My Brother Secretly Filmed Me,So I Sent Him and His Boss to Prison

"Are you trying to send your mother and me to an early grave?" I reached for the tangle of wires. "Dad, this thing is connected to the internet! He can watch the feed directly on his phone! This isn't theft prevention—it's surveillance!" Mom's spit sprayed across my face as she shrieked back. "Surveillance? What's there to surveil? What exactly are you hiding?" "He's your brother! Your own brother! So what if he takes a look? Are you made of gold? Silver? What's so precious that your own family can't see?" I stared at her, incredulous. "Mom, this is about privacy! Whatever I wear at home, whatever I do—he sees all of it! This isn't just 'taking a look'—" Alfred swiped at his tears. "Fine! Forget it, sis. Since you don't trust me, I'm done with this renovation. I'll leave. Right now. I won't be an eyesore anymore." Mom grabbed him, tears streaming down her face. "Alfred! Don't you dare leave! Your sister doesn't know any better, but I'm on your side! If anyone tries to throw you out today, I'll die right here!" She whipped toward me. "Darlene, apologize to your brother! Now! This instant!" I clenched my jaw. "I did nothing wrong. I'm not apologizing." Dad raised his hand to strike. Aunt Diana rushed forward to block him. "Now, now, Piers—the girl's still upset. No hitting, no hitting..." She turned to me, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Darlene, sweetie, you're in the wrong here. Your brother turned down big jobs at the construction site just to save you tens of thousands in labor costs." "Do you have any idea how expensive workers are these days? That sledgehammer you swung? You didn't break a wall—you broke your brother's heart." I jabbed a finger at the wreckage scattered across the floor. "Save money? Smell this!" I gestured at the air. "We've barely cracked open the walls and the formaldehyde is already giving me a splitting headache!" "You call this saving money? Cheap adhesive and no-brand particle board—that's what he used!" "Where did the 'savings' actually go? Straight into some online gambling site, I bet!" Aunt Theresa Pruitt cut in from the sidelines. "Darlene, that's uncalled for. Sure, your brother played cards years ago, but that's ancient history. He quit ages ago!" "Bringing that up now is just rubbing salt in his wounds." "Besides, now that you're a government employee, your standards are too high for your poor relatives, is that it? The materials aren't good enough for you? Then pay for better ones yourself!" "With the pittance you gave him, what did you expect? Rosewood?" I exploded. "I gave him two hundred thousand dollars!" "This apartment is only eight hundred square feet! Two hundred thousand, and this is what it looks like? Not a single decent tile—just bare white walls and bargain-bin paint!" "Where's the money, Alfred? I dare you to show me the receipts!" Alfred's eyes darted away. His hand flew to his pocket, guarding it. Mom jumped in immediately. "So what if it was two hundred thousand? Your brother doesn't need money for labor? For food and water?" "And he didn't even keep it all! He covered a lot of the costs out of his own pocket!" "He said he was worried you'd run short, so he put in over twenty thousand of his own money. He hasn't even had the nerve to ask you to pay him back, and here you are—biting the hand that feeds you!" Alfred fumbled in his pocket and produced a crumpled slip of paper, holding it out to Dad with trembling hands. "Dad... this is the IOU from when I borrowed money from a friend to buy materials... I didn't want to show it because I didn't want to pressure Darlene..." "But I swear I never took a cent from her..." Dad snatched the paper, glanced at it, and flung it in my face. "Look! Open your damn eyes and look! Your brother had to borrow from loan sharks just to finish your lousy apartment! Your conscience has been eaten by dogs!" The slip fluttered to the ground. Twenty thousand borrowed. Interest rate through the roof. Borrower: Alfred Pruitt. Reason: "Urgent renovation expenses."

I drew a deep breath. "Fine. Fine. You'd rather believe some IOU that could be forged for all you know than the evidence right in front of your faces." "Since you all think he's a living saint, I'm done. Take the house—give it to him. Let him breathe in the formaldehyde until it poisons him. Let him enjoy his little spy setup." I turned to leave. "Don't you dare walk away!" A hand seized my hair from behind. Before I could see who it was, a palm cracked across my face. Dad stood there, chest heaving, finger jabbing at me. "You think you can just leave? You'll explain yourself first!" "You've dragged your brother's name through the mud, and now you want to walk away like nothing happened? Not a chance." Several relatives crowded in, making a show of breaking things up while their mouths dripped poison: "Old Mr. Pruitt, there's no need to hit the girl! Though really, Darlene, that temper of yours... someone ought to teach you some manners." Mom stood to the side, her face carved from ice. "Darlene. You will kneel before your brother and kowtow three times. If you don't, I no longer have a daughter." "The Pruitt family has no room for ungrateful backstabbers." I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth. The hurt went deeper than my split lip. "Dad. Mom." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Do you really think I'm the one being unreasonable here?" "My whole life—every mess Alfred made, who cleaned it up? Me." "When he stole money to blow on video games, you told everyone we'd been robbed. When he beat up the neighbor's kid, you sent me to apologize and pay them off." "He didn't even finish vocational school before he ran off to 'make his own way'—and racked up a mountain of debt. I'm the one who scraped together every penny to pay it back while I was living on instant noodles—" Alfred cut me off, his voice sharp with panic. "Enough! Why drag up ancient history? Everyone does stupid things when they're young!" "I've changed, haven't I? I work hard now. I've done nothing but try to be good to you. Why won't you let it go?" He turned to the relatives, his face a mask of wounded betrayal. "Uncles, aunties—you be the judge. My sister passed the civil service exam. She's a government official now. She's too good for a factory worker brother like me." "She thinks I'm dirty. Embarrassing. That's why she's manufacturing reasons to cut me off—to cut all of us poor relations out of her life!" "This camera—" He jabbed a finger at the evidence. "She planted it herself to frame me!" Aunt Diana gasped dramatically. "I knew it! Alfred wouldn't know the first thing about technology like this. She set him up!" Aunt Theresa clicked her tongue, lip curled in disgust. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. The scheming on this one. She'd stoop to anything to disown her own family. Mark my words—karma will find her." Mom's finger shot toward my face. "So that's it... that's what this is! I wondered why you came in swinging that hammer—you planned this from the start!" "You want to destroy me and your father? Destroy your brother? How can your heart be so rotten?" I pulled out my phone. "Framed him?" I looked straight at Alfred. "Did you forget that bank transfers and chat logs can be recovered?" "You claim this two hundred thousand went to construction materials? Then explain why every single supplier I contacted says they've never seen your face." "You claim you borrowed from loan sharks to fund the renovation? Then what's this 'Venetian Palace' app doing on your phone—and why does it show gambling deposits?" "Last night at two a.m., you dropped another five thousand into it. Didn't you?" The color drained from his face. His eyes darted to Dad. "You—you're making things up! What Venetian Palace? I don't know what you're talking about!" "Dad, she's trying to trap me! She just wants to destroy my reputation!" Dad stepped in front of Alfred, shielding him from me. "I'd like to see anyone try to touch my son." His hand shot out. "Darlene. Give me that phone. Now."

"Have you lost your mind? Going through your brother's phone? Delete all that garbage right now!" In the scuffle, the phone clattered to the floor. Dad brought his heel down on the screen, shattering it. "Where's your evidence now? Huh? Go on, show me!" "Let me make one thing clear, Darlene—you're not leaving this house until you make this right and get your brother to calm down!" "Your brother did all the renovations here. If you don't want to live in this place, then let him have it! Your office has dormitories—go crawl back there!" Mom was quick to pile on: "That's right! Give the apartment to Alfred! He's not even married yet—this would make a perfect wedding gift." "Darlene, you're a girl. You'll marry out eventually. This place should have gone to your brother from the start!" I stared at the shattered phone on the floor. Then I laughed—a single, hollow sound. "Fine. He can have the apartment. Forget the renovation costs. I won't go to the police. Is that enough?" Alfred's eyes lit up. "Sis! Now you're talking! We're family—no need for hard feelings. I wasn't trying to take your place, just... you know, crash here for a while..." I lifted my head. "But I want a severance agreement. From this day forward, I have no connection to the Pruitt family. Births, deaths, sickness—none of it concerns me." Mom froze for a beat, then burst into wailing: "Heaven help us! We raised an ungrateful wretch! Abandoning her own parents over a piece of property!" Dad snorted. "Fine. Sign it. As far as I'm concerned, I never had a daughter. But the moment that ink dries, this apartment transfers to your brother immediately!" "And you'll write a statement admitting the camera was yours—that you framed him. I won't have you running your mouth out there and ruining his reputation!" "Done." The word left my mouth without hesitation. I walked to the accent wall and picked up the sledgehammer. Alfred flinched backward. "What are you doing?" I gestured toward the TV cabinet. "Writing that statement. But first, there's something I need to show you." "Since we're cutting ties anyway... it would be a shame not to share one last surprise." Aunt Diana craned her neck. "What is it?" I turned to Alfred. "When you installed that camera, did you forget that smart TVs can auto-detect devices on the local network?" "Your little pinhole camera needed WiFi for the live stream, didn't it?" Alfred lunged at me like a man possessed. "Don't touch that TV! DON'T—" I pulled a black USB flash drive from the hole I'd smashed open and plugged it into the port on the side of the television. Alfred screamed, clawing toward me. "Stop her! STOP HER!" Dad grabbed a scrap plank from the renovation debris and raised it over the screen. My voice cracked through the room like a whip: "Do it!" "Smash it, and your son spends the rest of his life behind bars!" "I've already backed this up and sent it to the Provincial Public Security Bureau's inspection unit! This is playing for one reason only—so you can finally see which one of us has no conscience!" Dad's arm froze mid-swing. A video flashed onto the screen. The background was this very living room. Alfred sat on an overturned paint bucket, cigarette dangling between his fingers. Across from him slouched two bleached-blond punks. Beer bottles and cash littered the table between them. One of them blew a smoke ring, his grin dripping with sleaze: "Gotta hand it to you, bro—you've got balls. Keeping it in the family, huh? Can't wait to see those VIP boys lose their minds." On screen, Alfred let out a slimy chuckle: "Damn right! My sister's got the body, the face—she's flawless!" "Besides, that uniform fantasy? Where else are those loaded guys gonna see the real deal?" "I've got it all mapped out. One camera at the bedroom headboard, aimed right at where she changes." "One behind the bathroom mirror—full view of her showering. Another above the living room couch... total coverage, no blind spots!" The blond guy gave a thumbs up. "You're a genius, Alfred! But... if your sister finds out, she'll probably kill herself laughing—or just kill you, Haha! " Alfred spat on the ground. "So what if she's my sister? Is she gonna pay off my five hundred grand in gambling debt?" "Last time I begged her for twenty grand to tide me over, she cried poor!" "Since she won't show me any loyalty, she can't blame me for returning the favor. Besides, I'm helping her 'debut.' If she goes viral, maybe she'll even thank me!" "Hahaha! You're the man, Alfred! Cheers to that!" Aunt Diana's jaw dropped. Aunt Theresa's expression froze. Mom and Dad stood rooted to the spot. I wonder if they'll keep those faces when they see who Alfred's dealing with in the next video.