My daughter is so ungrateful! I handed over the business to her, and she’s completely forgotten who helped her get to where she is!
I could easily title my story like the famous Aleko Konstantinov’s, “God Save the One Who Sees Too Late.”
Looking back, it’s clear I’m not alone in this experience. History is full of examples where children take everything they’re given for granted and fail to appreciate those who helped them rise.
I don’t wish my daughter ill. Let her find her own path.
But I’m no longer willing to provide her with work and profit now that she’s decided there’s no place for me in the business I built.
I handed her a thriving business
I spent my whole life working, building, expanding. I started small, achieving success step by step.
Now I own a chain of hotels and several restaurants. This was the result of many years of hard work, sleepless nights, mistakes, setbacks, and triumphs.
As my daughter grew up, I decided to bring her into the business. She was smart and ambitious. I hoped she’d continue my legacy, preserving and increasing what I had built.
I trusted her with one of the restaurants and even gifted her 30% of the company.
I introduced her to the business world.
I passed on customers, connections, and knowledge.
Yet, the more she received, the less valuable it became to her.
She decided she no longer needed me
Over time, her attitude towards me shifted. She started to see herself as the owner not only of the restaurant but of the entire company.
She began meddling in hotel management and made decisions without consulting me.
It reached a point where I’d walk into the restaurant in the morning for a cup of coffee and a bit of breakfast, and she’d shout:
— You’re eating on my dime!
I was stunned.
— On your dime? Didn’t I give you this restaurant? Isn’t this part of the business I’ve spent years building?
She’d just dismiss it.
— It’s my restaurant now. I’m not obliged to feed you.
It felt like I was speaking to a stranger, not my daughter.
She teamed up with travel agents against me
But that wasn’t the end of it.
She aligned herself with travel operators, making deals behind my back.
She was the only one with access to the bank details, and she was the one receiving payments.
As for me…
She’d dole out small amounts and toss them my way with a snide remark:
— That should be enough for you.
Enough?
For the one who created this business?
Who spent years, energy, and nerves on it?
I ejected her from the company
By the end of the season, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I called a meeting.
I stripped her of her 30% stake in the company.
I regained control.
I ousted her from the business I had once given her.
She didn’t believe I would do it.
She thought I’d just tolerate it.
She was wrong.
She sued me… twice!
After that, a real battle began.
She filed two lawsuits.
In the first, she demanded half of the business.
In the second, the return of the 30% I had once gifted her.
She lost both cases.
Yet instead of learning from it, she sought revenge.
My daughter reported me to the tax authorities!
She reported her own father, leading to a tax audit for the last five years.
For a year I was hounded.
For a year I trudged through bureaucracies, proving my integrity.
For a year I watched my own daughter try to destroy the enterprise meant to be her inheritance.
I recalled holding her tiny hand, teaching her to walk, wanting nothing but the best for her.
But now…
Now she’s ready to ruin me, just to take more.
Gratefulness? Care? Family? Don’t make me laugh
How quickly people forget where they came from.
How swiftly they forget who gave them their chances.
How easily they betray those closest to them.
My daughter forgot who she once was.
She believes she’s achieved it all on her own.
Well…
Now she will truly follow her own path.
Without my support.
Without the business.
Without her inheritance.
I don’t curse her.
But I no longer intend to help her.
Let her learn what it means to build a life from scratch.
Understand what it means to have nothing and earn everything on her own.
And I can only repeat:
God save those who finally see the light…
