Sensing where this was headed, he stammered, “Dad, that’s… that’s different! I’m your son! Those properties will all be mine eventually—”
“Eventually?” Grandpa cut him off coldly. “There is no ‘eventually.’ The future isn’t fixed. You say a young man relying on his parents is shameful and should be independent? Very well then. I will treat you that way. Starting today, I’ll inform the tenants to transfer all rent directly to your mother’s account.”
“And I’m taking it back the manor you’re living in!”
“You three can pack your things and move out. From now on, live on your own ways!”
Those words struck like thunder on a clear day. My father froze, his face drained of color.
The pretense of his so-called ‘parenting method’ shattered instantly. Panic and disbelief spread across his face.
“Dad! You can’t do this!” he shouted.
“I’m your only son! How could you take everything back? How are we supposed to live now? Even the company’s cash flow depends on the rent!”
He stumbled forward, voice full of desperation and confusion, completely different from the confident man who had been preaching about independence just minutes ago.