He sounded like he was giving a lecture, so sure of himself.
Grandma shot him a sharp look. “Adversity education, my foot! I bet it was that snake woman, Linda, who told you to do this. She can’t stand Leo and you just went along with her to mistreat my grandson!”
Father’s face changed instantly. “Mom! What are you talking about? This has nothing to do with Linda—it was my decision! For the record, Leroy’s my son too. I’ll treat them both the same way!”
He said it firmly, as if he truly believed it.
But he seemed to forget how furious he’d been just yesterday when I mentioned Leroy.
“Same way? Oh, what a fair father you are!” Grandpa let out a cold laugh, dripping with sarcasm and disappointment.
“I see you’ve grown smart Wayne. You’ve learned new stuff—using ‘independence’ nonsense to justify treating your own son unfairly!”
Grandpa stood, his sharp eyes locked on my father.
“Since you think grown children shouldn’t depend on their parents and should stand on their own—fine. But first, let me ask you: how old are you now?”
“Fifty-three… But what does that have to do with this?” Father froze, not understanding where this was going.
“Fifty-three, huh? That’s three decades away from twenty-two!” Grandpa’s voice suddenly boomed. “You keep saying Leo shouldn’t live off of you—but what about you?
“That manor you live in, the three commercial buildings you collect rent from every month, the startup capital for your company—did you earn any of those yourself? Weren’t they all built from my hard work back in the day?”
Father’s face turned pale in an instant.
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.