Chapter 381

“You were scared of risk, scared I’d fall, and scared I’d lose money; you never let me try. You wanted me safe, stuck in Flareigh, living your steady life as a doctor. I did everything you asked, isn’t that enough?”

At that moment, Werner realized that Donald had been holding a grudge against him and Cathy all along. Back when Jonathan struck gold with his business, Donald burned with envy, itching to copy his every move. But his parents talked him into the “safe” path—med school, grinding through residency, and sticking to doctoring. That was enough, they said.

Donald’s parents weren’t loaded, but they’d built up a nest egg over the years—mid-seven figures. Their kids never went without. They’d pushed Donald toward med school because, in Harrigh, doctors pulled in good money and had real clout; it was stable and respected.

Werner’s face hardened. “Now you resent us? Jonathan got into Querencia University at sixteen. He’s capable, but you? You barely scraped into med school. Business? You had no plan. How many Jonathans exist here? Just him.”

Donald didn’t say a word. He just pressed his lips together and clenched his fists even tighter at his sides.

Every family dinner, every party, even his engagement party—Jonathan was the one paying. A single bottle of wine he brought over would cost Donald half a lifetime of hard work. He felt so bitter about that.

Cathy walked over to Donald and chimed in, “Dear, we aren’t blaming you. We just wish you’d talk to us first. Buying Jennifer a house behind our backs? Of course, we had to ask you about it.”

“Mom, she’s my future wife and my love. I’m willing to give her everything,” Donald said, then turned and walked out.

“Give her everything? Great, all his savings are gone,” Werner grumbled, slapping his thigh.

Cathy smacked Werner’s arm. “Would you stop? This is all your fault. You forced him into medicine. If we’d let him take a chance, maybe he’d be doing even better than Jonathan.”

“He’s not cut out for business. I know my own son. He’d be lucky to even make department head, let alone start a company.”

“He’s your son. Can’t you just take his side for once?”

Werner pressed his lips together and didn’t say another word.

Teresa was having lunch at the office when she suddenly got a call from Cathy. Cathy was pretty sharp—rather than calling Jennifer directly to ask why her son had to buy her a house before marriage, she decided to sound Teresa out first, since they were sisters after all.

But Teresa was caught off guard. She had no idea Donald paid for Jennifer’s house—she was completely in the dark.

Teresa replied, “Sorry, Cathy. I wasn’t in Nareigh before. My sister only told me about the house after I came back.”

Cathy replied, “Teresa, we’re all family. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. I’m just asking. Werner and I only just found out.”

Teresa paused for a few seconds. “How much did Donald spend on my sister’s house?”

“Roughly 100 thousand, maybe? You know Newure Garden’s prices? It’s a new complex. When it first opened, prices were over 10,000 per square meter, and they haven’t dropped much since.”

“Got it. Let me call you back—something just came up.”

Teresa had been swamped at work, but she cleared her afternoon schedule and headed straight to Jennifer’s hospital office. When Jennifer came back, Teresa turned to face her.

Jennifer managed a strained smile. “Wow, you came to see me? Have you eaten yet? I just finished a surgery—I’m dead on my feet.”

“Tired? From what? Leeching off everyone else?” Teresa shot back, her eyes sharp and cold.

Jennifer frowned, but Teresa stepped right up, grabbed the collar of Jennifer’s white coat, and yanked her forward. “You really have no shame left, Hannah.”

“What are you even talking about now?” asked Jennifer.

“Your job? My ex pulled strings for that. Your car? My money. The apartment? Donald’s savings. What’s yours?” Teresa shoved her backward.

Jennifer stumbled back, nearly losing her balance before she caught herself on the desk. Teresa had never hit her before.

“And the guys you don’t want? You lose them to me. Marry your friend? Am I your trash can?”

Jennifer straightened up, about to say something in her own defense, but Teresa cut her off with a vicious scold. “You make me sick.”