My Family Mocked Me For Taking The Bus To Thanksgiving. They Didn’t Know I Own The House They Live In. Am I The Jerk For Taking The Turkey And Leaving In My Private Helicopter?

Each one worth $13 million. “Oh my god,” Aunt Patricia whispered.

“No,” Emma breathed.

“No, no, no.” The helicopters began their descent, rotors whipping the trees into a frenzy.

The noise was deafening. My family stood frozen, mouths open, as $39 million worth of aircraft prepared to land in their backyard—the backyard I owned.

The first helicopter touched down perfectly right where I’d specified. The second and third followed, forming a precise triangle pattern on the grass.

The rotors began to slow, the noise dropping to a manageable level. The doors opened.

Captain Rodriguez emerged first, his uniform crisp and professional. He was followed by five other crew members: pilots, co-pilots, flight engineers, all wearing Trans Global Aviation uniforms.

They were all moving with military precision. Rodriguez approached me directly, saluting.

“Ma’am, fleet delivered as requested. All systems operational. We’re ready when you are.” I returned the salute casually.

“Thank you, Captain. Excellent approach. No issues?” “None, ma’am. Weather cooperated beautifully, though I admit this is the first time we’ve landed at a private residence for a Thanksgiving pickup.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” He smiled.

“Indeed. Should we wait on board, or would you prefer we maintain standby here?” “Standby is fine. I’ll need about 20 minutes.”

“Understood.” He saluted again, then gestured to his crew.

They spread out, conducting post-landing checks with professional efficiency. I turned to my family.

Nobody was moving; nobody was speaking. They were statues, frozen in shock.

“So,” I said pleasantly.

“Who wants a tour?”

Shattering the Delusion

Emma made a sound like a dying animal. “This isn’t—”

Dad couldn’t finish the sentence. “You don’t own a $2.8 billion aviation company,” I finished for him.

“I do. Founded it 8 years ago. We operate in 14 countries. 327 aircraft total. 244 helicopters, 83 private jets. We employ over 2,000 people worldwide.” Marcus’s phone slipped from his hand.

“These three helicopters,” I gestured at the aircraft.

“Part of our executive fleet. We have 71 more just like them, plus 42 Gulfstream jets, 23 Bombardier Globals, and 18 Boeing business jets for our ultra-high-net-worth clients.” “But…”

Mom’s voice was tiny. “But you take the bus.”

“I take the bus because I choose to. Carbon footprint. Also, it’s good to stay grounded—no pun intended.” Captain Rodriguez approached again.

“Ma’am, operations is on the line. They need guidance on the Singapore contract.” I nodded.

“Tell them to proceed with the terms we discussed. 95 million over 3 years with the option to extend.” “Understood.”

He stepped away, speaking into his radio. “Ninety-five million?” Aunt Patricia repeated faintly.

“The Singapore government wants exclusive access to 15 helicopters for their emergency medical services,” I explained.

“It’s good business. We already have similar contracts with Japan, Australia, and the UAE.” Jennifer was still filming, but her hands were shaking so badly the footage would be unwatchable.

“You really…” Emma couldn’t seem to form complete thoughts.

“You actually own this company?” “Yes. Founded it with my own capital from a small inheritance from Grandma Chin. She left me $200,000 when I was 23.”

“Everyone told me to buy a house. I leased a helicopter instead.” “That’s insane,” Uncle Frank whispered.

“It was a calculated risk. I saw the market gap. I had the knowledge.” “Remember all those hours at the airport you mocked me for? I was learning, studying, planning.”

“By year two, I had three helicopters and my first government contract. By year five, I’d expanded internationally. Last quarter, we grossed $840 million in revenue.” The silence was broken only by helicopter rotors winding down and the sound of Marcus throwing up in the bushes.

“Why?” Mom’s question came out as a sob.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I met her eyes.

“Because every time I tried, you dismissed me. ‘Still building that business?’ ‘When are you getting a real job?’ ‘Stop living in fantasy land.'” “So I stopped trying. I built my empire in silence while you counted Emma’s cars.”

“That’s not fair,” Emma said weakly.

“We didn’t know.” “You didn’t want to know. There’s a difference.”

I turned to Captain Rodriguez. “I’ll need manifest updates for all three aircraft. Thanksgiving dinner to go, I think.”

“Ma’am?” “The turkey’s ready. I’m taking it with me. Probably the sweet potato casserole, too. My crew deserves a proper Thanksgiving meal.”

“You’re leaving?” Dad found his voice.

“You just got here.” “I’ve been here for 2 hours. 2 hours of being mocked for not owning a car while literally owning 327 aircraft. I think I’m done.”

“Wait,” Jennifer lowered her phone.

“You said… you said you own this property.” I smiled.

“Bought it three years ago when the bank was about to foreclose. I’ve been leasing it back to Mom and Dad at below-market rates. You’re welcome, by the way.” Dad’s face went from pale to crimson.

“You’ve been—we’ve been paying rent to you?” “Technically to Trans Global Properties, my real estate subsidiary. But yes, I own your house.”

“Also own three resorts in Hawaii, a hotel chain in Thailand, and an apartment complex in Manhattan. Diversification is important.” Mom sat down hard on the patio chair.

“This is too much. This is all too much.” “It is a lot,” I agreed.

“Which is why I don’t usually bring it up at family dinners. But you insisted on proof. So, proof.” I gestured at the helicopters.

“Satisfied?” Emma was crying now, mascara running down her cheeks.

“I don’t understand. How is this possible? You’re younger than me! You’ve always been the failure, the disappointment!” “I was never the failure. You just decided I was because I didn’t perform success the way you expected.”

*”Three cars, Emma. You own three cars and live in a studio condo. I own a transportation empire and choose to take the bus. We’re not the same.”

A Lesson in Success

Captain Rodriguez returned. “Ma’am, Singapore confirmed. Also, we have three requests for emergency medical transport: one in Colorado, one in British Columbia, one in Scotland. Should I reroute available units?”

“Colorado and BC, yes. Scotland can wait two hours. Check with Edinburgh base first; they might have availability already.” “On it.”

He paused. “Also, your board wants to schedule a call for tomorrow. The Amazon acquisition.”

“Tomorrow’s Friday. Tell them Monday. I’m taking the weekend off.” “Understood.”

He walked away. I turned back to my family.

“Amazon acquisition?” Uncle Frank asked weakly.

“Their aviation division. We’re in talks to purchase their cargo air fleet. 42 aircraft, solid infrastructure, good synergy with our existing operations. Should close by March if the numbers work out.” Marcus had returned from the bushes, wiping his mouth.

“I’m going to wake up, right? This is a nightmare.” “It’s Thanksgiving,” I said cheerfully.