Chapter 150: Denise Carver Curled Her Lip in Disdain

"The education bureau has been cracking down hard on after-school tutoring. Daniel has always been law-abiding and never touches such things," Helen said calmly.

Denise Carver curled her lip in disdain.

What a fool to pass up easy money!

"If your husband won't earn extra income, there's still you," she said, eyes gleaming. "I hear writers can make millions from book royalties these days. After all these years of writing, you must have saved quite a fortune?"

Helen's smile froze.

If writing could truly make her rich, she wouldn't have needed her daughter to buy them a villa.

Clara Whitmore noticed her mother's discomfort and intervened: "Uncle Howard, Aunt Denise, we actually have somewhere to be—"

"What could possibly be so urgent during the holidays?" Denise cut her off. "Clara, you're already in your twenties—no degree, no job, no boyfriend. What kind of grown woman still leeches off her parents?"

She hadn't forgotten the cherries incident.

"Your eldest cousin started a company in Bellwether—boundless prospects. My Tessa may not be as accomplished, but she landed a stable government job at the power bureau."

Denise grew more animated: "Sometimes I worry for Daniel. Raising a daughter who can't even support herself..."

Howard Carver frantically signaled her to stop, but she ignored him.

Helen's smile turned icy: "Indeed, Tessa is exceptional—getting into the power bureau right after community college."

Denise lifted her chin proudly: "Of course! Tessa's always been responsible. Her grandfather promised to introduce her to a government official soon—she'll be an official's wife..."

Suddenly raising her voice: "I lack nothing in life except wishing for our family's health and safety!"

"Enough!" Howard finally snapped. "Helen, don't mind her—she speaks without thinking."

Denise exploded: "Howard Carver! What exactly did I say wrong? The facts speak for themselves! Why are you apologizing?!"

Howard flushed crimson but stayed silent.

His entire career relied on his in-laws' connections—a cushy job at a power bureau subsidiary paying over ten thousand monthly. As the only daughter of the Wells family, he dared not cross Denise.

"Cat got your tongue? You were so eloquent earlier," Denise pressed. "Back then I was the belle of the bureau—how did I end up married to someone like..."

Emma Fairfax suddenly rushed from the reception area: "Miss Whitmore! Thank goodness you're still here!"

Breathlessly handing over documents: "We gave you the wrong contract earlier. Here's the original Purchase Agreement—please verify the details..."