Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 149 Domineering Protection of Ex-Wife

Chapter 149: Chapter 149 Domineering Protection of Ex-Wife

"You—" Michael Garcia was rendered speechless, and after a pause, he asked angrily, "You don’t want to acknowledge this family anymore?"

"Mr. Garcia, do you have a problem with your ears?"

Michael Garcia let out a resentful laugh, "Amelia, you can pretend with others, but let’s have an open and frank talk between us."

Amelia Garcia didn’t make a sound, curious to know what he was up to.

"I won’t question why you faked your death back then, and I can pretend not to know your real identity. You can continue being your glamorous jewelry designer."

Before he could finish speaking, the doorbell at home rang.

Amelia Garcia frowned, wondering who it could be now, as everyone seemed to be showing up at once.

While on the phone, she went to look through the peephole...

Damn!

Christopher Hart?

When did he figure out where she lived? How could he just show up without giving her a heads-up?

The doorbell rang again, followed by knocking sounds, clearly not planning to give up.

Amelia Garcia took a deep breath and still opened the door.

There stood Christopher Hart in front of her, holding an eco-friendly paper bag, "I’ve brought clothes for Hope, yesterday—"

He stopped speaking when he saw the woman with her phone, making a call, so he kept quiet.

Seeing that he was there to deliver clothes, Amelia Garcia didn’t have much to say and turned to go back inside.

The man followed her in.

On the phone, Michael Garcia continued to speak incessantly.

"You must have heard about Fiona Marshall and her daughter’s case. Christopher Hart is fixated on it, and the police and the courts will surely deal with it severely. We are, after all, one family, and any misunderstandings from the past should be dissipated like smoke and clouds."

"You and Christopher Hart do have a child together and were once husband and wife; your relationship is close, and he’s easy for you to talk to. Try to persuade him not to be too harsh in his actions, who knows, maybe someday..."

Michael Garcia was cut off as Amelia Garcia walked into the dining room, put down her phone, and turned on the speakerphone.

It was clear she did it on purpose—to let Christopher Hart listen in.

So Michael Garcia’s voice echoed clearly in the living room, "Try to persuade him not to be too harsh, who knows, maybe one day the tables will turn, and he will be the one pleading with others. Who can guarantee they’ll be on top forever?"

"You see the logic, right? Even if Lily didn’t donate a kidney, she at least found a successful matching donor. Otherwise, where would his sister go for a transplant? She might as well have been in the grave by now."

"Fiona Marshall and her daughter might not have merits, but they’ve suffered. He can’t be so merciless, not leaving them any way out."

Christopher Hart walked in and heard everything loud and clear.

If it weren’t for Hope running up to him with joy making him hug his daughter, his expression right now would surely be as dark as King Rhys himself.

The way Fiona Marshall and her daughter played him, deceived the Hart Family, making fools out of so many of his relatives, and now they have the audacity to talk about "suffering" and ask for leniency?

Truly shameless!

Amelia Garcia saw this father and daughter laughing and playing, and Christopher Hart seemed not to be angry at all, which surprised her a bit.

But then again, she thought, he might be smiling at his daughter on the surface while seething with anger inside.

She knew this man—hating being deceived the most, let alone by such outrageous fraud!

To be played by a woman for over four years, he could hold a grudge for a lifetime!

After listening to Michael Garcia’s lengthy speech, Amelia Garcia asked with a laugh, "Aren’t you all getting divorced? Why do you care about Fiona Marshall’s life or death? She made a cuckold out of you, and it’s public knowledge."

It might have been better not to mention this, but once she did, Michael Garcia was about to explode with anger!

"This is my business, so keep your nose out of it!"

"Fine, since you don’t want me meddling in your affairs, why are you bothering me? Hang up already. If you’ve got the guts, go talk to Christopher Hart directly."

Afraid that she would actually hang up, Michael Garcia quickly changed his tone, "Amelia, Amelia... wait! I... I know that I’ve wronged you in the past and you feel no affection for this family, but I am, after all, your biological father. You can’t erase that blood relation!"

Amelia Garcia couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Playing the family card at a time like this, how shameless.

"Sigh... I’ll just be straight with you, it’s because your brother has come back to the country and he’s causing a fuss wanting his mother! If Fiona Marshall goes to jail, this... this is also a stain on your brother’s life. He’s just starting out; what will he do in society if people find out he has a mother who’s been in jail?"

Finally willing to tell the truth.

It’s all for his precious son.

"Hah... You really are a good father, aren’t you? To prevent your dear son from being looked down upon, you actually have the gall to come begging to the daughter you despise the most, even tolerating your wife’s affair and the shame that brought you." Amelia picked up her phone, her tone slightly agitated.

Both his children, and yet the treatment couldn’t be more worlds apart!

Michael Garcia, hearing her sarcasm, became even more anxious and shameless, "But he’s still your biological brother! Don’t you want to see him do well?"

"I am without father, without mother, without siblings; I’ve long been an orphan." She said this with a faint smile, her heart already numb.

However, upon hearing this, Christopher Hart, who was holding his daughter, gave her a deep look.

Then, the man put down his daughter, coaxing the little girl to continue her breakfast, and walked over to the balcony to take the phone from Amelia’s hand.

Amelia Garcia was taken aback and looked at him, but didn’t follow.

"President Garcia, this is Christopher Hart." The man spoke indifferently, his demeanor exuding superiority, "If there’s something you need, talk to me directly and don’t trouble unrelated people."

Amelia Garcia: "..."

Unrelated people.

Although that was the truth, somehow it still felt...

Michael Garcia was shocked, "Ch... Christopher Hart? You’re really together! Is that why you went through such lengths to push Lily aside, to reconcile with Amelia? But... but I’m still your father-in-law! Shouldn’t you show some respect for your elder?"

"Sorry, Mr. Garcia, I don’t understand what you’re talking about."

"But let me clarify one thing, the crimes committed by Fiona Marshall and her daughter have violated the law, and their impact on society has been extremely negative. It is the law and morality that demand their punishment, not my personal vendetta."

"If you have any feelings for your spouse and are concerned about your son’s future, then you’d better advise them to cooperate with the police investigation, to acknowledge their wrongdoing actively, and to hope for leniency from the judge—don’t you agree?"

Amelia Garcia sat down at the dining table, quietly eating her breakfast.

Despite her disdain for Christopher Hart’s character, she mentally gave him a big thumbs-up.

So, this is fighting fire with fire? Evil for evil?

How could Michael Garcia outtalk Christopher Hart? Choked by his response, he shivered and stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"President Garcia, I don’t like to throw my weight around, but if you keep troubling her, or if I hear anything I shouldn’t, I guess—what you’ll have to worry about then is not your son’s future, but the very survival of the Garcia Family."

The little devil inside Amelia couldn’t help but burst into ecstatic applause.

The phone was suddenly tossed back onto the table, startling her. She looked up, "Have you... had breakfast yet? Want something to eat?"

The man pulled out a chair and sat down, stroking his daughter’s head while glancing sideways, "Shouldn’t you be getting a bowl?"

"..." Amelia rolled her eyes, annoyed at herself for asking such a question.

She stood up to get a bowl, came back and served him some millet porridge, and threw over a custard bun, "It’s not on the same level as the buffet at Mr. Hart’s place, but make do."

Christopher Hart looked at her, "I just helped you snap back at your beast of a father, and you’re still being sarcastic with me?"