Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 184: Does Mr. Hart Still Know the Shame of Losing Face?

Chapter 184: Chapter 184: Does Mr. Hart Still Know the Shame of Losing Face?

She glanced at him only once, her eyes darting away as if shocked by electricity, and she said irritably, "Can’t you be more mindful in front of your daughter?!"

"She’s just a kid; what does she know? Haven’t I always been there whenever I took her swimming?"

The man casually dropped this remark and turned away, drying his hair.

With every movement of his arms, the muscles across his shoulder blades undulated, each inch exuding a burgeoning male power.

And this guy was tall and leggy, broad-shouldered yet slim-hipped.

From an aesthetic point of view, he was indeed flawless and enticing.

Ugh!

Realizing she was once again dazzled by him, Amelia quickly regained her senses.

Yet, regarding his words, she couldn’t find a counterargument.

A single father raising a daughter inevitably faced many inconveniences.

And as the child grew older, these difficulties would only increase.

With this in mind, she really couldn’t leave anymore.

Otherwise, if Hope stayed with him, how would he explain to her the things a girl her age should know?

Thinking this, Amelia decided it was time to start the education.

"Hope, you’re growing up and shouldn’t sleep with daddy anymore. Why don’t you sleep in another room with mommy, okay?"

"Why?"

"Boys and girls shouldn’t sleep together; it’s not proper."

"But, Oliver sleeps with his mom."

"Oliver?" She was taken aback.

The man interjected, "A kid from a relative’s family, a boy."

Oh...

Amelia understood and scrambled for an excuse, "Maybe Oliver is still little. When he grows up, he won’t sleep with his mom anymore."

"But Oliver’s dad is pretty old, and he still sleeps with his mom!"

"..."

She couldn’t exactly say that it’s also wrong for parents to sleep together.

Before she could think of what to say to her daughter, President Hart, now in his pajamas, sauntered back in, holding a woman’s nightgown.

He threw the nightgown at her face and said indifferently, "Get washed and go to bed. Aren’t you tired after a whole day of fuss?"

Amelia pulled the nightgown off her head, glaring at him in frustration, "What are you implying?"

"Nothing much. Your clothes are all hanging in the closet, pick any you like."

"..." She was speechless again.

She had been brought back straight from the airport, carrying nothing but her purse.

She had no choice but to search for her old clothes.

She looked at the nightgown in her hand. The silk material was too clingy, and the dress felt... unsafe.

Muttering to herself, she headed to the closet, looking for something "warmer" to wear.

Fortunately, there was.

The man sat by the bedside, reading a picture book story to their daughter.

He glanced at Amelia as she came out of the closet with a different nightgown. His lips curved slightly, then returned his gaze to the book.

Amelia entered the bathroom and locked the door.

Thinking of her son’s words and the night a few months earlier, when she had stayed over due to her daughter being sick and he had pinned her in the bathroom—she turned back to move a cabinet against the door.

After her shower, she got dressed and walked out to find the room now quiet, the lights dimmed to their lowest.

The atmosphere suddenly became awkward and charged.

She stood far from the bed, noticed her daughter was already asleep, and hesitatingly pointed towards the door, "I... I’ll go sleep in the guest room. If Hope wakes up and needs her mom, I’ll come back."

Christopher looked up, "Is that necessary? It’s not like we haven’t slept together before."

Directly, she retorted, "What, you don’t stand by your own words now?"

"..." He was momentarily speechless, then defended, "What are you afraid of with our daughter here?"

Amelia scoffed, "You, a man with no credibility and no sense of shame, are no reassurance, regardless of who is present."

"What do you want to do in front of the kids without any shame!?"

Amelia retorted without caring whether the man was pleased or not and turned away from the master bedroom.

Yet, the events of the day had been a huge shock to anyone.

Who could sleep on such a night?

She tossed and turned, pondering what to do next. Despite feeling very tired, her mind was eerily alert.

At first, she could close her eyes and recuperate.

But after a while, unable to sleep, she simply opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, taking a long breath.

Suddenly, there was a sound from the door lock.

Startled, she instinctively looked towards the door.

Before he left, her son had instructed her to lock the door from the inside at night and to block it with a dresser.

Heh...

She indeed knew his father very well.

In the dead of night, who else but the owner of this villa would sneak into her room?

Fortunately, she had indeed blocked the door as her son had instructed.

However, the tiny nightstand was clearly no match for the master’s determination to enter.

Resolved, Amelia stood up, stuffed a pillow under the blankets to mimic a sleeping person, and then she quietly walked to the door, pressing her back against the wall as she waited.

Outside the room, the man unlocked the door and tried to push it open, only to find it blocked and muttered a curse under his breath.

This damn woman, does she really think of him as a thug?

If she wanted to prevent entry, would a broken dresser stop him?

It was simply an insult.

The door cracked open, and he reached in to gently push the nightstand away.

Sideways, he slipped in quietly.

His eyes, already accustomed to the dim light, could vaguely see everything inside.

He walked to the bed, his tall and upright figure ghost-like as he lingered by the bed for a moment, then quietly climbed on.

Slowly, very slowly, he moved towards the "woman."

Finally, he wrapped his arms around the "woman" through the blankets.

Having done all this, Mr. Hart breathed out slowly, very restrained, careful not to put too much force onto his arms.

He was afraid that waking her would ruin everything.

However, when he calmed down and felt carefully, something felt off.

He reached out to touch, and finding no one on the pillow, he suddenly looked up—indeed, no head!

The blankets were suddenly thrown back, and the "person" sleeping inside was actually a pillow!

Where was she?!

The first thought that flashed through his mind—did she sneak out?!

"President Hart staying up in the middle of the night, are you sleepwalking?"

Amelia stood behind the door, watching everything clearly.

Seeing that he had noticed the trick, she spoke leisurely.

Needless to say, the sudden voice made the man lying on the bed jump in fright, almost bouncing up.

He immediately turned his head and saw the silhouette behind the door. His face flushed red and his mind went blank.

Damn it! She had seen all his foolish actions!

This woman, simply...

Annoyed and embarrassed, Mr. Hart blurted out, "You staying up late not sleeping, trying to scare people like a ghost?!"

Amelia couldn’t help but laugh, speechless, "So it seems slandering and blaming others first is Mr. Hart’s true colors."

Mr. Hart said nothing, his face burning with embarrassment, regretting he couldn’t restrain himself.

Amelia reached out and clicked on the room light, immediately illuminating everything.

"Why turn on the light!" Christopher, shielding his eyes with one hand, looked extremely uncomfortable and made a squinting gesture.

Approaching him a few steps, the woman sarcastically said, "Oh, now you know shame? Embarrassed? Does Mr. Hart look like he lacks women? Sneaking up in the middle of the night onto your ex-wife’s bed, what were you trying to do?"