Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 191: Tsk tsk, Poor President Hart

Chapter 191: Chapter 191: Tsk tsk, Poor President Hart

"Did she think that by resorting to such a Bitterness Strategy, she would change her mind?

Now, the reality lay before her, even if she did change her mind, this path was still riddled with gunfire and full of thorns.

And her current days were glamorous and peaceful, why would she bother seeking out such hardship?

As for love...

Ha, that’s a game only young boys and girls who’ve just experienced love are keen on.

In the world of adults, you take what is solid and sure.

For her, children, career, money, and self were everything that mattered.

Men and love were not even the icing on the cake.

With that slap, the living room fell silent.

The two children were still hiding behind Amelia, but both pairs of round eyes stared unblinkingly at their "old man."

Scumbag Father got hit.

Served him right!

Such a violent family!

Luckily, mom isn’t associated with them anymore.

They wouldn’t want to return to such a family.

The silence in the room was broken when Fuller bowed and returned.

After taking Emma Carter downstairs, getting her into the car, and locking the door, Fuller came back ready to "carry off" George.

However, seeing the situation in front, Fuller realized he should not act rashly and looked towards Christopher Hart, awaiting orders.

Christopher Hart hadn’t spoken yet, but a somewhat self-aware George got up on his own, his eyes glancing at the children and then withdrawing in disappointment and reluctance.

"I’ll leave on my own; no need for you to get involved."

He dropped these words authoritatively, not even glancing at his son, and turned to walk out.

Fuller followed, responsible for taking them home.

Christopher Hart turned his head and coldly instructed his subordinate, "Take the old man to the hospital for a check-up."

Fuller: "Yes, Mr. Hart."

The farce finally drew to a close, and with the "outsiders" gone, the atmosphere in the living room finally eased a bit.

Snow Fitch was the first to breathe a sigh of relief, slumping his shoulders and sliding onto the sofa to sit, stealing a glance at Christopher: "Your mom doesn’t fight fair, coming at me and grabbing my hair! She’s supposed to be a lady of a wealthy household, but she fights like she’s from the streets."

Christopher paid no heed, his gaze firmly fixed on the woman a few steps away.

After Snow Fitch had finished complaining and noticed the eerie silence around, she pursed her lips, got up, and began pulling the children to leave: "Come on, let’s go play in the study."

Noah looked back worriedly as he was dragged away, concerned his mother might be bullied again.

Snow Fitch said, "Don’t worry, the one who should be scared now is your crappy dad."

He hadn’t yet won back his lady’s heart and his parents had made a scene, who knows how worried he must be, fearing she might leave in a fit of anger.

At this moment, the person at a disadvantage was clearly President Hart.

Sister Jones had disappeared at some point, leaving just the two of them standing in the living room.

Amelia found it pointless and turned to walk towards the balcony.

The warm autumn sun shone on her, the slight warmth finally soothing her emotions, and the anger in her heart evaporated under the sunlight.

Footsteps approached from behind, she knew it was him, she turned around, and spoke first: "I have no intention of having Noah and Ethan acknowledge their ancestry and if you insist on forcing this, we have nothing to talk about."

She thought he would try to persuade her.

Thus, she took the initiative.

Christopher Hart slightly furrowed his brows.

In the sunlight, his chiseled and profound face was incredibly handsome, mesmerizing even.

Especially with his brows slightly drawn together and the deep look in his eyes, exuding an irresistible melancholic charm.

After Amelia finished speaking, she turned her head away, refusing to look at him.

Christopher Hart stopped beside her, lifting his hand slightly but not daring to reach out to her, fearing it would trigger her further aversion.

After a moment of contemplation, he finally said, "I’m sorry, I didn’t protect the children well enough."

"???" Amelia turned back in surprise.

What are you trying to sell here?

Have you learned to reflect on yourself first?

The moment their eyes met, Christopher could sense her astonishment and couldn’t help but chuckle.

"What, is hearing me say sorry that shocking to you?"

"..." The woman turned her head away.

Under the bright light, her delicate skin shimmered, even the soft fuzz on her face looked so adorable, it was irresistibly tempting.

And those slightly pursed lips, full and beautiful, moist and glossy like a bud of an apricot flower, beckoning to be plucked.

Christopher watched, and couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander.

He felt as if he had gone mad.

The self-control he prided himself on was no match for her.

In broad daylight, just looking at her face could make his blood boil.

"It’s very hot outside, can we go inside to talk?" He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, suddenly blurting out this request.

Amelia glanced at him, "I think it’s quite warm and comfortable."

"..."

Of course, Mr. Hart couldn’t admit it was his issue, so he unbuttoned his shirt collar, looking visibly restless and uneasy.

Amelia eyed him again, her expression clearly asking: Are you sick?

"This morning, they did call me, probably having heard some rumors. I told them not to interfere, to wait until I had handled things. I didn’t expect them to go directly to Snow Fitch, frightening the children."

"It’s their fault, so I am apologizing on their behalf, nothing shocking about that."

After hearing his explanation, Amelia seemed unsure whether to accept it. She turned slightly towards him, her eyes faintly sweeping over him, "What do you mean by ’wait until you’ve handled things’? What are you planning to do?"

He was silent for a while, his deep voice firm and resolute, "Our family cannot be split up."

"..."

"I will strive to change the image the children have of me, to win their affection and trust."

The sun made his body crawl with heat; he couldn’t bear it anymore, stepping closer to her and reaching out to hold her hand.

Amelia flinched, "If you want to talk, talk, but don’t touch!"

But she didn’t pull away, and his broad palm gripped her fingers tightly.

His palm was burning hot, clammy.

Amelia thought to herself, it seems he was right about it being hot outside.

"Amelia... For the children’s sake, give us a chance to start over."

He didn’t let go of her hand, and they were mere inches apart.

Suddenly, Amelia also began to feel the heat, uncertain where to rest her gaze.

"Let go of me."

"First, promise me."

"We are not suitable, can’t you see that?"

"We’ve been childhood sweethearts, no one is more suitable for each other than us."

"But you don’t understand me!" Always saying things that misunderstand her.

"I will make an effort to understand you better, from the beginning."

The normally arrogant and overbearing President Hart suddenly seemed like a changed man, his manner sincere, incredibly patient.

Amelia felt her fingers might melt from the heat in his palm; she desperately pulled at her hand, her words coming out with difficulty, "It’s hot outside... I need to go inside."

With that, she finally freed her hand, now pinched red, and scurried into the house.

From the study, the protruding bay window overlooked the living room balcony, where Snow Fitch watched the scene, snickering.

The tables certainly turn.

Miss Fitch was straightforward, feeling uneasy keeping things to herself.

Stepping out, she leaned against the balcony door, taking joy in the misfortune, "Tsk tsk, really pitiful... President Hart, you probably never thought this day would come, did you?"

Christopher turned at the sound, gave her a glance, his eyes sharp and warning.