Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 194 How could I be intimate with you every night?

Chapter 194: Chapter 194 How could I be intimate with you every night?

The man hadn’t finished speaking when Amelia Garcia swiftly cut him off.

Really full and bloated.

Did he really think a reintroduction could erase everything from the past?

Three kids were right there in the flesh, constantly reminding her of the love she had for that man, of a marriage that once was.

Unless her brain was damaged, suddenly afflicted with amnesia, she would never be able to indulge in such self-deceiving games.

The phone rang, and she knew without looking that it was still Christopher Hart calling.

This guy really went all out, shamelessly at that.

She pressed mute and continued working, only for Shaw to knock and enter again.

"Sis, someone’s looking for you..." Shaw held up her own phone, her voice trailing off.

Amelia had just picked up her pen when she heard this and looked at her assistant, her frown deepening with irritation, "Is it him calling?"

"Um..."

"Hang up."

"But he said if you don’t let him finish speaking, he could go through calling everyone here." Shaw thought to herself that he truly was a domineering CEO, so Man!

Upon hearing this, Amelia felt like exploding with anger!

Was this the attitude of someone who admitted his mistakes?

Did this look like someone who wanted to start anew?

He was nothing more than a thug!

"You hang up. I’ll call him back."

Amelia gestured with a flick of her hand for her assistant to leave, then used the office landline to call that certain Mr. Hart.

Yes, mad, not Hart.

The call connected quickly, and that infuriatingly familiar deep voice came through again, "You really must insist on learning the hard way."

"Spit it out if you have something to say; just let it out if you need to vent!"

Christopher’s voice carried a hint of helplessness, "Amelia, you used to be so gentle."

"And that’s how I got bullied to death by you guys."

She hadn’t expected such a sharp retort from her, and Christopher was left momentarily speechless. After a two-second silence, he managed to say, "People make mistakes, I’ve come to make amends, haven’t I? Yet you won’t even give me a chance to plead my case."

"..." Amelia kept quiet.

But fortunately, she didn’t hang up.

Christopher seemed to enjoy this telephonic back-and-forth, his tone becoming gentle again, "Why don’t you want the flowers I sent you?"

"I don’t like them."

"You like it when that foreigner sends them—but mine you don’t?"

"What makes you think you can compare yourself with Kane?"

Christopher had been trying to reconnect, but she was deliberately provoking him.

Using his rival to put him down.

"No matter how good he might be, he’s not your type. Maybe he’s already busy preparing for a wedding now."

Amelia didn’t make a sound.

But thinking of Kane returning to his country, apart from sending a message that he had arrived safely, there had been no news since—a thought that indeed struck her as odd.

Could it be... he really was planning to marry that modern lady?

But for such a significant event, he should have informed her, shouldn’t he?

"What, don’t you believe it?"

His words brought her back to the present, and Amelia grew even more impatient, "Are you done? I’ll hang up if you are! And don’t you bother the people around me anymore."

"Then answer my calls in the future."

She took that as a threat, her fingers gripping the handset, she resisted the urge to react, "Christopher... you, you’re beyond help!"

"I just want to talk to you. Even after so many years since our divorce, we can still be friends, right? Why do you have to avoid me like I’m a plague? Is it perhaps because... deep down, you really can’t let go of the past, so you’re afraid to face me?"

A jolt went through Amelia’s heart, and she quickly denied it, "You’re overthinking it. It’s because I despise you that I don’t want to talk to you."

"Despise me? Your feelings for me... have they truly reached the point of hatred?" The man seemed hurt.

Amelia: "..."

"Amelia, even during the worst years of our relationship, I never hated you."

She was skeptical, "Is that so? You ignored me back then."

"But I still kept you in my mind."

"..." She didn’t believe it.

"Really. Think about it, if I hated you, why would I be intimate with you every night? Unless I’m on a business trip, or you’re not feeling well, haven’t I always..."

"Enough! Speaking such things in broad daylight, have you no shame? I have work to do, hanging up now!"

Amelia Garcia’s cheeks burned with heat from his unabashed words; she cut him off irritably and firmly placed the receiver down.

During those worst years, had he never hated her?

Ha, as if that were possible!

He rarely came home for dinner in three years, always returning late at night after she’d gone to sleep, and even on weekends and holidays, he wouldn’t stay at home.

Even if he was busy with work, it couldn’t possibly be that he had no days off, working overtime every day, right?

Plus, she had heard from other sources that he wasn’t always working late at the company or out at social engagements—he often went out to dine with friends, or to the gym for a swim.

They had an indoor heated pool at home.

Why would he rather swim elsewhere than come back home?

It was clear as day that he didn’t want to see her, that he didn’t want to share a space with her.

If that didn’t count as hatred, then what did?

After her mind churned through a mess of thoughts, she tapped her head to remind herself not to ponder anything related to him anymore and to focus on her work.

Time to get off work.

Thinking she would soon see the children, she was eager and delighted.

But as soon as she stepped out of her office, she sensed something was off.

As she focused her gaze, she saw a familiar figure sitting on the reception sofa in the front hall!

The man sat cross-legged, casually flipping through a magazine, as relaxed and graceful as if he were in his own living room.

Meanwhile, in the work cubicles around him, countless women were either surreptitiously or openly staring at him, hearts in their eyes and looks of infatuation.

It took a few seconds for Amelia to recover.

Christopher Hart!

Why was he at the company blocking her way again?

What exactly did he want!

Biting her lip in frustration, she marched over with the intention of shooing him away, just as Christopher noticed her and looked up to see her.

Then, the man’s lips curved into a smile, and he stood up, putting the magazine down as he approached: "Finished work? I’m here to pick you up."

Amelia’s face turned an iron shade as she glared at him, heading toward the elevator hall in a low voice, "No need, you better leave quickly, and don’t come back again."

"I’m already here, I can’t just come for nothing," Christopher said with his long legs keeping pace beside her, his tone as gentle as ever.

Amelia ignored him.

Not until the elevator arrived and she stepped in, cutting off the curious and gossipy gazes of her coworkers, did she turn back to look at him: "Christopher Hart, do you think you’re being particularly devoted now? Have you touched yourself with your own devotion?"

Knowing that she was about to mock him again, his expression became slightly more serious, "Moved by myself? Not really, but my intention to reconcile is sincere."

"But I don’t want to, don’t you understand? This is causing me serious trouble!"

Her tone was grave, and her expression stern.

The conversation fell silent within the elevator.

Christopher looked at her, silent as well.

After a few seconds, Amelia felt the atmosphere was off and looked at him, "What now? Nothing to say?"

Mr. Hart nodded slightly, frowning as if he was seriously reflecting, "I just thought I should take the initiative to get close to you, I didn’t realize it would trouble you."

"..." Is there something wrong with his brain?

"But, since I’m already here..."

"No need, I’ll drive myself home, you go back and stay with Hope," Amelia interrupted him, and just as the elevator reached her floor, she stepped out without a second glance.

Christopher’s car wasn’t in the garage; it was parked above ground.

Thus, after watching her leave, he turned his gaze away and pressed for the first floor.

As Amelia’s car left the garage, she immediately saw the waiting Rolls-Royce Cullinan on the roadside.

A surge of anger welled up in her chest, nearly spewing out.

This bastard...

Simply relentless!

Though she was enraged, she had no intention of engaging with him further, so she floored the gas pedal and sped away.

Sitting in the car, Mr. Hart watched the rapidly receding taillights and smiled faintly as he followed suit.

At the same time, he made a call to the house.

"Send Hope over, and just tell her... we’ll be having dinner at her mom’s tonight."