Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 253: Courting Death

Chapter 253: Chapter 253: Courting Death

"I didn’t say that... I just hope you won’t make things difficult for her and the children," Christopher Hart’s strength was failing, his tone growing weaker, but the dissatisfaction and resolve in his heart had not diminished in the slightest.

"Us making things difficult for her and the children? Is that what she told you?" Emma Carter raised an eyebrow.

Seeing that his parents’ misunderstanding of Amelia had become deep-rooted, Christopher had no choice but to explain, "She didn’t say anything, she just brought Hope to see me. These are things I asked Benny Palmer about."

Despite their own son’s explanation, they still did not believe him; they felt that their son was simply covering for her, convinced that she had bewitched him too deeply.

Emma was so angry she did not know what to say, and the atmosphere remained tense.

Christopher knew his parents were angry, but he still had to say, "If indeed the incident from back then was a misunderstanding, by both emotion and logic... you should apologize to her."

"Enough!" Emma suddenly stood up, unable to suppress the rage in her chest, "You rest well. I’ll be with Wendy tonight and will come see you tomorrow."

Christopher thought of his sister’s health and immediately asked with concern, "How is Wendy doing now?"

"Do you even care how she’s doing? In your heart, haven’t you already convicted us of our guilt? Convinced of your sister’s crimes? It’s a good thing Wendy didn’t come today. If she had, would you also have forced her to apologize to Amelia Garcia?" Emma responded sharply.

Christopher’s expression turned solemn, his pale lips slightly pursed; after a moment, he still said, "One thing at a time, if a mistake is made, if someone is wronged, then an apology is due."

He paused, unable to hold back some words, and continued, "If Wendy hadn’t been so overly nurtured and indulged by you, she wouldn’t have developed this kind of temperament."

"Enough!" George Hart could no longer bear it, unable to accept his son siding with outsiders and criticizing his own family as worthless; he was furious.

"You’re so protective of her, but does she appreciate it?! When you were well before, she wouldn’t change her mind; now that you’re in this state, do you think she’ll care for you?"

The unspoken implication was that no matter how humble or nice you are to someone, it’s all in vain!

He even thought his son was spineless! Unappreciative! Masochistically seeking out suffering!

George finished shouting, looked toward his wife, "What are you waiting for? Let’s go. What’s the use of being so kind to him? Let’s consider him dead, we don’t need such a son!"

Emma stood up, angered but also unable to bear hearing those words, exclaimed, "What are you talking about! He’s barely made it through, and you’re cursing him?"

George didn’t care, leaving in a huff, already out the door.

Emma wanted to chase after her husband but couldn’t leave her son, she pointed with frustration, "You! You really are... a huge disappointment to us!"

Christopher couldn’t see anything, so of course, he didn’t know what his parents looked like in their anger.

The hospital door slammed shut, the room quieted, and with his eyes open, he "watched" the darkness quietly, while Benny Palmer’s words echoed in his ears.

— "She was pregnant with triplets, premature birth, and the medical conditions in the town weren’t good—apparently, she almost died during delivery..."

— "She faked her death and hid away with two children for more than four years before secretly returning."

— "Considering she’s a frail woman, how much must she have gone through to become the strong and independent person she is now?"

As those words accompanied him, he tried to recall them in his mind, but aside from a splitting headache, he couldn’t remember a single image.

————

Amelia Garcia had been busy trying to collect evidence these past few days because her design concept was plagiarized and spent a lot of time with Kane.

Betty had not left, but Kane’s mind was made up, no matter how she made a fuss, it was futile. Upset and hurt, she went to a bar to drink her sorrows away alone.

Surprisingly, she happened to run into a routine police check while at the bar, and she had forgotten to bring her identification with her.

When she called Kane, there was no answer; left with no choice, she thought of another person and immediately called for "help."

Benny Palmer had been swamped lately, and was startled to receive Betty’s call.

Listening to her rapid English description, Young Master Palmer was somewhat frustrated, massaging his temple, he asked in English, "Which bar? I’ll come right over."

Betty was overjoyed, quickly gave him the bar’s address, and waited for him to deal with the situation.

Driving to the bar, the police officers were in the midst of taking away some scantily clad young men and women suspected of illicit activities.

When Betty saw him, she jumped up and waved, "I’m here! I’m here!"

Benny quickly approached, showing his own identification while he stepped forward, "Officer, this is my friend. I guarantee she has complete documentation and is legally in the country—she simply forgot to bring her ID."

The officer verified Benny’s identity, glancing at him with some surprise.

It was the esteemed Young Master Palmer!

"Really your friend?"

"Of course! Otherwise, why would she call me?"

The officer had other pressing matters, and seeing that someone was vouching on her behalf, did not trouble them further and left with their team.

Betty breathed a sigh of relief, turned back, and sat on the high stool again.

Benny Palmer saw off the police, put away his credentials, and, noting the absence of a thank-you from this spoiled miss, walked up with amusement, "Why did you think to call me? Where’s your boyfriend?"

Betty spoke dejectedly, "I don’t have a boyfriend."

Uh-huh!

Looks like they had another fight.

"Kane still unwilling to accept you?"

At the mention of Kane’s name, Betty grew even more displeased and slammed a drink down in front of him, "Don’t talk about him! Since you’re here, drink with me!"

He laughed even more, "We’re not relatives or friends, why should I drink with you? I’m already showing good faith by coming here."

The girl tilted her head back and downed a glass of liquor in one gulp. After slamming the glass down, she turned back to look at him, "It was you who tricked me into coming here... Now I’m all alone, and Kane is ignoring me. If you don’t keep me company, who will?"

Finishing her words, she picked up another glass of liquor in front of him and handed it over, "Consider it a thank you, and let me buy you a drink, okay?"

Thinking about how hard it must be for a girl alone, Benny sighed helplessly and took the glass, "Alright, since I’m here, I’ll have a couple of drinks with you."

Betty continued to drown herself in drink, starting to ramble nonsensically, "What’s so good about that woman... Why do you men all like her? Kane has never been interested in anyone, but only her..."

"Has he lost his mind... spending money, exerting effort, ignoring his family’s opinions, all to be with that woman..."

Listening, Benny pieced together some information and asked, "Are they still together now?"

"Of course! They’re together every day!"

Benny slightly frowned.

What on earth is Amelia up to?

Christopher is awake, and she’s not at the hospital with him, yet she’s getting even closer to Kane...

Is she tired of Christopher? Really planning to be with Kane?

By the time Benny came back to his senses, there were four or five empty glasses in front of Betty.

"Hey, slow down on the drinking! I can’t take care of you if you get drunk!"

The man reached out to grab the glass, but the girl pushed him away, her eyes drunk and her speech slurred, "You... you have to take responsibility for me, understand?"

Benny: "???"

"Don’t think I don’t know... it’s that Hart... Hart, it’s your tricks! You deliberately brought me here to get rid of Kane... I really like him, have liked him for a long time, but he has... has never... I couldn’t resist your temptation, and now here I am... I took the initiative, and he still... doesn’t want me... I’m so heartbroken, it’s you... it’s you who did this to me! You have to take responsibility, yes, responsibility..."

As Benny watched her too drunk to speak coherently yet still able to untangle all these complications, he felt so awkward he could only fidget.

After she had finished speaking, she handed him another glass of liquor, swaying unsteadily, "You, drink, as an apology!"

"Miss Betty, stop drinking, let me take you back to the hotel. It’s getting late, and you—hey!" Before he could finish, the girl bumped into him with her drink. Not only was he doused in liquor, but she also fell into his arms.

Benny was so awkward, panicked, and mortified...

With one hand, he struggled to lift the girl, and with the other, he carried her horizontally, all the while mentally cursing his good buddy a hundred thousand times over!

Was it a past life where he had desecrated the Hart Family’s tomb?

In this life, he had to clean up after President Hart!

Clearly, it was the other man pursuing his wife, yet here he was, laden with karmic debt, with no place to air his grievances!

————

Amelia Garcia finished her work and was getting ready to sleep when it was nearing dawn.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She picked it up and frowned slightly.

Benny Palmer.

Why was he calling so late?

Could it be that Christopher Hart had pulled some stunt again?

Filled with a head full of question marks, she answered the call, "Hello, Young Master Palmer."

Benny was panting and didn’t sound particularly pleasant, "Is that foreigner still with you?"

A completely random statement caught Amelia off guard, "What?"

"Kane! Is he with you?"

Amelia Garcia was inexplicably irritated, "It’s the middle of the night, how could I be with him?"

"Not with you? Then call him and tell him to go to the hotel to take care of Betty."

"Betty?" Amelia was even more surprised, taking a few seconds to process before responding, "Why are you with her?"

"What choice did I have, thanks to you all?" Young Master Palmer was at the hotel room at that moment, taking care of the foreign girl who, after getting drunk, was acting crazy—a situation that was exhausting him to the point he wanted to burst out in national curses.

"Kane couldn’t care less about her; she went to the bar to drown her sorrows alone and almost got taken away by the police as an illegal immigrant. She called me for help, I couldn’t just stand by and watch her die, could I?"

After listening, Amelia understood and couldn’t help but laugh in schadenfreude, "Isn’t this the trouble you asked for? Regretting it now?"

"I..." Benny Palmer was left speechless with frustration, taking a breath before saying, "I’m just the executor! All I wanted to do was bring you all together as a family reunion; how did all these troubles fall on my head?"

"..." Amelia held her phone, silently scoffing with a cold laugh.

"Forget it! Stop talking about that, and get Kane over here to take care of her; I need to get back!"

"I’ll call him, but whether he comes or not is up to him." After all, she couldn’t interfere in someone else’s love life.

Benny, confused by her haughty attitude, curiously asked, "I heard you two have been together every day lately—Amelia, what’s that supposed to mean? Are you looking down on Christopher and planning to fly the coop with that foreigner?"

"..." Amelia took a deep breath, "We’re working!"

"Does work require you to be together every day? You know how he feels about you, don’t you know how to avoid impropriety?"

"..." Amelia clenched her teeth in anger. Initially, she wanted to just hang up the phone and ignore him, but she held back and felt some things had to be clarified to avoid deeper misunderstandings.

"There are some issues recently, and we indeed have had more contact, but once this is resolved, I will convince him to return home."

"Really? I hope you keep your word because, after all, Christopher is still waiting for you."

"I never asked him to wait for me."

"To say that is heartless. You haven’t been to the hospital these past few days, have you? He can’t see, can’t move, can’t come to find you, can’t even make a phone call, lying there every day as if years are passing by; do you realize how devastated he is? Even if you don’t love him anymore, he’s still the father of your three children; can you really be so heartless..." Mumph!

Benny’s words were cut off as the delirious girl wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, nearly suffocating him.

Amelia heard the chaotic sounds through the phone, alternating between the man’s desperate and helpless chastising and the woman’s moaning and fussing—her expression complicated and difficult to discern.

"I got it, I’ll find time to visit him, you just... take care of that Betty."

Benny’s phone dropped as he yelled, "You better call that foreigner fast! I’m no spare tire, always helping to look after someone else’s woman!"

"..." Amelia’s mouth twitched, and she quickly hung up the phone to call Kane.

Kane was still in a meeting with the legal team in Zurich and was surprised by the call.

Once he understood the situation, he replied with unexpected calmness, "I’m busy right now and can’t leave. Since she has someone looking after her, she should be fine."

"No, Kane... Betty is drunk, and with a man she doesn’t know well—it could be very dangerous, do you understand?" Amelia urged in a worried tone.

Even though she saw Betty as an "enemy" who had caused her trouble, people’s personal safety always came first.

Of course, she didn’t distrust Benny’s character.

But with a lone drunk woman and man together, many things couldn’t just be guaranteed by morals and character.

Kane repeated himself, "I’m in a meeting; I’m busy."

Amelia understood, suspecting he did it on purpose, thinking that Betty was trouble brought on by George and Benny; so if she landed on Benny, it was only getting what he deserved.

After hanging up, Amelia felt torn.

She wasn’t saintly enough to turn the other cheek, she couldn’t possibly go take care of someone who had slapped her in the middle of the night.

After a long silence, she grabbed her phone and composed a message.

In the hotel room, Young Master Palmer, exhausted from dealing with Betty’s craziness, hurried over when he heard his phone.

But the message on the screen made him want to howl at the sky!

"Young Master Palmer, good luck to you!"

Ah!!!

These ungrateful wretches!

He swore, if he ever meddled in others’ affairs again, it was no better than being a pig!

————

Christopher Hart had been living in darkness for almost a week.

From the initial disbelief to the full-blown anticipation, and now to the fading of hope, his temper was slowly spiraling out of control with time.

Had it just been blindness, perhaps the sense of defeat wouldn’t have been so overwhelming.

But now, his entire body was immobile. Waking up was no different from sleeping, as he lay there like a living corpse, waiting for time to pass by—anyone would start to unravel eventually.

He didn’t know what time he awoke in the early hours, the hospital room was tranquil, yet his ears could catch the sound of rain and wind outside.

Protracted irritability increasingly disrupted his sleep—as he lay there, his mind racing, life seemed ever more unworthy.

Trying to stir his limbs, yet his body did not feel like his own; from head to toe, it would not obey commands.

Straining until his body shook and spasmed with pain, he remained flat like a mummy, utterly immobile.

Thus, he finally endured until dawn...

The only reason he knew it was dawn was that the rain had stopped outside, birds were chirping, and the hallway was alive with footsteps, voices—the world was awakening, and a new day was beginning.

But for him, it was still an extension of the darkness, with no change whatsoever.

Doctors and nurses entered to do their rounds, asking their usual questions, and he responded mechanically, using just a word or two.

Someone brought breakfast in, and the nursing assistant raised the head of his bed, preparing to feed him.

But he had no appetite.

"Mr. Hart, the doctor says you have surgery the day after tomorrow. You need to ensure your nutrition. Please try to eat something," the nursing assistant urged him dutifully, mindful of the expensive care costs.

Christopher was unmoved, "Go out."

"Mr. Hart, you—"

"Do you not understand when I say get out?! Scram!" he suddenly exploded in rage, screaming, and the bedside monitors started to "beep" frantically.

Medical staff quickly rushed in.

This wasn’t the first time such an incident had occurred, and the director had no remedy but to let the nursing assistant leave.

"Mr. Hart, we are doing our best to find reliable treatment options. Please be patient."

The man said nothing and closed his eyes—though closing them or not made no difference to him.

The director sighed helplessly, turned with the nurses, and stepped out, instructing softly on the way, "Put him on nutrition later."

Without eating or drinking, he could only rely on intravenous nutrition to sustain his body’s needs.

Quiet returned to the hospital room. Christopher opened his eyes, his handsome face gradually losing its composure, his body trembling uncontrollably.

There was a way of living that was more terrifying than death.

And now, he could not even seek his own demise.

Time passed, he didn’t know how much later, the door to his room clicked again, footsteps approaching.

Perhaps it was his blindness that sharpened his hearing; he could pick up the faintest footsteps now—even if those people tried to slow down, he could hear them.

"Aren’t you supposed to get out? What are you doing back here?! Scram!" His tone was low and deep, but forceful and fierce.

Amelia Garcia continued toward the bedside, staring at his increasingly gaunt face, feeling numb inside, "You’ve barely survived a disaster, are you planning to give up on yourself now?"

The moment she spoke up, the man’s face changed abruptly, his unfocused eyes instinctively turning towards her.

Quickly, he snarled, "What are you here for?"

His tone was harsh, and Amelia didn’t hold back either. She set down the soup she’d brought, retorting coldly, "To see if you’ve died yet."

"..." At her words, he was speechlessly silenced.

Amelia turned her back, opened the thermos, poured out a bowl of soup, and sat down by the bed, "I made the soup myself. Do you want to drink some?"

The man said nothing, turning his head away.

She glanced at him, not wasting words, scooped up some soup with a spoon, leaned over, and brought it to his lips.

Christopher didn’t move or open his mouth.

"Not drinking?"