Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 259: Let’s Start Over

Chapter 259: Chapter 259: Let’s Start Over

The room fell silent for a few seconds before his voice came through.

"...I’m here."

You’re not asleep?

She pursed her lips, speaking softly, "Then... I have to go now. Lie on your side for a while and wait until your back is dry, then have the caregiver help you turn over and lie flat."

Seeing that he did not respond, Amelia Garcia fell silent as well and turned away.

"How long will you keep up this virtue?"

His voice suddenly came from behind her, making her stiffen and turn back.

Christopher Hart had opened his eyes, and because he was lying on his side, his gaze serenely landed on some indistinct spot, as if he were talking to himself.

Seeing that he still harped on this question in his mind, Amelia felt somewhat powerless and seriously asked, "Can’t we get along like friends aside from love and affection? I’ll just consider it as taking care of a friend. Besides, you are the father of our children."

After her words, without waiting for his response, she added, "If you feel that by doing this, I’m causing you misunderstandings and annoyance, then I won’t come. You just behave and listen to the doctors, and cooperate well with the treatment."

"I..." Reason told him that if this woman had made up her mind not to look back, then parting ways was indeed the best outcome.

In his state, there was no need to trap her.

Love can also mean granting freedom, letting her choose according to her heart.

But when the words came to his lips, he discovered that he couldn’t be so magnanimous.

Even though he was now crippled and might live the rest of his life as a burden, he still didn’t want to let go.

Therefore, it was no wonder Amelia was unwilling to turn back.

He was indeed an out-and-out scoundrel—selfish, dominating, unreasonable, and even cruel!

Anyone with a brain would long to stay away from such a scoundrel.

When Amelia saw him begin to speak but not quite manage to clarify, she tilted her head slightly and looked at him, "What... what’s wrong?"

"I didn’t mean that, nor am I annoyed with you." He explained softly, hesitating for a moment before adding, "It’s just that... you are already working hard taking care of the kids and managing work, and now you have to take care of me too..."

"Huh, am I hearing right? You can actually be understanding?" Amelia knew that wasn’t really what he wanted to say, so she deliberately made light of it.

Christopher Hart, subjected to her sarcasm, didn’t continue that line of conversation, simply stating, "You can go, don’t let me hold up your affairs."

Amelia turned to leave, but as her gaze shifted, she saw the lonely, pitiful figure of him lying on his side, his brows tightly furrowed, his face pale.

For some reason, she suddenly turned back and blurted out courageously, "Christopher Hart, haven’t you always been asking for my forgiveness?"

The man’s eyelashes lifted, his face showing turbulent excitement, "You... what do you mean? Are you willing to forgive me?"

"That won’t come so easily, but if you strive hard enough, it wouldn’t be impossible."

Strive hard?

He held his breath, his focus absolute, waiting for her to continue.

"If you can recover in this lifetime, I will forgive you," Amelia announced, her tone clear and firm.

But after this statement, the man’s expression turned grave again.

"You’re trying to provoke me..."

"Think what you want, I have my reasons. If you give up hope and continue to be irritable like this, why should I subject myself to accommodate you? I’m no masochist, wouldn’t it be wonderful for me to live freely with my children?"

"If you can pull yourself together, heal well, and cooperate with the doctors’ treatment—be it five years, ten years, or even twenty years, I will wait."

"You owe me too much, haven’t you always wanted to make it up? How can you, if you just lie there all day unable to move?"

Seeing his face settled into an icy rigidity, yet his eyes subtly trembling as though his emotions were unstable, Amelia withdrew her gaze and finally said, "I’ve said my piece. It’s ultimately your life and future, and it’s up to you to decide what to do."

As her words ceased, Amelia opened the door and left.

Back in his room, after a while, Christopher Hart suddenly came to his senses and desperately asked towards the door, "After you’ve forgiven me, can you give me another chance? Can we... start over!"

The room fell silent after he spoke, with no response.

He realized then that she had already left.

His complexion returned to a silent stillness, as if all his life force had been taken away with her.

But after a moment of quiet, he suddenly seemed to find hope again, a determined light forming in his hollow eyes.

————

It was difficult to say whether Lucas King was highly efficient or if it was just easier to get things done under Christopher Hart’s name.

Two days later, indeed, Lucas King delivered some news.

"Ma’am, that Olivia Williams has been found. She’s a kept woman of a wealthy businessman, currently accompanying him on a business trip in the United States."

Amelia Garcia chuckled coldly, "A mistress?"

"Yep."

No wonder...

That explained it.

She had thought that those who came to Venus Private Custom were either wealthy or noble and shouldn’t be desperate enough for a bit of profit to do such immoral things.

But if she was just a mistress, that made sense.

Searching for ways to accumulate wealth by any means necessary.

"When will they be back? I can’t wait any longer."

"They are supposed to be attending some kind of summit, and maybe they’ll take some time to sightsee. Without ten days to a half a month, they won’t return."

Lucas King explained, knowing Amelia was anxious; he immediately added, "But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a way. President Hart says he can find someone, and we might get a reply today."

Amelia was surprised, "He has a way? He’s lying there immobilized, not even able to make a phone call..."

She stopped mid-sentence, realizing she was belittling him, and paused.

Lucas King clarified, "That businessman, an old man in his fifties or sixties, is acquainted with... Old Master Hart. President Hart is probably going to ask Old Master Hart to intervene."

"..." Amelia clutched her phone, at a loss for words.

Their father-son relationship was like fire and water.

Moreover, if George Hart knew about his son’s injury and that he was still busying himself for her sake, he would likely only get angrier—would he help?

"Lucas, tell him there’s no need, I’ll figure something else out. Just have him focus on healing."

"Ma’am... you know President Hart’s intentions; if you have something to say, you should tell him yourself. Oh, you don’t know his hospital phone number, do you? I’ll send it to you, and if you need to, you can call him directly; the caregiver will switch it to speaker for him."

Amelia was about to say it wasn’t necessary, but Lucas hastily hung up and quickly sent her the hospital room’s landline number.

Glancing at it, she frowned in thought, not wishing to call.

But she was also worried that he might plead with George Hart, and if father and son were to argue, it might lead to anger and upset, further detrimental to his recovery.

"Such a hassle..." she muttered, and still, she made the call.

Once connected, indeed, it was the caregiver who answered.

But when she identified herself, the caregiver seemed troubled, "Miss Garcia, Mr. Hart... he’s still asleep..."

He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake the man only to be yelled at again.

Hearing this, Amelia quickly said, "Then never mind, we’ll talk when he wakes up."

Just as she was about to hang up, she suddenly heard an urgent call from the other side, "Miss Garcia, Mr. Hart is awake, just wait." Without waiting for her to reply, the caregiver immediately switched the phone to speaker.