Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 280: The Three Little Ones Compete to ‘Spoil’ Daddy

Chapter 280: Chapter 280: The Three Little Ones Compete to ‘Spoil’ Daddy

The next day, Amelia Garcia arranged for others to cover her work and took leave for the children, leading her three little ones to the hospital with great fanfare.

While they were still in the corridor, they could hear Emma Carter’s voice coming from the patient’s room.

Outside the ward door, she stopped in her tracks.

"Tell me, isn’t this a mess of your own making! I told you to come home and live with us, but you refused. You insisted on staying with them—and look what that got you! They don’t even want you!"

"If you went back to the Imperial Garden, you’d just lie there all day, unable to see or talk, unable to move. Wouldn’t that drive you mad?"

"That is the home where you grew up; it’s not a tiger’s den or a wolf’s lair. Why is it so difficult for you to return?"

"Your father and I only want what’s best for you. You really don’t know good from bad!"

Amelia listened to these words with a complex expression on her face.

She also felt that what her ex-mother-in-law was saying made sense; this guy really brought trouble on himself.

Sigh...

But as much as she knew this, listening to him being scolded, why did she feel... a bit sorry for him?

Just as she was thinking this, beside her, Noah looked up with his big, drowsy eyes, "Dad is so pitiful, even at his age... he still gets scolded by his mom every day."

Amelia couldn’t help but laugh, affectionately pinching her son’s cheek.

Hope said, "The Wicked Witch is exactly like that, so fierce!"

"Hope!" Amelia looked seriously at her daughter, "You must not speak of your elders in that way."

The little girl muttered, "But she is just like that..."

Amelia squatted down, making eye contact with her daughter at eye level, and emphasized gently yet firmly, "Hope, she is an elder; she is your daddy’s mommy. If she does something wrong, you can ignore her or not call her, but you cannot insult people like that, got it?"

Hope looked at her mother’s serious and earnest face, feeling somewhat intimidated and nodded, "I understand... Mommy, I won’t do it again."

Before she had finished, the ward’s door was pulled open and a care worker came out.

Seeing them, the care worker was startled, "Miss Garcia, you’re here."

With her exclamation, all the attention in the room was drawn their way.

Emma turned her head and saw them, her face growing even more angry, but seeing the children with her, she restrained her rage.

Amelia stood up, took a look inside the room, and quietly adjusted her emotions before entering with the children.

"Is everything... packed up? Is the discharge process completed yet? If not, I—"

"All set, just waiting for you to come." She hadn’t finished speaking when the man lying on the hospital bed interrupted, his gaze fixed in her direction amidst his confusion.

"Oh." Amelia responded, then gently patted her son on the back.

Noah immediately ran forward, "Daddy, we also came with Mommy to pick you up from the hospital."

Hearing the children’s voices, Christopher Hart’s face immediately lit up with a smile.

He was able to lift his hand a little now, so he raised it.

Noah promptly caught his hand and placed it on his own head, "I’m the big brother, this is the little brother, and this is our little sister... The little brother is a big eater; that’s why he’s taller than me."

Holding onto his dad’s big hand, he touched both his little brother’s and little sister’s heads, feeling each of them.

Christopher had already heard Benny Palmer diss his little son about being a big eater, and now hearing the big brother’s precise teasing, he felt a bit sympathetic for his little one and laughed, "Children should eat more, it’s their growing time."

Ethan immediately puffed with pride, "Did you hear that? Dad said being able to eat is a blessing. You picky, you’re wasting food, understand?"

Noah: "..."

Amelia watched this scene, feeling its warmth and humor, and her expression softened a lot, with a glimpse of amusement twinkling in her bright eyes.

Emma watched their warm interaction, envious yet stifled.

The children came in as if they hadn’t even seen her, not even a hint of greeting.

And Amelia, she too hadn’t looked at her.

Clearing her throat, she turned to the young woman with a smile, taking the initiative to speak, "What are you here for? Didn’t you disagree with Christopher staying at your place?"

Amelia looked at her former mother-in-law, the remnants of a smile still on her face, and explained, "I’m too busy, I don’t have time to take care of him, and I also advised him that going back to the old mansion would be best."

"Hmph..." Emma scoffed coldly and looked away.

Amelia didn’t bother with her further, turning to the hospital bed to remind, "Alright, since everything is arranged, let’s go."

"Mhm." Christopher acquiesced and said to the children, "Shall we go back and play some more?"

"Daddy, do you need our help to get up?"

"Daddy, what if you can’t walk?"

The children, adorably concerned, surrounded the bed, each speaking in turn.

Amelia looked around and, seeing no wheelchair in the patient’s room, was about to ask when she saw the care worker come back, pushing a wheelchair.

She followed the care worker to the bedside, signaling the children to step aside.

A group of medical staff entered, and seeing Christopher attempting to get up, they quickly came forward to assist.

Amelia, seeing him turning pale with pain from just the act of sitting up, did not dare to get involved and quickly stepped back, allowing the doctors to get him out of bed and seated in the wheelchair.

Emma watched from the side, her heart aching and wrenched at the sight of her son in such a state.

Her heart ached naturally because her son was suffering so much and might never recover fully.

Her grief stemmed from the fact that it was all self-inflicted; he hadn’t heeded the wisdom of his elders and was now facing the consequences.

Settled in the wheelchair, Christopher was already covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"Doctor... are you sure he can be discharged in this condition?" Amelia, scared, asked worriedly.

The director explained, "The wound has not fully healed yet, and it’s normal to feel pain when moving. He has not regained sensation below his waist now, so it’s normal to have difficulty moving—all of these require gradual care and subsequent rehabilitation."

Knowing the family’s concerns, the director looked at her and Emma, reassuring them, "Don’t worry, the family doctor will follow up every other day, and any issues will be dealt with promptly."

After hearing so much, Amelia Garcia was still not at ease. She walked up to the wheelchair and muttered, "What’s the rush to get out of the hospital? Either way, you can’t move. It’s good to stay in the hospital; you’ve got doctors and nurses all..."

"Who wants to stay in the hospital every day?" Before she could finish, Mr. Hart, with cold sweat on his face, cut her off.

Amelia had no choice but to close her mouth.

Emma Carter was on a phone call, and from what she could hear, it was a relative from home.

Amelia saw her turn and step out, then she took one last chance to confirm with someone, "You’re really not going back with your mom?"

"You’re really full of nonsense today."

"What an attitude!" She was angry, twisting the man’s ear in one swift motion, causing him to sharply inhale from the pain.

But his reaction was slow, and by the time he lifted his hand, she had already withdrawn her "claw."

To outsiders, the interactions between the two were no different from playful flirting.

Only, the parties involved probably didn’t realize it.

"I’m already like this, and you still deal such blows, truly ’hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’!"

"If I were really cruel, I wouldn’t care about you!"

"Hah, if you didn’t care about me, ask the kids if they agree?"

Hearing their dad mentioning them, the three little ones who had backed away immediately stepped forward.

Ethan had brute strength and was eager to try pushing the wheelchair. "Dad, let me push you!"

Before he could finish, his hands had already touched the wheelchair’s armrests.

Noah objected, "You’re so clumsy, move aside!"

"You’re so thin, do you even have the strength?"

"Both of you stop fighting, Dad likes me the best, I’ll push him!"

Amelia was stunned for a second before the three little ones started pushing and shoving each other for the wheelchair.

"Alright, alright, stop fighting. You are too young to push, mom will do it."

Thankfully the wheelchair had its wheels locked, otherwise, their scuffle would have sent someone flying already.

So, not letting him move in with us was definitely a wise decision, considering his "personal safety."

The combined destructive power of the three little ones was certainly no less than that of a hand grenade.

Since he needed to recuperate, it’s best for him to live alone, in peace and safety.

"Let’s go," Christopher Hart said as he saw her not moving the wheelchair, prompting her.

"Your mom hasn’t come back yet... She went out to make a call."

"Oh."

"You’re being discharged, and your dad didn’t come?"

"Yeah, he probably doesn’t want this unfilial son anymore."

"..."

Amelia cast a sidelong glance at the top of his head, wanting to say he deserved it, but when she saw the healing scar among his hair, she held back her words.

Falling from the seventh floor, head bleeding profusely, according to the doctor, even a piece of the skull was broken...

How painful must that have been?

It was hard to believe he had survived, and now he was being discharged from the hospital.

As for the scar left on his head, she wondered if hair would ever grow back there.

If it didn’t, that scar would surely be unsightly.

But then again, if he couldn’t see it, it probably didn’t matter to him.

Emma Carter pushed the door and walked in, seeing them all ready to go, the family looking cheerful and harmonious, while she was clearly unwelcome. She then said, "Since you’re not going back to the old residence, I’ll be leaving too. Wendy said she wanted to eat my cooking, so I’ll go back and prepare food for her."

Amelia was slightly taken aback, quite disapproving of the apparent favoritism.

But Christopher Hart didn’t care at all, simply responding, "Go take care of Wendy then, don’t worry about me."

Emma Carter said sarcastically, "What should I worry about? Would worrying help? It’s just needless concern, isn’t it?"

With that, she glanced at the three children huddled together and turned to leave, leaving the adults and children in the room exchanging glances.

But Christopher Hart genuinely didn’t care and urged again, "Let’s go, can’t push? Then call the caretaker to push."

As Amelia pushed him, she sighed, "You really are heartless, oblivious to the blessings you have."

Looking at her, growing up without a mother, neglected by her father, tormented by a stepmother, she had always longed for the warmth of a family.

But what about him? With both parents alive and caring, he still sought ways to court death every day, acting unfilially in every possible way.

This world...

Downstairs at the hospital, Fuller was waiting with two bodyguards.

Seeing them come out, Fuller hurried forward to help.

When Christopher Hart got into the car, he felt that the chassis was quite high and the inside spacious. After settling in and touching around, he frowned slightly and asked in surprise, "Is this your car?"

A woman driving such an imposing and formidable car?

Amelia asked in astonishment, "You can see?"

"I’m asking exactly because I can’t see. It doesn’t feel like a business vehicle, but it’s quite comfortable."

"Heh, good guess," she scoffed with a self-deprecating tone, "I certainly can’t afford a car like this."

Fuller spoke up, "President Hart, this is your car, the Navigator Lincoln Presidential. You had it custom-ordered from abroad not long before the accident. It’s been security-modified, specifically for picking up Miss Hope and the two young masters to and from school."