Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 282: Yo, the Three-Year-Old Hart is being coquettish!

Chapter 282: Chapter 282: Yo, the Three-Year-Old Hart is being coquettish!

Amelia Garcia couldn’t help but laugh, scoffing, "You really have no shame, saying such things! Your body is yours; if you want to kill yourself, there’s nothing I can do about it!"

He earnestly replied, "You do have a way—your presence is the solution."

Amelia turned her head away helplessly, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

His mind might not be right, but that didn’t seem to affect his ability to spout cheesy romantic lines.

"Amelia..." he began to whine again, drawing out the word, seemingly determined not to give up until he got what he wanted.

"Christopher, don’t push your luck. Don’t think that just because I’m being a bit nicer to you now that I have forgiven you."

"You might not forgive me, but that doesn’t stop you from moving in." He continued, dead serious, "Don’t you like to scold me? If you live here, you can do it every day, and if it really comes to it, you can even hit me; after all, I can’t fight back."

Amelia was at a loss for words!

Had his disposition really changed, or was this still the same high and mighty, all-powerful President of Seal-Cloud Corporation?

He was acting just like a child!

"Enough, stop making trouble, my decision won’t change so easily."

"Amelia... you—"

"How did you guys get here so fast? I thought I could catch up on the way, but ended up chasing you all the way home." Mr. Hart hadn’t finished sweet-talking when the familiar voice of Benny Palmer came from behind.

He looked startled, clearly displeased.

Benny Palmer walked in, saw the awkwardness between the two, and the sight of one clinging tightly to the other’s hand, like a child hanging on to his mother, asking for candy. He couldn’t help but chuckle, "Yo—President Hart is acting spoiled? Am I intruding?"

President Hart retorted ungraciously, "Knowing that, why did you still come?"

"Hey... you!" Amelia slapped away his hand, quite dissatisfied with the way he treated people, and turned to Benny Palmer with a smile, "Ignore him, he’s peculiar every single day."

Benny replied, "I’ve known him for more than a day or two. It must be tough for you, being unable to cut ties with him for a lifetime."

"Who’s with him for a lifetime..." Amelia muttered, quickly changing the subject, "Didn’t you say you came to give a present? What gift?"

Benny turned around, and outside, Lucas King wheeled in a wheelchair, "Here... this, I spent a lot of money to have it custom-made especially for Mr. Three-Year-Old Hart—what do you think?"

Christopher frowned, "What Mr. Three-Year-Old? Talk nonsense again, and you can get lost."

"Heh, you can’t look in the mirror right now, or else you’d see for yourself—three years old at most, not a day more."

Amelia stood aside, covering her mouth to stifle her laughter.

The description was quite apt; he did indeed seem like a three-year-old child.

Sometimes even less than that.

The nickname Mr. Three-Year-Old Hart couldn’t be more appropriate.

But Christopher was dissatisfied; he was at least five times older than three!

However, hearing the woman beside him laugh, he looked over in confusion, his tone turning colder by a few degrees, "Do you also think I’m immature?"

Amelia put down her hand, and spoke seriously, "Otherwise? Do you think your behavior right now has anything to do with ’maturity’?

Mr. Hart seemed to be angered, his lips pressed together as he sat with a cold expression without a word.

Lucas King wheeled the wheelchair into the house and stopped, "President Hart, Ma’am, this smart electric wheelchair is specially customized by Young Master Palmer according to President Hart’s height and hand-use habits, conforming to ergonomic principles. You won’t feel uncomfortable even if you sit for a long time, and it also features magnetotherapy massage functions for the waist and legs, and the backrest angle can be adjusted at will—do you want to try it out? If there’s any feature unsatisfactory, the designer can still make improvements."

"Young Master Palmer, you are really thoughtful!" Amelia was already very satisfied just hearing Lucas King’s explanation, so she generously praised him.

Turning to look at the cold-faced man, she excitedly asked, "Want to try it? It’s definitely more comfortable than the wheelchair you’re in now."

He was currently sitting in a standard hospital wheelchair, heavy to push. Theirs was an intelli—

"Didn’t I tell you not to always laugh like a trumpet flower?"

"What?" Amelia Garcia didn’t grasp it at first, "What trumpet flowers?"

Before she could finish her question, seeing both Benny Palmer and Lucas King wear an indescribable and dismissive expression, she suddenly realized.

The woman was furious, "Are you out of your mind? We’re discussing serious matters here!"

He still had that arrogant and aloof demeanor, "Got it, put down the wheelchair, thanks."

This—

Amelia looked at the two men, so embarrassed she wished she could just disappear.

He hadn’t been irrationally jealous like this a few days ago, what had gotten into him these past couple of days?

Just because he had started treating her better and felt there was "hope" for them again, he started to clamp down on her?

After Christopher made that remark and felt the conversation freeze, he didn’t think he had done anything wrong; instead, he looked up nonchalantly, "What’s wrong? Do you want me to invite you to stay for dinner?"

Which meant—it’s time to get lost.

Lucas King was, after all, a subordinate; he didn’t have the boldness or the thick skin, and he was just about to turn around and leave when Benny pulled him back, smiling as he looked toward his friend in the wheelchair, "Oh, since you’re so considerate, we won’t be polite then."

"Pfft..." Amelia couldn’t help but laugh, instantly turning anger into mirth.

But Christopher in the wheelchair, his face was a picture, "Benny Palmer, you..."

"I actually have some business matters to discuss with you. You were hospitalized before, and I thought you were too weak, so I didn’t come to you. Now that you’re discharged and you seem to be in good spirits, even arguing with people, it’s a good time to talk shop."

After finishing his words, Young Master Palmer comfortably walked towards the living room, then called out, "Aunt Harper, I’m thirsty, brew some of your master’s good tea for me. Since he can’t drink it now, let’s not waste it."

Lucas followed behind Benny, a bit jittery, but also unable to suppress a smile.

"Young Master Palmer, are you really staying for dinner?"

"Yeah, I haven’t tasted the Imperial Garden chefs’ handiwork in a while, kind of miss it."

Lucas King: "..."

On one side of the living room, Christopher in the wheelchair glanced around to locate Amelia, his face showing displeasure, "Were they always this shameless before?"

Amelia lazily responded, "Yeah, birds of a feather flock together, aren’t you quite shameless too?"

"..." Someone stubbornly retorted, "Not me."

Hah, just recently he was scolded for being shameless, and now he’s forgotten that already, truly does not deserve a face.

Originally, Christopher was supposed to go back to the bedroom to lie down and rest.

But with Benny and Lucas there, insisting on staying for dinner, he refused to go back to his room.

—He couldn’t possibly leave his woman alone with another man.

Fortunately, that smart wheelchair was indeed very useful.

After a few men helped him switch into a new "ride," he was able to half-lie comfortably and still stay in the living room, enjoying the lively atmosphere—someone’s poker face finally softened a bit.

Benny did indeed talk business with him.

It was strange, he clearly didn’t remember the past few years, but when it came to the company’s projects, the current difficulties, he could discuss them eloquently.

Amelia’s eyes widened in surprise, "Christopher, are you faking it? Isn’t it selective amnesia? How can you remember everything about the company so clearly?"

Christopher was stumped by her question and looked bewildered, "I... I don’t know, when Benny brings it up, I just naturally speak about it, it’s as if these things... haven’t really left me."

Benny caught on and teased, "It is indeed selective forgetting! You just chose to forget all the messed-up things you did, but you remember everything else."

Amelia looked at him skeptically, eyeing him intently, feeling that he might be pretending—just wanting to forget the mistakes he had made, to ask for a fresh start from her.