Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 290: What Christopher Hart Gives, You Must Take!

Chapter 290: Chapter 290: What Christopher Hart Gives, You Must Take!

At that moment, it was deep into the night back home.

Christopher Hart sat in his wheelchair, waiting outside the hospital room.

When he heard that Emma Carter had been admitted to the hospital, he immediately rushed over.

But George Hart was furious and refused to see him or let him enter Emma Carter’s hospital room.

After nearly an hour, the door to the hospital room still hadn’t opened.

Aunt Harper and Fuller stood by his side, both anxious and uneasy.

"Sir, your body can’t take this, perhaps... we should head back first, and come again tomorrow after the madam calms down," Aunt Harper proposed softly, steeling herself.

Yet Christopher Hart didn’t move, his face indiscernible in the dim light, his brow filled with gloom, looking as if he was angry, yet seemingly indifferent.

Seeing that he didn’t respond, Aunt Harper dared not say more, and after waiting quietly for a while, she silently withdrew to the side.

Around dawn, his body clearly could not endure any longer; his normally erect posture now hunched and leaning against the back of the chair.

If it weren’t for the wheelchair that Benny Palmer had custom-made for him being so comfortable, he feared he would have collapsed from exhaustion much earlier.

Finally, the door to the hospital room opened, and George Hart came out.

Christopher Hart looked up, "gazing" toward the direction of the sound.

The fact that his sight had been restored was something not even George Hart and his wife knew about.

And now they were indifferent to whether their son’s condition had improved, consumed only by anger, heartache, frustration, even regretting having such an unfilial son!

"What are you doing here? Not content with having upset your mother enough? Want her to be sent to the emergency room again?" George Hart gave his son a cold look and spoke with reproof and sarcasm.

Looking at his father, Christopher Hart felt a complex mix of emotions.

In his memory, his father was still in the prime of life, but now, he seemed aged and grey.

As a son, he had indeed been undutiful.

But what he couldn’t understand was why his parents valued face and status so much.

They were clearly in the wrong, so why couldn’t they humble themselves and apologize to Amelia?

When had this prejudice and hatred become so deeply ingrained that it couldn’t be dissolved?

"I didn’t mean to upset you, and I wasn’t planning on keeping this a secret from you forever, it’s just that you hadn’t been around recently, so I hadn’t mentioned it."

The "matter" he referred to was transferring all his property into Amelia’s name.

Due to his health, he had entrusted Lawyer Jones to handle everything, but somehow the news had leaked and the family had found out.

In the afternoon, his mother had gone to Imperial Garden to confront, scold, and berate him, finally demanding that he retrieve the property. He naturally refused, leading to a fallout between mother and son.

That evening, he received a call from Wendy Hart, telling him that his mother had been rushed to the hospital.

He didn’t believe he was in the wrong, but since his mother fell ill because of him, both morally and emotionally, he had to come and "seek forgiveness."

"Not keeping it secret? All the procedures are done and we have no idea, how is that not keeping it secret?! Christopher Hart, what exactly is going on in your head? Just for a woman, to the point of losing your senses and becoming completely infatuated?!"

George Hart’s own heart was weak, and his face was visibly flushed, one hand pressed to his chest as he gasped for breath after his outburst of questioning.

Fuller and Aunt Harper watched from the side, both nervously sweating on his behalf.

"And that Amelia Garcia... I really underestimated her, all these years, she had you completely under her thumb, and now even more so! She looks so soft and harmless, yet she’s more manipulative than anyone! She’s purposely dangling you along, using the three children as leverage, and you keep falling for it! If you would just listen to us and take back custody of your children, let’s see what else she can use to manipulate you!"

Listening to his father’s typical slander, Christopher Hart’s handsome face turned cold, a dark anger brooding in his deep eyes as he said in a low voice, "Back then I wasn’t manipulated enough by her, which led to my confusion and hurt her."

Otherwise, there wouldn’t be such a situation now.

George Hart’s gaze shifted, hearing his son’s words; his heart seemed to ache even more.

"You—you’re hopeless!" He turned to go back into the room, but feeling aggrieved, he turned back and snapped, "If you don’t bring the property back, then don’t consider yourself part of the Hart Family! I, George Hart, would rather have no descendants than an unfilial son like you!"

The hospital room door slammed shut, and the hallway fell silent.

Christopher Hart sat there, somewhat listlessly for a while, then made a motion with one hand, "Let’s go back."

Fuller quickly stepped forward, "Yes, President Hart."

Aunt Harper readjusted the blanket on his legs, which had slipped a little, and covered him properly, sighing with a sense of helplessness.

Just as they returned to the car, Fuller’s phone rang.

He checked it and his eyes darkened slightly, "President Hart, it’s from the madam."

The man reached out his hand.

Fuller answered the call and handed the phone to him.

"Fuller, have you gone to bed? I tried calling Christopher Hart’s phone and no one answered, you should quickly..."

"Amelia..." Before the woman’s anxious voice had settled, Christopher Hart slowly interrupted.

Amelia Garcia was taken aback, "Christopher Hart? Where are you? Why didn’t you answer the phone? Did something happen?"

"In the middle of the night, of course, I’m sleeping; it’s normal not to hear the phone ringing... What’s wrong, getting anxious after not being able to reach me for a little while, still saying I’m not in your heart?"

Christopher Hart wasn’t sure whether Amelia Garcia was already aware of the situation, instinctively trying to deflect and even teasing her intentionally.

This was his own strange fault.

She was completely unaware, having been tricked into signing by him.

Originally, he had wanted to show his loyalty, to tie himself to her name, to make it impossible for her to ever shake him off—yet who would have known that his clever plan would backfire, and now his family had found out and believed she had bewitched him, swindling all his property.

Feeling somewhat guilty, Christopher Hart was hoping she was still unaware of the matter, wanting to sort things out with his family before she returned to the country.

But he didn’t know that Wendy Hart had already contacted Amelia Garcia at the first opportunity, angrily cursing her out.

Hearing him beating around the bush, Amelia Garcia grew even more certain that something had gone wrong on his end, and without wanting to beat around the bush herself, she got straight to the point, "The agreement you made me sign that day, was there any deceit in it?"

The man’s smile froze on his face, his brows and eyes hardening.

Without his response, Amelia understood completely and began to coldly laugh, "Christopher, I just knew... you, you’re simply—"

"Amelia, I’m sorry, this matter was indeed due to my lack of consideration."

Now that things had come to light, he immediately started to apologize, trying to soothe her.

But when Amelia heard how smoothly he apologized, she knew the situation was much more serious than she had thought!

"Wendy says you’ve given me all your property. What exactly is going on? I glanced over the agreement that day, and it only covered the children. Could it be that Christopher Hart’s entire wealth is just that ten-plus billion?"

The guilt-ridden Mr. Hart still stubbornly held his silence.

"Christopher! Is it that you must drive me away once more for things to end?"

Upon hearing this, panic immediately struck the man’s heart, his complexion fluctuating, "Amelia, I... that agreement, I had the lawyer withdraw a few pages beforehand."

Across the ocean, Amelia Garcia pressed a hand to her forehead, her eyes closing heavily, feeling so angry that her heart, liver, and lungs all hurt.

She couldn’t imagine that this guy would actually scheme against her!

"So, all the property in your name has now been transferred to mine?"

Hearing her quivering voice, Christopher became a bit flustered, "...almost, yes..."

"Christopher." Furious to the extreme, Amelia steadied herself somewhat, her tone dark, chilly, and filled with a resolute heartbreak, "Do you know that this kind of one-sided devotion and offering doesn’t touch me at all, and only makes me feel embarrassed and frightened?"

Christopher knew what she meant, but he almost sincerely said, "Everything was freely given by me, and you can accept it with a clear conscience. Of course, if you want to repay me somehow, I would also be delighted."

About, say, being a little nicer to him, spending a little more time with him every day.

She laughed out of frustration, "You do know this is kidnapping, right?"

"Hmm, kidnapping in the name of love."

"..." Amelia listened to his murmured candor, momentarily unsure how to respond.

To outsiders, it would definitely seem like she was ungrateful.

This man, despite his own misery, was still going all out to treat her well.

Without batting an eyelid, he forced two billion of a vast sum of funds on her, helping her gain full control of Venus.

Then, with casual flair, he transferred over ten billion of his assets to her, ostensibly as child maintenance.

That should’ve been the end of it—yet she only found out today that what he had given was far more than that.

He had tinkered with the agreement and given her all his assets...

Amelia Garcia held her phone, her mind in utter disarray.

There are a million scumbags in the world, scumbags of all shapes and forms, but none would go to such lengths to bestow all their wealth upon an ex-wife and coerce acceptance by any means necessary.

If she continued to label Christopher Hart as a scumbag, even the heavens might not stand for it.

This whitewashing, it must be said, Mr. Hart did with great audacity.

"Forget it, when I return to the country, I will return everything to you. I’m able-bodied; I can earn money to support myself and the kids. What isn’t mine, I won’t take a cent."

"Amelia, what I have given you, you must accept. Whatever Christopher Hart gives away, be it money or sincerity, I will not take back."

"You—"

"Amelia, it’s late at night here, and although I’d love to hear more of your voice, I’m truly exhausted. Shall we talk tomorrow?" He had been sitting idly in the hallway for two or three hours, and his strength was severely depleted, his words now carrying an air of weariness and fatigue.

But the real reason was that he truly couldn’t come up with a way to appease her at the moment, so he chose to temporarily evade.

Amelia also knew he was trying to escape out of guilt, but it was indeed the wee hours back in the country.

So, she let him off the hook.

After hanging up, Christopher’s phone felt almost too heavy to hold in his weakened state.

Fuller was full of concern, "President Hart, how are you? Should I call the family doctor over?"

"No need, I’m fine."

It wasn’t physical discomfort that was bothering him now, but rather how to untangle this mess.

If she returned to the country and insisted on giving everything back, how could he persuade her?

Christopher Hart, renowned and prominent for thirty years, now found himself ironically without a clue on how to please a woman!

Why couldn’t she just see through to reason?

She was clearly not so heartless or ruthless towards him, so why was she so determined to draw a line between them?

And then there was his family...

When would they let go of their prejudices and animosity? When would they approve of him and Amelia?

Struggling with opposing forces, Christopher Hart, who had always been in control, faced an unprecedented defeat.