Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 306: Stirring Hearts

Chapter 306: Chapter 306: Stirring Hearts

That night, Snow learned the news and called.

"Amelia, you’re flying back home tomorrow? Are you sure about this? You just survived a plane crash, and now you dare to fly again? An eight- to nine-hour long haul—with turbulence, no doubt—you..."

Amelia wasn’t feeling well and spoke listlessly, "Did Christopher send you to persuade me?"

"No, he just asked me if I wanted to go back with you tomorrow. If you’re going, of course I’ll accompany you, but as for Shaw..."

Amelia sighed and said helplessly, "I know it’s too rushed, and there’s still plenty of work to cooperate with the airline’s investigation here. But I just can’t stop worrying about Noah and the others."

Thinking about Hope being beaten made her heart ache, and her voice trembled faintly as she spoke: "I know Emma Carter all too well. What if she goes to Imperial Garden again? Fuller and Aunt Harper may love the children, but even they can’t withstand Emma’s overbearing nature."

Snow was furious too: "Ugh... Those two are unbelievable! Their son can’t live without you, and they were even willing to hand over their entire fortune for you—so why won’t they just come around?"

Amelia bitterly chuckled, "They hate me because their son treats me too well."

"True enough... But what’s Christopher thinking? Sure, the way he handled this is admirable, but it’s just—"

Snow paused, unable to describe Christopher’s jaw-dropping measures, then abruptly shifted the topic: "But if you two do get remarried, this money wouldn’t go to an outsider! Why can’t Emma see that? The smarter choice would be to make peace with you, keep you with him for life!"

That way... wouldn’t it keep everything in the family? Breaking ties is what really causes losses!

"Maybe... we’re just fated to clash, diametrically opposed from the start," Amelia said, her tone laced with self-mockery, as she couldn’t think of any other explanation.

She had always prided herself on living honorably and maintaining good relations with people.

Yet somehow, Emma despised her to this extreme.

"Amelia, did you and Christopher... have another argument because of this?"

She remained silent, and Snow understood immediately.

"You know, he’s innocent in this too; he’s caught in a tough spot."

Amelia sighed softly, "I know, which is why I don’t want to make things harder for him. I’m touched by how he treats me, and I’ve even considered reconciling, but Emma and the others will never agree."

"And then there’s Wendy Hart too. If she finds out that I’m reconciling with her brother, her health will probably deteriorate even further. Snow... what do you think I should do? I don’t want him to sacrifice his relationship with his family for me—that kind of love, wouldn’t it be too selfish? Besides, I’ve lived alone all these years. Now, men and romance, they’re not even embellishments to me, let alone necessities. Besides, we never truly reconciled, so there’s no such thing as gaining and losing, thus no real harm..."

Her words sounded indifferent, but her heart spoke another truth.

Separated by sound waves, Snow couldn’t see the desolation and sorrow in her gaze, assuming her fears of love sprang from past trauma, rendering her unable to love again.

Yet unbeknownst to Snow, the defenses and ice in Amelia’s heart had already begun to crumble.

"Whatever you decide, I’ll support you, as long as you’re happy and find fulfillment." Snow, who had shared a deep bond with Amelia for years, remained steadfastly by her side no matter the circumstances.

"Still... I do feel bad for Christopher now. People used to call him a scumbag, but after all, to err is human. He’s genuinely become someone worthy of trust, a good man to entrust your life to. It’s just such a shame..."

Amelia bitterly smiled. Yes, it was a shame: deep affection but shallow fate, unable to stay together.

After the call ended, a wheelchair slowly slid in front of her.

Handing over her phone, her expression was calm, "Snow said she’ll go back with us tomorrow. I plan to contact Shaw’s family and bring them over to care for her."

Christopher took her phone, his tone even, "Alright. Give me her family’s contact details, and I’ll let Lucas King handle it."

"No, it’s fine. It’d be too much trouble for you. I can manage this myself."

"Trouble? With everything that’s happened, do you think now is the time to nitpick over such things?"

"..." Amelia’s face turned awkward; she glanced at him but said nothing.

Indeed, she had already burdened him with much bigger matters. Trying to separate now would be hypocritical.

She even felt annoyed with herself.

Late at night, the two faced each other, their silence unknowingly tinged with intimacy.

Christopher sensed it too, his deep gaze lingering on her for a long moment before he slowly spoke, "Amelia, we..."

"Um—" She immediately interrupted him, clearly deliberate, "About the inheritance, I think you should take it back. That kind of ’kindness’... I really can’t accept it."

Christopher froze, his impenetrable eyes still fixed on her, though the light within them dimmed slightly: "I’ve told you before: anything I, Christopher Hart, give away—be it money or feelings—I’ll never take back."

Money, yes. Feelings...

Amelia stared at him, their eyes meeting. Suddenly realizing the hidden meaning behind his words, her heart raced before she hurriedly looked away, flustered. "But—"

"There’s no ’but.’ If you truly can’t stand it, just wait. When the children turn eighteen, give it all to them." His voice grew gloomier with this declaration.

His sharply defined features, already thinner from recent events, carried an imposing sense of authority. When his expression hardened, the overwhelming presence of his cold, unyielding demeanor was utterly intimidating.

For some reason, Amelia, watching him now, suddenly didn’t dare "provoke" any further. She bit her lip softly and lowered her eyes.

Seeing her look so pitifully aggrieved, Christopher felt a twinge of regret deep inside.

She had just been through a traumatic plane crash—he shouldn’t have snapped at her.

His fingers curled tightly for a moment before he forced himself to relax, deciding to let this go.

"It’s late. You’re planning to fly home tomorrow, so you should rest well and get some sleep tonight," he said, his tone gentler now.

Blinking slowly, Amelia avoided looking at him, her emotions swirling in turmoil.

From the moment she began "fearing" this man, she realized that her heart was no longer the icy fortress it had been for years.

To think she had told Snow she was indifferent, when really...

"Then leave." Realizing this, she desperately wanted to distance herself from him. Seizing on his suggestion, she hurried to align herself with it, climbing into bed while lifting the covers, decisively dismissing him.

Christopher hesitated for a moment, unmoving, his focus still trained on her.

"Christopher, our relationship isn’t at the point where we can share a bed. Must I spell it out in harsher terms?" Lying down with her back to him, her tone was cold and flat, devoid of inflection.

The man said nothing. Silently, he turned his wheelchair around and left.

Once the door closed, Amelia abruptly flipped herself over, lying flat as she gasped, staring up at the ceiling.

His sorrowful gaze lingered in her mind, strands of guilt weaving through her heart—frustrating her endlessly!

Why was he so fixated on her?

There were millions of women out there. Why cling to her? Couldn’t he find someone who his parents and sister liked, someone willing to fawn over him—wouldn’t that make everyone happy?