Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 361 The Death of Wendy Hart 4

Chapter 361: Chapter 361 The Death of Wendy Hart 4

Amelia Garcia was originally going to turn directly into her house and didn’t notice a white Maserati parked by the roadside.

It was when she passed by that the car suddenly honked at her.

Naturally, she had to slow down, turned her head to look, and then saw the passenger car door open. Wendy Hart, who was so thin she seemed to be able to dance in the cold wind, was waving and smiling at her.

She felt a sudden shock in her heart.

It wasn’t that she was afraid of Wendy Hart, but... she had said to Christopher Hart that they’d meet at Imperial Garden in a few days, yet now she was suddenly here — clearly trying to catch her off guard.

Amelia could clearly hear Little Jackson in her mind shouting excitedly and angrily: Look! I told you! How could this woman have genuinely repented! She must have a purpose! Ignore her! Ignore her!

Amelia thought the same.

Wendy Hart had clearly confused her brother, and suddenly coming to find her likely showed ill intentions.

She wasn’t planning to pay attention, but as she drove to leave, Wendy Hart, as if having understood her mind long ago, suddenly stepped forward.

She was so scared that her heart almost stopped, she hurriedly slammed on the brakes, causing her body to lurch forward violently.

The window rolled down, and Amelia Garcia, with a livid face, tried to appear calm: "What do you want? To die in front of my car and frame me again? Sorry, there are cameras on this road, and no one will believe you."

Wendy Hart was so thin that she was out of shape, her face haggard and yellowish, her hands gathered tightly around her thick cotton coat, standing in the cold winter evening, she said calmly and coolly: "I came... to apologize to you."

She said the words "apologize," but her face showed no sign of regret.

"Is that so? Then I accept it, now you can leave." Amelia Garcia was determined not to engage with her, and after saying this, she raised the car window, turned the steering wheel, and drove away, avoiding her.

But the place was only a few steps away from her house; Wendy Hart said goodbye to a friend with a luxury car, and the friend drove off as she unhurriedly walked toward her destination.

Amelia parked the car and saw through the car window Wendy Hart walking over, for some reason, her heart felt inexplicably anxious and nervous—as if a ghost was approaching her and the children.

Not daring to be careless, she immediately dialed Christopher Hart’s number.

"Amelia, have you changed your plan..."

"Christopher Hart! Wendy Hart is at my house! Hurry and come over!" Amelia Garcia interrupted him, speaking urgently with a tone exceptionally tense and sharp.

On the other end, Christopher Hart was already on his way to her house — he thought, since this little woman was unwilling to bring the children back to Imperial Garden, he would shamelessly come and stay for a night; after all, a family should not be separated.

Hearing Amelia Garcia’s voice, almost distorted with tension, his expression turned stern, his body instantly tensed, and he instructed, "Don’t argue with her, I’ll be there right away."

"Alright."

Originally, Amelia Garcia wanted to sit in the car, completely ignore Wendy Hart, not meet or engage with her, and wait for Christopher Hart to arrive before addressing the situation.

But before this thought settled, she saw from the villa’s entrance, Hope running out happily: "Mommy, you’re back!"

Upon seeing the child, Amelia Garcia’s face changed dramatically, immediately opening the car door, running forward to pick up her daughter — her hurried and swift demeanor as if Wendy Hart was a witch that devours children.

"Sweetheart, go inside quickly." She kissed her daughter, soothing her softly, but inside she was trembling with anxiety.

Aunt Harper just followed out behind, about to speak to Amelia Garcia when she caught sight of the girl walking toward them.

Upon a closer look, Aunt Harper was startled: "Ms. Hart, you’re... why are you here?"

With a gloomy face, Amelia Garcia handed Hope to Aunt Harper, instructed in a low voice: "Take Hope inside, take the kids upstairs to their rooms, and without my permission, they must not come down."

"Alright, alright, I understand." Aunt Harper nodded repeatedly, understanding something, and turned around with Hope in her arms.

Hope, lying on Aunt Harper’s shoulder, also saw Wendy Hart, couldn’t help but murmur: "It’s that bad auntie, such a scary bad auntie..."

Amelia Garcia knew she couldn’t avoid it, so she turned around, secretly adjusting her mood to face Wendy Hart: "What exactly do you want? I’ve already accepted your apology, can you leave now?"

Wendy Hart didn’t answer and just looked at her.

Seeing her more beautiful than before, with an air of intellectual elegance from head to toe, like those influential female executives on TV—dignified, poised, and superior—jealousy once again blossomed fervently in her heart.

"Did you already call my brother? He’s on his way, right?" After eyeing her, Wendy Hart’s face showed a smile again, softly and sweetly asking.

Amelia Garcia was equally blunt, "Since you already know, spare me the trouble and go back with your brother later."

"Amelia Garcia, am I really someone you fear? I’m a terminally ill person, panting even after a few steps, yet you’re lively, healthy—and I can still make you tremble with fear, how fun."

Amelia Garcia’s face was exceedingly cold, "Yes, I fear you because a venomous heart is unfathomable. And I am not just myself, I am also the mother of three children; I need to protect my children."

Mentioning the children inevitably sprinkled some nutrients on Wendy Hart’s flower of jealousy.

"Yes, you’re so fortunate, able to have three children, while I, in this lifetime... will never be loved, never become a mother, and now, even my life is being lost..." She murmured, her body slightly swaying.

Amelia Garcia couldn’t stand the aura of despair emanating from Wendy Hart, it wasn’t the weakness and helplessness of someone on the brink of death, more like a sinister aura exuding from within, making one shiver.

Not wanting to chat longer, she left a sentence: "You should go back; I have matters to attend to."

Turned to enter the house.

But since Wendy Hart came, how could she easily let it go?

"Hey! I haven’t finished speaking..." She immediately followed Amelia Garcia, trying to grab her.

Just reaching the steps, Amelia Garcia was grabbed by the arm.

The body instinctively rejected, when she turned, she impatiently slapped it away, "Wendy Hart, what do you... hey, you—"

In fury, she turned around, didn’t finish a sentence, and the figure in front of her stumbled backward, losing balance on the steps.

Human instinct drove Amelia Garcia to step forward quickly, trying to pull Wendy Hart back.

But it was too late, Wendy Hart weakly cried out, fell, and rolled down the steps.

Amelia Garcia was so scared her face turned pale, cold piercing to the bone.

Luckily, there were only three steps in front of the villa, she rolled for a round and landed.

"Sister Jones! Quickly!" Amelia Garcia snapped back, immediately calling for help, descending the stairs to crouch in front of Wendy Hart, wanting to support her, but afraid, panickingly asked, "Are you okay? I didn’t mean to... I’ll call an ambulance for you right away! Hold on!"

She was already weak, hanging by a thread, ready to ascend at any time, and this fall...

Amelia finally understood her purpose in looking for her, she probably wanted to die in front of her, making her uncomfortable for a lifetime!

No! She cannot let this witch’s scheme succeed!

With hands trembling slightly from nervousness, she immediately dialed 120.

Sister Jones heard and rushed out, Fuller following by her side.

"Oh! What happened here?" Seeing the scene, Sister Jones was clueless, not understanding the situation.

But Fuller realized everything, stepped forward immediately: "Ma’am, what do you need me to do?"

Amelia Garcia was still contacting 120, reporting the location, unable to reply to Fuller, Wendy Hart on the ground had already started convulsing, muttering "Cold, so cold..."

When life is at stake, Amelia Garcia couldn’t care about much else; she was on the phone with 120 while instructing Fuller: "Quick, carry her inside! The wind is strong outside."

Fuller responded, cautiously helping Wendy Hart sit up, "Ms. Hart, let me carry you inside; the ambulance will be here soon."

Wendy Hart clung to the cotton coat, eyes closed, without a word.

Amelia Garcia finished the call to 120 and hurried inside as well.

Wendy Hart was settled on the sofa.

"Did you come to find me with this intention?" Knowing well that it wasn’t the right time to argue with her, Amelia Garcia couldn’t help it.

She didn’t understand how someone could be that evil!

Was there such a deep-seated grudge between them? Did she have to disgust her like this!

"Wendy Hart, whether you believe it or not, I want to tell you, from the very beginning, I never thought about taking your brother away. I originally sympathized with you, wanting to take good care of you, to be the best of friends with you, but from the start, you saw me as an imaginary enemy, with the most malicious intention interpreting me—it’s you who drove yourself to this point!"

Sister Jones brought hot water over, glanced around, her face complex and tense: "Ma’am, please stop talking, let her drink some warm water to warm up, okay."

Amelia Garcia clung hard, her fingernails stabbing into her palm, her mind in a violent turmoil.

But seeing Wendy Hart struggling to breathe, scared she might die in front of her, she really couldn’t justify herself.

After a short struggle, she took the hot water from Sister Jones’s hand, sat on the sofa, "You, you drink some hot water, the ambulance will arrive soon, hold on!"

Please, don’t have an accident at my house!

Of course, this sentence she didn’t dare say, fearing it might irritate her more.

Wendy Hart didn’t even have the strength to hold the cup, had to sip water with Amelia Garcia’s help.

But for some reason, she couldn’t swallow a sip, choked, and started coughing violently.

Amelia Garcia instinctively dodged, as she coughed, she fell back onto the sofa.

Watching her tremble and convulse more and more violently, gasping for breath but seemingly suffocating, Amelia Garcia remembered she had severe asthma.

"Oh no, she’s having an attack!" The water spilled over herself, she didn’t bother with it, hurried over pulling at Wendy Hart’s coat, "The medicine! Where’s your medicine? Get it out! Quickly!"

Wendy Hart grabbed her hand.

It was cold, so cold it made Amelia Garcia’s heart shiver fiercely.

"My brother insisted I... apologize to you... he hates me, resented me... just an... apology... I can do it, Amelia Garcia... I’m sorry, back then falling into the sea, that was an accident... I firmly believed it was you, with Lily Garcia together... I’m sorry to you... but you, in this life, have a bargain... you’re more fortunate, much more than me—"

This moment, who cares about her apology?

Who dares accept such an apology?

Amelia Garcia was deaf to it, trying to shake off her hand to find the medicine, but her bone-thin hands, like eagle claws, clung to her wrist relentlessly.

"Let go! Medicine! Fuller, pull her hand away quickly!" Amelia Garcia was so anxious her voice broke.

Wendy Hart grinned grimly, "Don’t... don’t look for it, there’s, there’s no medicine..."

What?

Her coughing became more intense, her whole body curling up, convulsing like having an epileptic seizure.

Amelia Garcia froze for a second, ears buzzing, head spinning, moments later hurriedly reaching for the phone again.

120, where is it! How is it still not here!

"Wendy Hart, do you think dying in my house will get back at me? You are too naive! People like you, not worthy of death, I will not be guilty or self-blaming because of your death!" She deliberately said contrary words, trying to provoke her survival instinct.

Of course, perhaps, this was subconsciously her true thoughts!

The moment 120 dialed, a voice came from the door, and Christopher Hart hurriedly arrived.

"Amelia!" The bodyguard quickly pushed the wheelchair over, Amelia Garcia saw him, clutched as if a drowning person found a lifesaving straw, the phone fell, and she grasped him urgently, "Quick! Take her away to the hospital!"

"Okay, don’t worry, leave it to me." Despite the chaos, Christopher Hart’s tone remained steady, after appeasing Amelia Garcia, he turned to instruct Fuller, "Quickly carry her to my car."

"Yes!" Fuller bent down again, preparing to lift Wendy Hart.

But just as he supported her into a sitting position, probably because the abdominal pressure suddenly increased, Wendy Hart unexpectedly coughed violently, spewing blood!

"Ms. Hart!" Fuller was also shocked, dared not move her further, looking at Christopher Hart, "Sir... Ms. Hart probably cannot be moved."

Everyone was stunned into a stupor by the sight of Wendy Hart spitting blood.

Christopher Hart looked at Amelia Garcia’s state, seeing her face devoid of color, anxious and flustered, hated his lame legs even more.

— During the time when the woman he loved most needed comfort, he couldn’t stand by her side and hold her close.

"Brother..." After spitting blood, Wendy Hart seemed like her airway cleared, still faint, yet the convulsions and spasms lessened.

She struggled to tilt her head, looking toward her brother sitting beside the sofa, reaching out to him.

"Wendy!" Christopher Hart withdrew his gaze from Amelia Garcia, quickly moved forward a bit, holding his sister’s hand.

Wendy Hart turned her body, inadvertently, rolled off the sofa!

Christopher Hart saw this with his own eyes, his face aghast, instinctively wanted to catch her, but his paralytic legs were uncontrollable, in panic, he also fell off the wheelchair.

All those around watching were scared witless, instinctively reaching out, yet it was merely futile.

"Wendy! Pull yourself together! I’ll take you to the hospital right away!" Christopher Hart, regardless of his condition, cradled his sister’s upper body in his arms.

Wendy Hart’s mouth full of blood, her coat too shockingly stained, yet she clung to her brother’s shirt, leaning on his chest, a smile slowly appeared on her lips.

"Brother... I’m sorry, I’m sorry... it’s all my fault, it’s my mistake—I also apologized to the sister-in-law, but... she doesn’t seem... to appreciate it..."

Wendy Hart tried to lift her eyes, looking at Amelia Garcia standing petrified beside, an expression indescribably complex.

Amelia Garcia met her gaze, listening to her words, her heart already numb and rigid, bubbling again with hate.

Even at this moment, she’s sowing discord?

Christopher Hart already knew all this was his sister’s fault, also understood her sudden appearance here without keeping her word—yet what could he say when her life was already ebbing away?

Corners of his eyes crimson with unshed tears, he clasped his sister’s hand, his voice hoarse and low enough to break one’s heart: "Brother doesn’t blame you... pull through and be strong... let’s forget the past, I don’t blame you—we’re going to the hospital..."

"Brother... I’m so tired... it hurts so much, sorry... I’m leaving first... you, you, take good care of... father, mother... tell them... daughter, unfilial... caused them worry, a... a..." lifetime.

The last two words, no matter how she mouthed them, no sound came from her throat.

She slowly closed her eyes, the fingers clutching Christopher’s hand gradually relaxed, slipped away...

"Wendy..." Christopher Hart held her tightly, painfully calling out, tears blurring his eyes.