Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 456: What kind of big sister is she to you?!

Chapter 456: Chapter 456: What kind of big sister is she to you?!

"Alright, this small amount of money is not a problem."

The money issue was suddenly resolved, which lifted Amelia’s spirits. "I’m driving right now, so I won’t talk much. Remember to arrange for someone to contact Chairman Smith’s secretary and try to persuade them to invest. I’ll be busy now, but if I have time this afternoon, I’ll pick up the kids and visit you at the hospital."

Thinking of those three little ingrates, Christopher sullenly said, "You coming alone is fine, forget about bringing those three..."

Amelia instantly got it and chuckled, "What’s wrong? There are no overnight grudges between a father and his sons; are you holding a grudge with little kids?"

"Of course not! But..." Thinking about what happened yesterday, Christopher felt a pang of sorrow and exclaimed, "You, as their mother, should educate your daughter properly. Teach her some restraint, will you? Look at her, with that face that screams ’cheap,’ she’ll definitely be easily whisked away by some silly boy in the future!"

"Oh, my daughter? Isn’t she your daughter too? You raised her single-handedly, and if she’s not well-educated, of course, it’s your responsibility."

"But now that you’re back, she only listens to you. Shouldn’t you be educating her?"

"You can’t dump it all on me. Three kids—you want to tire me out?"

"I’m not saying I won’t be involved! I’m just saying you should manage the daughter more since moms communicate more easily."

"And there’s that saying that daughters are the little sweethearts of their dads from a past life. Can’t you communicate with your little sweetheart?"

"I can’t even handle my legitimate wife right now, where would I find the energy to deal with a little sweetheart?"

"Bah, get lost!"

The two of them bickered over the phone, passing the blame back and forth, dissing each other, and chatted for nearly half an hour until Amelia’s mouth went dry.

As she was nearing the prison, Jacob called.

Only then did Amelia end her chat with Christopher and took the call.

"Hello, Jacob."

"Sis, have you arrived? We’ve sorted everything out and are ready to set off."

"I’m here, almost there."

After hanging up, Amelia picked up the pace.

Soon, the navigation indicated that she had reached her destination.

Glancing out the car window, she indeed saw Jacob supporting an elderly, slightly hunched figure at the prison gate.

Amelia parked the car and walked towards them.

From the time Michael Garcia was imprisoned until now, she had never come to visit, not even during the New Year.

It hadn’t been that long, yet Michael had aged as if several years had passed.

His hair was gray, his face lined with wrinkles, his skin dark and sallow, and he had grown thinner, his back bent and drooping.

It seems that life in jail doing hard labor had not been easy.

Seeing Amelia, Michael did not offer a warm reception or even a greeting, coldly glancing away.

Jacob looked awkward, smiled, and said, "Sis, I called a car, you can follow us."

Amelia was surprised, "You’re not riding in my car?"

Jacob looked at her massive, imposing Lincoln Presidential, knowing it was Christopher’s expensive car, and shook his head, "No need, my car has arrived."

He nodded towards the road, and Amelia noticed a private car parked roadside, apparently a ride-share.

"If you don’t need me to pick you up, why did you ask me to come to the prison? I could’ve just gone to the hospital." Amelia muttered.

Jacob chuckled, "I was originally worried that the paperwork for medical parole would be too complicated for me to handle, so I thought it’d be safer for you to come, but it turned out signing was all it took, very simple."

"Alright, let’s get going." Amelia, not wanting to fuss over trivial matters, being completely uninterested, threw the words over her shoulder and turned back to her car.

Jacob supported Michael, "Dad, let’s get in the car too."

Michael followed his son towards the ride-share car, asking in a not so friendly tone, "How did you get so familiar with her?"

"She’s my big sister, who else would I be close to? With you all in prison, she’s my only family left." Jacob said matter-of-factly.

"Hah," Michael scoffed feebly, getting into the car, "What kind of ’big sister’ is she to you..."

Jacob was still outside the car and didn’t hear the comment clearly. As he leaned in, he asked, "What did you just say?"

"Nothing, I’m tired. Let me sleep for a bit. Order me something good to eat at noon." Michael instructed and closed his eyes as if ready to sleep.

Looking at his father’s indifferent attitude, Jacob felt helpless, checked the car behind to see Amelia’s car following, and only then turned back at ease.

At the hospital, Jacob took care of Michael while Amelia went up and down arranging the hospitalization paperwork.

By almost noon, everything was finally set, and they went to the ward.

Upon entering, Michael was immediately displeased, "Why is it a triple room? With so many people coming and going, how am I supposed to recuperate? How can I sleep?"

Jacob responded, "Ordinary wards are triple rooms. You were lucky to catch an available spot thanks to someone being discharged; otherwise, you’d be staying in the hallway."

Michael couldn’t accept it, "I want a single room."

Jacob emphasized, "Dad! Things are different now. Do you think we’re still the old Garcia Family? Let me tell you, I have no money to treat your illness. It was big sis who sold her car to gather enough money for your treatment, so stop being so picky."

Amelia walked over with a stack of documents, seeing the father and son blocking the doorway, and curiously asked, "What’s going on? Is there another issue?"

Jacob forced a smile, "Nothing... we’re just going in now." Then he forcibly pulled Michael, "Dad, let’s move."

Michael was reluctant but had no choice, being dragged by his son into the triple room.

Lying down, he instructed his son, "Pull the curtain closed."

Jacob immediately went to pull the curtain between the beds, creating some privacy from the neighboring patients.

Watching, Amelia understood.

Heh, it’s ridiculous; he stayed in prison, and now on medical parole, he still dreams of enjoying life?

Unable to hold it in, she walked over and mocked, "The Garcia Family is long bankrupt, deeply in debt. Your son now lives in a company dormitory, cramped with a bunch of young folks in bunk beds. This triple room is pretty good conditions."

Michael half-lay there, listening to her talk, glanced coldly at her, "Isn’t the Garcia Family’s bankruptcy thanks to you and your mother, never wishing me well?"

It would have been better if he hadn’t said it. As he spoke, Amelia’s rage ignited.

"My mother never wished you well? Spoken like you’ve ever treated her kindly! As if I don’t know that all you ever wanted was my grandparents’ inheritance!"

"You think you know everything?" Michael lazily reclined, hearing this, slightly turned to look at her, a rather playful expression on his face, "There’s much you don’t know, including your mother’s true nature and even yourself..."

Michael got more agitated the more he spoke, but abruptly stopped halfway, pursing his lips in silence.

Amelia stared at him, "Speak! What about my mom? She’s been gone for years, and you’re still slandering her. My mom was blind to ever..."

Comparing Thomas Smith to the figure of the sleazy middle-aged man before her, Amelia felt a deep sorrow for her mother.