Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 89: The Biological Son Is Right Before His Eyes Yet He Is Driven Away

Chapter 89: Chapter 89: The Biological Son Is Right Before His Eyes Yet He Is Driven Away

What to do, what to do?

It’s already too late to take Noah away now!

She instinctively looked towards the hospital bed and locked eyes with the little boy.

The little guy had obviously heard the noise outside the door too, his handsome and delicate little face was clearly anxious.

Luckily, Noah reacted very quickly and told his sister "I urgently need to pee," before immediately diving into the bathroom.

Meanwhile, the room door opened, and Christopher Hart came in.

Seeing Snow Fitch, the man sneered, "What has my daughter done to earn Miss Fitch’s concern? Or did someone else not bother coming, sending you as a spy instead?"

Snow Fitch’s heart was pounding with panic, but she had to feign calm on the surface, smiling and saying, "You’re overthinking it, I’ve always treated Hope as my goddaughter. Since she’s ill and in hospital, it’s only natural for me to come and see her."

"Hmph!" The man snorted coldly, and walked towards the bathroom, rolling up his sleeves as if he was going to wash his hands.

Snow Fitch’s heart leapt into her throat!

And Noah, hiding in the bathroom, heard footsteps approaching and desperately looked around, panicked.

The doorknob turned, and he stood behind the door, staring intensely as it rotated halfway and then got stuck, his little heart in his mouth.

What to do?

Was he about to be discovered by this man?

Would he be able to see through something, suspecting his identity?

Would he take him away from his mother?

The little guy was so anxious that he was about to burst into tears, and acting on instinct, he rushed forward to grasp the doorknob, his small body bracing against the door.

Outside, Christopher Hart met resistance as he tried to open the door, and turned around curiously asking, "Who’s in there? Why is the door still locked?"

Snow Fitch hurriedly stepped forward, "My nephew, he’s feeling a bit unwell, so I brought him to see a doctor. I remembered Hope was hospitalized, so I came to visit her."

She explained with a smile, and squeezed past Christopher Hart to the door, knocking on it: "Noah? Are you okay now? Come out if you are."

Christopher Hart listened to her explanation, and involuntarily an image of the kid making faces popped into his mind, his face instantly darkening with displeasure.

"You bring your sick nephew to visit Hope? Are you trying to infect her?"

Snow Fitch was taken aback, instinctively retorted: "He just has an upset stomach, it’s not a cough or a cold, how could he infect her?"

"Can you be one hundred percent certain it’s not contagious? Hope has a weak constitution and poor immunity, you should know that!" Christopher Hart was thoroughly annoyed, and before she could explain, he dismissed her disdainfully, "Get going! Take him away!"

While they were arguing, the bathroom door unlocked, and the little boy squeezed out.

Snow Fitch, looking furious, pulled Noah over to protect him in her arms, glaring at the man: "Can’t you be less harsh? You’re scaring the child!"

"Heh! Such a brat, easily scared?"

Snow Fitch saw that he glanced at Noah but didn’t pay much attention, feeling a secret joy inside, yet verbally she didn’t back down: "Can’t you say something nice for once? You’re a father too; stop attacking a child!"

Noah’s face was forced against Snow Fitch’s chest, listening to his real father speak about him that way, his little fists clenched in dissatisfaction.

He’s calling him a brat? He’s a Scumbag Father himself!

Alas, he could only swear in his heart.

"Telling it as it is," Christopher Hart dropped coldly, turning and entering the bathroom to wash his hands.

"Hope, we’re leaving, we’ll come to see you again after your surgery, okay?" Snow Fitch turned towards the bed, her expression softening with a tender smile.

The little girl smiled sweetly back, "Goodbye Aunt Snow Fitch, goodbye brother."

Although Noah was reluctant, he dared not linger any longer and waved to Hope before turning to leave with Snow Fitch.

Christopher Hart came out, without seeing them, his expression lightened slightly.

Walking to his daughter’s bedside, something suddenly struck him, and he turned to Aunt Harper, "That little boy... isn’t he the same one who took away Hope last time?"

Aunt Harper was a bit bewildered and nervous, "Last time... I, I didn’t see the face, just a figure from behind."

"Does the figure look similar?"

Aunt Harper thought for a moment, "...if you talk about height and build, it’s quite similar."

In fact, Aunt Harper wanted to say that looking at the features of the kid, he somehow resembled the gentleman.

But seeing how much the gentleman despised the little boy, she dared not utter those words.

Christopher Hart pondered Aunt Harper’s words, turned his head towards the door, his gaze deep and thoughtful.

If so, Hope’s disappearance a few days ago could hardly be unrelated to Snow Fitch.

It’s highly likely she sent her nephew as bait on purpose, to lure the daughter away.

Then that foreigner waiting in a secluded place would be ready to abduct the child without anyone noticing.

But the question is, when did the brat get to know his daughter so well.

He turned back and sat down by the hospital bed, looking at his daughter tenderly and asking, "Sweetheart, do you know that little brother who was just here?"

Hope stared with her round, rolling eyes, silently and dumbly looking at her father.

He softened further, "If you like playing with that little brother, we can invite him over next time."

Old ginger is spicier.

At that sentence, the little girl was immediately tricked.

"Really?"

"Of course!"

Seeing the eager anticipation in his daughter’s eyes, Christopher Hart was even more convinced that they’d been in touch for a while, so he asked further, "When did you meet that little brother?"

"It was just..." The little girl was about to blurt out when she suddenly remembered the little brother admonishing her again and again—not to tell daddy—and then hesitated.

"When was it? Tell daddy..."

"I can’t say..."

"Why?"

She pouted, "Daddy, you were so mean to the little brother just now."

"..." Christopher Hart was speechless for a moment, then coaxed, "Daddy won’t be mean anymore."

"Um... we’ve met at the shopping mall and in the hospital."

Met in the hospital?

He immediately pressed, "The little brother who took you away from the hospital last time, it was him, wasn’t it?"

The little girl hung her head low, glanced up at her father with her big eyes, then quietly nodded.

Alright, that’s enough information!

Christopher Hart stood up and ruffled his daughter’s hair, "Get some sleep, sweetheart. Daddy will go see what we’ve prepared for your lunch."

After leaving the sickroom, Christopher Hart called Fuller over.

"That little boy, no need to check, he’s Snow Fitch’s nephew, just a brat."

Fuller nodded and then asked, "What if Miss Fitch brings that kid over to play again?"

Christopher Hart glanced at him, obviously feeling the question was unnecessary; of course, they couldn’t!

However, on second thought, his daughter had been weak and sickly over the years, she hadn’t gone to preschool nor had she gone out to play much.

Now four years old, she only had Oliver as a playmate—it was rather pitiful.

It was rare to see her make a new friend and to be so happy. If he were to nip that in the bud...

"Forget it, if they come again, you keep a close watch. They must not leave your sight, and report to me immediately if anything happens."

"Yes, I understand," responded Fuller.