Marry My Billionaire Second Husband - Chapter 195

Chapter 195: There Needs to be Consequences
“Dad…” Amelia tugged at her father’s arm, willing him to sit back down. He shouldn’t be on his feet for long. “Grandpa, sit down, please. Both of you. There’s no need for us to yell at each other like this. Both of you have poor hearts; do you want to be hospitalized during my wedding?”

The two men continued to glare hotly at each other before slowly returning to their seats with great reluctance. Horace had to support himself with his cane, for Amelia’s main focus was on helping her father.

And why wouldn’t she? Her father was the one who had been with her all her life, while Horace had only known her mere months ago.

He would have known of her earlier, but Michael had kept her existence a secret because Horace had let his daughter go. He also hadn’t looked for her as hard as he possibly could since he was busy handling the business and the remaining members of his family, thinking that his daughter would come crawling back when she was done playing house―

Horace Hawthorne sucked in a trembling breath. His daughter had won in the end when it came to stubbornness. The proof was sitting right in front of him, in the form of her beloved daughter and husband. His heart ached.

“You know I’m right, Millie,” her father whispered determinedly in her ear, wanting to get the last word. “That woman tried to kill you and she’s still walking around like she owns the place!”

“Yes, Dad, I know.” Amelia nodded helplessly. “But she didn’t succeed― I’m still alive and kicking! Matteo and I will keep each other safe. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“The day I stop worrying about you is the day I will meet your mother in heaven when this heart of mine gives up,” her father scoffed frankly, shooting Horace Hawthorne a dark look from the corner of his eyes.

Horace hid his face behind a teacup as he took a drag of hot tea; Emmeline’s presence was a sore point he could not refute.

After the death of his daughter, he simply couldn’t bear the thought of treating his granddaughter too harshly for fear of repeating past mistakes.

“Nonsense, Dad, you still have to live a long happy life,” Amelia tutted in disapproval. She glanced at her grandfather. “You too, Grandpa. I understand that the both of you have a lot of… tension with each other, but I hope that you can at least try to be civil for my sake?”

“…Fine.” Both men mumbled reluctantly and stared at the plates of food like they wished they could incinerate it with their eyes.

“Good,” Amelia said and decided to jump back into wedding planning. Cherry was her maid of honor, and Daniella was to be her bridesmaid. She wanted younger orphans from the orphanage to be her flower girls and boys, while Carlo and the teens were guests.

Carlo heaved a sigh of relief. He only wanted to eat.

“Will people insult you for this?” Michael Kentwood asked worriedly as he heard her plans.

“Those people who want to insult me will do so even if I get their own kids to take over this role.” Amelia shrugged. “As long as they’re not bullying the children or making life difficult for them, I see no problem with this arrangement.”

The discussion flowed easily enough despite the slight tension that hovered in the background. Food choices were shortlisted, music choices were curated, and Carlo felt his heart rate returning to normal until Michael Kentwood raised a question during the issue of sitting arrangements.

The bride’s family were meant to be sitting at the same table. There was only one Kentwood at the table, the rest of the party would be filled with the immediate Hawthornes. Including one very persistent cousin.

“You’re inviting Emmeline to your wedding?” Michael squawked. “She’s sitting with us?!”

“Dad, of course she’ll be there. She’s my cousin! We can’t not invite her. That’s too blatant a snub.”

“Millie, that’s ridiculous―” Michael Kentwood threw his arms into the air, and winced in pain as that action strained his ribs. “Ouch…”

“It’s not,” Horace spoke out gravely. “I want her there.”

“Your favoritism is―”

“She has to be here― to see Amelia wed Matteo. Only then will she finally give up on her childish dream of pursuing him for good,” Horace insisted. “She needs to see it with her own eyes!”

Michael gave him an incredulous look. “Mr. Hawthorne, I think you need to go see a neurologist. Early onset dementia may be your undoing.”

“Dad!” Amelia scolded him quickly, while Horace’s face purpled at the insult.

“What? Am I wrong? Are you not worried that this woman will stand up and object to your wedding?” Michael demanded. “This is the woman that, according to Dimitri, most likely leaked her own nudes to trap Matteo into a marriage. She also tried to kill you! If she doesn’t make a fuss at your wedding, I’ll carve out my own ribs for you to use as utensils.”

“Emmeline will do no such thing,” Horace barked out, thumping his cane loudly on the ground. “I’ve already made things exceedingly clear― if she fails to marry Aiden, she will lose all her inheritance.”

“Yeah, Dad, Emmeline loves Matteo, but she also loves her status and money,” Amelia added. “She won’t make trouble at the wedding.”

Michael Kentwood settled back down, slightly mollified. “I’m telling you now if she shows up wearing white to your wedding, I’ll be pouring my wine on her, no questions asked.”

“Fair enough,” Amelia said agreeably. “No one will fault you for that.”

“But what happens after? How can you be sure she won’t chase after Matteo after she’s married? Did you threaten to disown her if she does that?” The last question was directed to Horace Hawthorne.

“Have more faith in me, Dad,” Amelia said, pretending to flex her tiny arm muscles. “If she tries anything, I’ll take care of it. Besides, Matteo will never return to her side, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Weeks from now, as Amelia stared down a broken wedding cake, she could only smack herself for jinxing herself.

Famous last words.