Marry My Billionaire Second Husband - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Hawthorne Heiress
Amelia flinched. Thank goodness the doors were fairly soundproof. Unless those outside had their ears plastered against the walls and doors, they shouldn’t be able to hear the conversation happening inside the office. Even if they did, it should be fairly muffled.

“Agreeing to marry the Hawthorne heiress?” Ronan repeated. He slapped a hand against his forehead, shaking his head so rapidly that a normal person would’ve gone dizzy. “Have you forgotten that you’ve already announced your engagement to Amelia?”

Ronan stormed over to where Amelia stood before Matteo could even put in a word. Without warning, he plucked Amelia’s hand up, displaying the giant dazzling diamond that now rested on her ring finger.

“You know, after you’ve already placed this fat rock on her finger and flashed it to the reporters?!”

“Calm down,” Matteo said, rolling his eyes. “You know exactly what I mean by that.”

“I―” Ronan cut himself short, biting down on his own tongue. Matteo’s words flitted through his mind, and he apologetically dropped Amelia’s hand after receiving a scathing glare from Matteo.

Amelia squinted. “This can’t still be about me pretending to be a Hawthorne, can it?” When replied with silence and pointed looks, Amelia panicked. “I can’t!”

“Amelia, how much do you know about your mother?” Ronan calmly asked. That question immediately stumped Amelia and she blinked dazedly.

“Not much,” she admitted. “She died when I was little. Whatever memories I have of her are fuzzy at best. Or they’re stories my dad told me.”

“Have you ever met the maternal side of your family?” Ronan continued to press. At that, Amelia frowned.

“What are you saying?” She wrinkled her nose. “That my mother is the Hawthorne heiress that Horace Hawthorne is searching for?”

“They are both called Elaine,” Ronan pointed out. “Not to mention, you look just like a Hawthorne. You even have their eyes!”

“This is crazy!” Amelia said, shaking her head. “My mother can’t possibly be the Horace Hawthorne’s daughter. That would make me―”

“His granddaughter,” Ronan finished. “The actual Hawthorne heiress. Matteo wouldn’t be lying to his father, in that case.”

“We have no proof,” Amelia said. “And my father doesn’t know anything about my mother’s history. If he did, he has never said anything to me for all these years.”

“If your mother and father fell in love, and the Hawthorne patriarch disapproved of this relationship, there would only be two options,” Ronan listed out. “A― she breaks things off with your father and marries someone of her family’s choosing. B― she breaks her ties with her family and elopes with your father.”

Amelia’s eyes grew wider and wider the more Ronan spoke.

“That would explain why she has something so valuable, despite your average family background,” he said matter-of-factly. “An authentic jade flute is not something she can afford to buy at a local mall.”

Amelia clenched her fists tightly into balls. Whatever he said made sense, but Amelia was afraid that it did. What would that mean for her? For her father? If she truly was the Hawthorne heiress, would Horace Hawthorne demand she break ties with her father to rejoin the Hawthornes?

As if reading her mind, Matteo sat up a little straighter. “You don’t have to worry about your father, Amelia,” Matteo assured.

“How could I not?” Amelia despaired. “If this is true, then that would mean that Horace Hawthorne hates my dad! If they had never eloped, my mother would’ve had the money to treat her illness. She would’ve been alive―”

Her words were cut off in a choked sob. With everything painted in this light, it would make her mother and father’s love for each other the villainous factor that killed her mother. Money wasn’t everything in life, but sometimes, that made the difference in keeping someone alive.

A tear dripped onto her cheek, snapping Amelia clean from her thoughts.

“I need to return to work,” Amelia said. She raised a hand to hastily swipe the tears that had fallen, sniffling. She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

It was a complicated thought― everything would be so different if she was actually a Hawthorne. Things wouldn’t have turned out so horridly with Caleb. Even if it did, it would be all too easy for her to serve him his just desserts, especially with the way he treated her even after their divorce.

The Hawthornes were powerful, more so than the Waltons. If she was one, she wouldn’t have to suffer like this.

But what about her dad? He was still lying in the hospital bed, recovering from his heart attack. Amelia feared how he would take the news if it was indeed true.

Without looking back, she rushed out of Matteo’s office. She needed a drink, and seeing as to how it was still in the middle of a workday, she would have to make do with a strong cup of coffee.

Matteo and Ronan watched as Amelia practically fled the room. The second the door shut behind her, Matteo turned and glared at Ronan.

“What?” Ronan asked. “She was bound to know. Better now than fumble at the engagement party that you will undoubtedly bring her to.”

“She has an invitation from Horace Hawthorne himself,” Matteo said with a sigh. He reached up and pinched the skin between his eyebrows. “If my calculations are right, then he should already be doing his own investigations after the hints we’ve left him. We will soon know if Amelia is indeed a Hawthorne.”

***

Whispers followed her wherever she went.

After all, Charles Montgomery’s visit to Matteo’s office hadn’t been in any bit low profile, and the employees on duty had all witnessed the encounter.

Amelia absentmindedly threw the coffee pod into the machine, leaning against the counter as she waited for it to brew. The smell of the coffee beans quickly permeated the air, and that alone was enough to calm her racing heart.

As she reached for the cup, Amelia suddenly paused. A series of clicking heels drew her attention, and when she turned to look out of the pantry, she saw a flash of blonde, pale skin, and a beautiful pink two-piece outfit.

The woman looked just like her mother.

Placing the coffee on the desk, Amelia raced out of the pantry. Her back was filled with cold sweat as she stared at the back view of the woman who marched straight for Matteo’s office.

That wasn’t her mother.

Judging by the research she had done herself, that had to be none other than Emmeline Hawthorne.