Marry My Billionaire Second Husband - Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Just Like Christmas Morning
Amelia’s mouth went dry, while Dimitri’s eyebrows went up to his hairline.

“Amelia?”

“Yes! It’s me. If I may, Mr. Hawthorne, why are you calling?” Amelia asked in trepidation.

“I want to invite you to come for the engagement party,” Horace said, and Amelia’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Next to her, Dimitri seemed equally stunned, the pen in his hand falling onto the table with a clatter.

So she had not imagined his words.

“Why?” The question emerged from Amelia’s lips instinctively. To say she was flabbergasted was a massive understatement. “You and your family have no reason to want me there.”

“Unless you mean to humiliate her,” Dimitri said, picking up the phone to growl into the receiver. “Mr. Hawthorne, I am Amelia Kentwood’s representative. Anything you say can and be used against you in court―”

Amelia hurriedly snatched the phone back from Dimitri, but the damage had already been done.

“Why did you say that?” she asked in a frenzied whisper.

Dimitri wasn’t even an actual practicing lawyer; according to Ronan, he was a CEO who studied law so he could learn to break it more effectively. She didn’t have a death wish, so of course she didn’t say that.

“…I will not do such a thing, I promise you,” Horace Hawthorne said after a long pause. “And I’m guessing I’m talking to young Dimitri, yes? It is nice to hear from you again.”

“Yes, you are. And what of your family?” Dimitri demanded.

“If it helps ease your mind, you and your brother are also welcome to join in the engagement party,” Horace Hawthorne offered. “Amelia, I hope you will attend. I have something I need to tell you in person. This is immensely important to me. You don’t have to worry about the attire or transport, I’ll provide everything for you. All you have to do is show up. Please. Please do me this favor.”

Amelia’s heart wavered. She couldn’t help but recall the desperate look in Horace Hawthorne’s eyes as he gazed at her, hoping to spend more time with her.

“I… I have to think about it,” Amelia confessed. “This is on very short notice.”

“As long as it’s not an outright rejection, I’ll hold on to hope for your arrival.” Horace Hawthorne’s relief was palpable from the other end. “I’ll have the outfits sent for you immediately. Thank you, Amelia, I hope to see you tomorrow.”

The line went dead.

“You’re not thinking of actually going, are you?” Dimitri demanded. “There’s no telling what they’ll do to you on their estate. On private property, any harm done to you might see no recompense.”

“I know,” Amelia said, biting her lip. She thought of Emmeline’s ruthlessness and her mother’s vindictiveness, weighed against Horace Hawthorne’s sincerity and his bloody past. Every rational thought was against her going.

But Matteo was going to be there. Her heart gave a painful lurch.

She would see him with Emmeline, and perhaps that was what she needed to put the last vestiges of affection to the ground. Her heart had shifted for Matteo, and her mind was quickly catching up and letting her know how foolish it was to fall for such a powerful man with a complicated background so quickly.

Was she anything more than an employee? A friend perhaps? Or just a charity project he had grown tired of taking care of?

After all, Matteo had not contacted her since she moved out of his house. There wasn’t even a simple message checking up on her well-being. She had sent him a few messages, but they went unanswered.

Clearly, he had thought that she was too much trouble than she was worth now that his engagement with Emmeline was all but set in stone.

“But I want to go anyway,” Amelia decided, a wan smile on her face. “Is that foolish of me?”

Dimitri shook his head in disapproval, sighing loudly. “If you are so intent on throwing yourself into the lion’s den, then take Ronan with you. He isn’t good for much, but he makes a fine enough bodyguard.”

“Thank you,” Amelia said sincerely, and Dimitri huffed, before putting that buttered piece of toast on her plate.

***

The outfits arrived, just as Horace Hawthorne claimed. Everyone crowded around the living room, staring down at the multiple boxes delivered by the courier.

“Do you think they planted a bomb inside it?” Ronan asked, staring inquisitively down at the boxes, only to be swatted by Dimitri. “Ouch! What on earth!”

“Do you ever use your brain before you speak?” Dimitri scolded. “Stop scaring the elderly!”

Michael Kentwood laughed, but he was not at ease. Amelia knew her father was worried.

“Sorry, Mr. Kentwood,” Ronan said sheepishly. “I’ll open it up then. If it’s a stink bomb or itching powder, I’ll raze the Hawthorne estate to the ground.”

Amelia held her breath as Ronan gingerly undid the ribbon of the biggest box and lifted up the lid, half-expecting a horde of cockroaches to burst out crawling out, but to her surprise, it was as Horace Hawthorne promised.

A swath of blue silk greeted her eyes. Ronan carefully lifted it up, revealing a beautiful blue gown. It was an off-shoulder gown with a fitted bodice and said bodice was adorned with intricate beadwork and delicate lace appliqués, creating a stunning contrast against the smooth silk.

Suddenly, Amelia recalled how Matteo had given her a dress to change into. She had not taken it with her when she moved out, leaving it to languish in the depths of Matteo’s cupboards.

Her heart gave a painful twinge. This dress did not pale in comparison to the one Matteo had chosen, but her heart couldn’t help but compare them both and find it lacking. However, her father didn’t seem to think so.

“Millie… you’ll look like a princess in this,” her father said, blinking back the sudden tears that formed in his eyes. “Do you wish to try it on?”

“I should,” Amelia said, and Ronan handed the dress to her, before eagerly diving into the rest of the parcels.

Now that he knew there was no unseen threat looming, he looked like a boy on Christmas day.

“Shoes! And perfume! And makeup! There’s even underwear―”