Chapter 107
“Mr. Landon, Mrs. Gloria asked me to bring you some coffee.” The butler bowed respectfully, setting the coffee on the table under the tree before retreating.
It was a warm afternoon in early summer. Amelia felt parched and reached for the coffee.
“Don’t drink it,” Landon called out abruptly.
Amelia was startled. She whispered, “Is the coffee…” She exclaimed inwardly, ‘Something’s wrong with the coffee.’ She quickly placed the coffee back on the tray.
“The butler lied. This coffee didn’t come from my mom,” Landon said. “Besides, I don’t drink coffee often.”
Amelia was furious. “This is his home. And Patrick dares to…”
“His whole family dares,” Landon snorted, his sharp features hardening. “I doubt today’s birthday party will be as simple as it seems.”
A chill ran down Amelia’s spine. She gasped, then pushed Landon’s wheelchair. “Then let’s leave right now–”
“No.” Landon’s tone was firm. “We can’t spend our lives running from them.”
“But you’re still…” Amelia glanced at Landon with concern. She thought, ‘His bruises haven’t faded yet. I’m not sure he’s ready for another fight. Patrick is no ordinary opponent. He is a sadistic mastermind—strong, cunning, and utterly ruthless. If only Landon’s legs were better, he’d handle Patrick easily.’
Landon’s expression softened. He smiled, “With you by my side, there’s nothing to fear.”
Amelia bit her lip. “What can I do? I’m not good at anything.” She could muddle through when managing a company, but she felt utterly helpless in situations like this.
“You don’t need to do anything. Just stay close to me,” Landon said, gently rubbing Amelia’s hand. “No matter what happens, don’t leave my sight.”
To Landon, Amelia wasn’t just his secret weapon–she was also his Achilles’ heel.
“Landon’s here?” Just then, Patrick interrupted them. He was dressed to the nines as usual, exuding charm and confidence.
But in Amelia’s eyes, Patrick was nothing more than a well-dressed beast.
“Amelia is here, too?” Patrick’s gaze slowly landed on Amelia, filled with an unsettling interest.
Amelia had deliberately avoided wearing the new dress she’d bought yesterday–because Landon wouldn’t let her. He’d even said that dress was for his eyes only.
Amelia still remembered the fiery way Landon had looked at her this morning. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Amelia felt grateful for today’s conservative outfit.
“Of course, I came. Who else would stand up for my husband if people started picking on him again?” Amelia retorted sharply.
Amelia still held a grudge over yesterday’s events, which only seemed to please Landon.
“You two make quite the team,” Patrick said, clapping his hands in mock admiration, his smile insincere. He thought, ‘Who’s really being picked on here? Look at my bruises. I’m the one who’s worse off.’
“If you’re jealous, Patrick, maybe it’s time you found yourself a wife. Cynthia would love to have a grandchild,” Landon drawled leisurely.
Sunlight filtered through the swaying branches, casting fleeting shadows across Landon’s face. His expression, illuminated in patches, was unreadable.
“I’m in no rush,” Patrick replied. “But you two should hurry and have kids. Unless…” He deliberately let his voice trail off, his tone dripping with implication. “After being bedridden for months, perhaps you’re not up to the task anymore?”
Patrick directed the jab at Landon, but his eyes flickered toward Amelia.
Amelia was furious. Without thinking, she snapped, “My husband is more than capable.”
Patrick was speechless.
Landon’s smirk deepened, amusement flickering in his eyes. He thought, ‘My wife is amazing—so determined to defend me. She doesn’t even care about appearances.’
“Patrick, Camila is here,” Landon said, gesturing to the left.
Patrick’s face stiffened for a moment.
Amelia suddenly remembered Aaron saying that Patrick even messed around with his cousin. Her curiosity piqued, and she eagerly looked in the direction Landon had pointed.
A woman in her thirties approached, carrying a chubby toddler who looked about two or three years old. Her face was round and her chest flat. Worse, she had neither beauty nor poise.
Disappointed, Amelia quickly lost interest. She thought, ‘Clearly, Patrick is just pursuing the excitement of incest. What a pervert!’
When Patrick saw Camila, he immediately turned around and tried to leave.
But Camila called out to him, “Patrick.”
Patrick had no choice but to stop, forcing a fake smile. “Hello, Camila.”
“Hold the kid for me for a minute.” Camila thrust her chubby little one into Patrick’s arms.
Patrick winced at the weight—his fractured ribs weren’t up for it. He let out a muffled grunt and grimaced in pain.
“Patrick, I wanna ride the horse.” The little one clung to Patrick’s neck, kicking his legs as he tried to climb up to Patrick’s shoulders. With every kick, Patrick’s face turned paler.
Seeing her son struggling, Camila helped him climb onto Patrick’s shoulders.
“Riding the horse. Giddy-up.” The little one gleefully flailed his arms while Patrick suffered even more.
Unable to take it anymore, Patrick yanked the toddler off his shoulders and bolted away.
“Mom, Patrick refused to play with me…” The little one pouted and was on the verge of tears.
Camila, fuming, scooped her kid up and chased after Patrick.
Amelia couldn’t hold it in anymore, laughing until she bent over. “Honey, it looks like he’s hurt worse than you.”
Landon chuckled, too. “His ribs are broken. And I invited Camila here.”
Amelia burst out laughing even harder, clutching her stomach. She had assumed Camila was the victim, but it turned out Camila was a force to be reckoned with.
Now, Amelia was genuinely curious. She thought, ‘What’s the relationship between Patrick and Camila? Why is he so scared of her?’
“Amelia, come in,” Donna called out from the living room.
Amelia and Landon exchanged a glance, realizing something had gone off. They had spent the whole day shopping for clothes yesterday and completely forgot to buy a gift for Donna.
Given Donna’s disdain for Gloria and her family, Donna would surely make a big deal out of this.
“What should we do? No gift,” Amelia whispered.
Landon thought for a moment before replying, “Just me waking up is the best gift.”
Amelia was speechless. She thought, ‘Mr. Kingsley, you sure have a high opinion of yourself.’
Nevertheless, Amelia pushed Landon into the living room.
Elaine was also there, dressed in the pink lace dress she had bought yesterday and a small diamond crown, looking gorgeous and eye-catching.
“Grandma, I’m awake.” Landon sat in his wheelchair and looked at Donna calmly.
“Really?” Donna exclaimed, her face lighting up as she hurried toward Landon.
Clearly, no one from Henry’s side had told Donna that Landon had regained consciousness.
“Grandma, are you happy?” Landon asked.
“I am so happy. You waking up means hope for the Kingsleys.” Donna grasped Landon’s hand, tears streaming down her face from sheer emotion. “Your waking up is the best birthday gift I could have received today.”
Amelia let out a relieved sigh. It seemed that Landon still held some sway with Donna—she had only given up on Landon because of his long coma. Amelia thought, ‘From Donna’s reaction, there is no way she’d let anything happen to Landon here, right?’