Chapter 224 Family United Against the Jerk Dad
The one waiting inside the Martinez mansion was Quentin.
When Amelia fell from the horse earlier that day, Quentin had been close enough to see it happen. His instinct urged him to walk over and check if she was hurt. But his pride stopped. He stayed where he was, jaw tight, pretending not to care.
After all, that morning he had stood in front of the entire class, with flowers in his hand, and a gift carefully chosen for her. She had not only refused to take the bouquet—claiming it blocked her desk—but had also tossed the necklace straight into the trash in front of everyone.
It left him with no shred of dignity.
Later he tried to spin it, saying the gift was on behalf of his grandfather, a token of thanks. But the school forum lit up with posts mocking the Williams family's golden boy for being publicly rejected. His name, his pride, dragged through the mud.
Rejected? Humiliated?
Quentin had stared at the screen, holding his phone so tightly that he nearly hurled it across the room. Girls had always chased him, flocking around him like moths to a flame. Only Amelia had met him with cold eyes from the very first meeting. Now she had gone further, stripping him of his public image.
But after returning from the riding arena to the classroom, he began to think differently. He had been curt with her for weeks, then abruptly switched to gifts and flowers. Of course she wouldn't accept them. It was too sudden.
Winning a girl's favor wasn't complicated—show her you care, shower her with attention, spend freely. Sooner or later, most would melt. Especially one from the countryside, unused to the glitter and excess of the city. The lure was stronger for someone like her.
And he wasn't just good-looking, he was the sole heir to the Williams family. Being with him meant becoming the future lady of the Williams estate.
He didn't believe she could stay cold forever if he decided to change his approach—patient, persistent, charming. Once she fell for him, he could treat her however he pleased. If she bored him, he would cast her aside without hesitation. That would be her payment for today's insult.
The decision crystallized in his mind.
Now was the perfect opportunity—she was injured. He could play the role of the concerned, gentle visitor. He started asking around which hospital Zander had taken her to.
He didn't have Amelia's number, nor Zander's. Only Robert's.
Years ago, when he had been involved with Rachel, Robert had been overly supportive. Every meeting came with exaggerated warmth. Once, during a dinner at the Martinez mansion, rain had trapped him there. Robert had suggested he stay the night, mentioning the guest room next to Rachel's. Quentin knew exactly what that meant—Robert was tacitly encouraging him to sleep with Rachel.
Quentin lost respect for him. It was too obvious—Robert wanted Rachel to marry into the Williams family, to elevate the Martinez name.
Quentin had declined. Not because he respected Rachel, but because he and she already met at hotels on weekends. Doing that under her family's roof felt uncomfortable.
He called Robert now, asking which hospital Amelia was in. To his surprise, Robert didn't even know his own daughter had been injured.
Minutes later Robert called back—Amelia had already finished at the hospital and was heading home. He invited Quentin to come wait at the mansion.
Quentin arrived with expensive health supplements.
On the living room sofa, Robert wore a smile that was almost too wide. "Quentin, you heard Amelia was hurt and came straight here. You must be close."
Hearing Quentin ask after Amelia had set Robert's mind racing. He had assumed that after Rachel left, any chance of a Williams–Martinez marriage had died. Now Amelia seemed to have caught Quentin's attention.
He was already plotting—give them time together, let something grow. If Amelia could marry into the Williams family, then bringing her back from the countryside, despite the scandal, would have been worth it.
"Close isn't the word," Quentin said, shaking his head. "I want to get along with Amelia. My grandfather likes her, but in class she treats me badly."
"Mr. Martinez, you don't know—this morning I gave her flowers and a ruby necklace worth tens of thousands, brought in from overseas. She wouldn't even look at the flowers, and she threw the necklace straight into the trash. No girl has ever treated me like that."
His voice carried a wounded edge.
"What?!" Robert's eyes went wide. "It's one thing to refuse flowers, but to throw away the necklace? Has she lost her mind?"
His breathing quickened. A necklace worth that much, tossed without a thought—what kind of reckless behavior was that? And to offend Quentin on top of it.
Amelia, he thought, was exactly what people expected from someone raised in the countryside—no manners.
Seeing Robert's anger, Quentin pressed on. "Now the whole school says I confessed and she rejected me in front of everyone. I look like a fool."
"Mr. Martinez, you know—given my looks and my family's name, girls chase me. But she—"
"You don't need to say it," Robert cut in, voice sharp. "This is entirely Amelia's fault. She doesn't know what's good for her."
"If you like her, that's one thing. But for her to treat you this way? I think she's been in River City a few times and now believes she's someone important."
"Don't worry, Quentin. I'll handle this. When she gets back, I'll teach her a lesson."
"Dad... who exactly are you planning to teach?"
The voice came from behind him, edged with anger.
Robert turned instinctively. Amelia sat in her wheelchair, her arm in a cast, her expression calm. Beside her stood his wife and all five of his sons.
What made his stomach twist was that Amelia's face was the only one without hostility. His wife's glare was sharp enough to cut. His eldest son's expression was dark. The second's eyes were cold. The third stood like stone, unreadable.
The youngest twins were another matter—one silent, his expression shadowed; the other locked on Quentin with a look that promised violence. His jaw was tight, his teeth grinding, as if one more word would send him lunging across the room.
Robert shot to his feet, voice faltering. "You... all came back together? I thought only Zander took her to the hospital."