Chapter 147: Chapter 147

Maxwell

Days after Amelia was forced out of the house, Camilla insisted that we move back in immediately. I didn't agree with the idea at first, but she refused to let it go. In the end, I gave in, and we moved into the house with the children, even though my parents strongly objected. They believed everything had happened too quickly and that it wasn't the right thing to do, but their opinions didn't change Camilla's mind.

After we settled in, I asked my lawyers to reach out to Amelia on my behalf.

I told them to let her know that I was willing to compensate her for losing the house. If she wanted cash, I would pay her enough to buy another house. If she preferred, she could choose any house she liked, anywhere she wanted, and I would purchase it for her.

I wasn't doing it because I owed her anything. Legally, the house was never hers. It belonged to my late wife, the real Amelia not this fake Amelia. I had only allowed her to stay there because I believed it was the right thing to do at the time.

A day later, my lawyers came back with her response. She had rejected the offer completely. According to them, she said I could go to hell.

I shook my head in disbelief. She was behaving as though she had a permanent right to that house. She didn't. I had already done more than enough by letting her live there all those years. Offering to buy her another house was more generosity than obligation.

"Babe, I was thinking we could go on another vacation," Camilla said.

I looked up from the documents spread across my desk. She was sitting comfortably on the couch inside my office while I worked.

She had insisted on coming with me again today. I had told her to stay home and rest because her morning sickness had become worse over the past few weeks. Some mornings she could barely keep any food down, and I didn't like the idea of leaving her alone. Because of that, I had worked from home for several days so I could keep an eye on her.

Now that I was back at the office, she refused to stay behind. She insisted on coming with me instead, saying that if I was going to spend the whole day working, then she would spend the day with me.

She got up from the couch and walked over to my desk with her phone in her hand.

"Babe, look at these locations. They are so beautiful." She placed the phone in front of me. "Can we go there for our honeymoon?" she asked.

I looked at her. For the past few weeks, she had been bringing up marriage every chance she got. She wanted to finalize the wedding plans as soon as possible.

Just last week, her mother came to visit. The first thing she asked was whether we planned to have the wedding before the end of the year. It was already November. The truth was, I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment.

We were already engaged. We lived under the same roof, and we were expecting a baby together. In my mind, there wasn't any rush to have a wedding immediately.

"Can't we talk about this later?" I asked, trying to keep my attention on the documents in front of me. "I'm busy with work, as you can see. I haven't been able to get much done these past few days because I have been taking care of you."

The irritation in my voice was obvious. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted her to come to the office with me in the first place. I knew I wouldn't be able to focus. She stared at me, hurt flashing across her face.

"You make taking care of your pregnant wife sound like it's such a burden," she said quietly. "I'm carrying your baby. I didn't put it there by myself, and you said you wanted this baby too."

I closed my eyes for a brief moment and let out a slow breath. How had such a simple conversation turned into this? I could already feel my patience wearing thin. If this continued, I knew I would eventually say something I couldn't take back.

"I'm not complaining about taking care of you," I said, forcing myself to stay calm. "I just need to work. How many times do I have to say it? You don't have to be around me every minute of the day. I'm a grown man. I can handle myself."

I paused before adding the part I had been avoiding. "And whatever happened back then when you saved me, I have moved past it. I appreciate what you did, but I need my privacy."

She stared at me for a few seconds without saying a word. Then she pulled her phone back from my hand and turned away. She walked back to the couch, picked up her handbag, and slung it over her shoulder.

I quietly let out a breath of relief, thinking the argument was finally over.

"Fine," she said. "I will go home and be the good housewife you want me to be. And I'll stop suffocating you with my love."

Without waiting for my response, she turned and started walking toward the office door.

I didn't say anything. If she wanted to leave because she was angry, then she could leave. We could deal with the argument when I got home. Right now, I just wanted some peace and privacy so I could finish my work.

She stopped at the door and slowly turned to face me. "You are not going to stop me and ask me to stay?" she asked, her eyes already filling with tears.

"No," I answered.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Please go home and get some rest. I need to concentrate on work. I will be home early."

She nodded, trying hard to hold back her tears. Normally, I would have gone after her, but I wasn't in the mood for another emotional confrontation. Every disagreement seemed to end with tears, and today I simply didn't have the energy for it.

I lowered my eyes to my laptop and opened, my subtle way of telling her, I was busy. She let out an annoyed hiss before walking out of the office, slamming the door so hard that the walls seemed to shake.

I leaned back in my chair and released a long breath. Finally, some silence.

Was this what being engaged was supposed to be like? Not having a moment to myself? If things were already this overwhelming before the wedding, I couldn't help wondering what marriage itself would be like.

Two hours passed as I buried myself in work. Just when I managed to regain my focus, my phone started ringing again, it was Camilla.

I ignored the call, then minutes later, it rang again. Another call from her then another. She kept calling every few minutes, probably checking on me or expecting me to apologize for earlier.

After the fifth or sixth call, I finally got tired of the constant interruptions and switched my phone off completely.

A knock sounded on my office door, I rubbed my forehead with a sigh. For a second, I thought Camilla had come back.

"Come in." The door opened, and Alvin, my assistant, stepped inside.

"Mr. Adrian is here to see you," Alvin said. "He doesn't have an appointment, but he insisted that he needed to see you immediately."

I frowned. What was Amelia's boyfriend doing in my company? Had he come here to confront me because of Amelia?

"Let him in," I said. Alvin nodded and left the office.

A few moments later, Adrian walked in as though he owned the building. He didn't greet me, he marched straight toward my desk. Before I could even stand, his fist slammed into my face.

The force of the punch knocked me backward, sending both me and my chair crashing onto the floor. A sharp pain shot through my jaw as I struggled to process what had just happened.

"How dare you try to frame Amelia for a crime she didn't commit!" he shouted.