Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 370

Daniel’s face didn’t flicker in the slightest. He even had the leisure to crack a joke. “Mr. White, you’ve grabbed my collar twice in ten minutes. Are you sure you’re not falling for me?”

Mogan just stared at him.

“Don’t bother. It wouldn’t end well,” Daniel drawled, prying Mogan’s hand off and straightening his shirt collar. “Besides, I’m really not interested in men’s asses.”

Mogan was speechless.

A beat later, Daniel seemed to register what Mogan had said earlier, his expression shifting to perfectly feigned surprise. “Wait—did you just say Amelia is part of the Scott family?”

He laughed. “Seriously? You know what the Scotts are like. With the Browns’ appetite for revenge, do you really think any Scott would have survived this long?”

Mogan knew how absurd it sounded—especially with Daniel looking so utterly unmoved. Any conviction he’d had in his theory was crumbling fast.

“What I mean is… Amelia is the real Rose Scott.”

The Scott family’s heiress was born Rose. She only started using the name Violet after the family’s downfall.

Daniel gave him a look usually reserved for idiots. “So you’re telling me I went to all this trouble to protect an imposter while tossing the real Scott heiress out on the street to fend for herself?”

The elevator dinged. Daniel stepped out. “With an imagination like that, why not dream up world peace while you’re at it? Maybe then kids wouldn’t have to slog through English classes anymore.”

Mogan hurried after him. “Amelia loves apple tarts. And she’s got a crescent-shaped birthmark on her waist. I remember it clearly—Rose had a birthmark in the exact same place.”

Daniel gave a low chuckle. “Plenty of people like apple tarts. As for the birthmark… So you’re ready to strip Violet of her identity as the Scott heiress just because of that? If she overheard, she’d probably try to off herself again.”

Mogan stiffened. “How is it possible? Same face, same birthmark, same place. Do you really think that’s just a coincidence?”

Mogan’s face twisted as if he’d just gulped down a swarm of gnats.

Daniel withdrew his hand, shoved it into his pocket, and added, “If you still don’t believe me, go look it up yourself. A man as resourceful as you should have no trouble digging up the past.”

Would someone with a guilty conscience really be so blasé about being investigated?

Mogan lingered in the smoking lounge for a long time. He didn’t leave until he’d finished his last cigarette, stubbing it out and dropping the butt into the tray before heading back to the hospital room.

Violet was still awake, waiting for him. Her eyes were red and puffy, making her look like a forlorn rabbit. “Mogan, is Daniel still mad at me?”

Mogan had never been in a relationship and had no idea what jealousy or anger were supposed to look like. But whatever it was, he was pretty sure it wasn’t Daniel’s chilly indifference. He wanted to say Daniel wasn’t angry at all, so the question of whether he’d calmed down didn’t even apply.

But when he met Violet’s pitiful, hopeful gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.