Marry My Billionaire Second Husband Chapter 172: Kept in the Dark

"Dad!"

The second Dimitri unlocked the door to his ho, Alia had already sprinted in. Her eyes scoured the space before it eventually landed on her father, sitting at the dining table with a bowl of steaming hot noodle soup in front of him. There were a few dishes that were also placed on the table, most likely the ones he claid Dimitri had left for him.

Her eyes twitched. So much for already having dinner! Not only had he lied about his injuries, he had also lied about sothing as simple as having dinner.

"Alia!" Michael Kentwood was so shocked that he dropped the fork onto the table, defaulting from the endearing nickna back to Alia’s full na. "What are you doing here?"

Then, his good eye found Dimitri, Ronan, and Matteo standing by the door. The older man sighed.

"Did the boys tell you?"

"If they didn’t, were you planning on keeping this a secret from ?" Alia hotly demanded. She marched her way over, bending down to examine her father’s injury, only to get swatted away.

"I’m fine, Millie. It’s not a big deal. You didn’t have to co all the way here," he said with a sigh. Turning, he tried to pivot away so as to hide his injury from her, which only further irritated Alia.

"How did this happen, Michael?" Dimitri asked, frowning as he stepped into the house. Ronan locked the door behind them once they were all in, shaking his head as he did so.

Michael Kentwood rely glanced at his daughter, his lips pursed even tighter together than before. Alia sighed, exasperated.

"You can’t have not worry by keeping in the dark," she said quietly, kneeling right beside where her father sat.

"You’re about to be married, Millie," he said. "I can’t worry you with these things. I’ll handle it, don’t you worry."

She held his hand and pleaded. "I am already worried," she said. Then, in a quieter voice, she asked, "It’s Uncle Joshua, isn’t it?"

"You do not have such a disgraceful, scum-on-the-earth uncle," Michael hissed in anger.

"It is, then," Alia said. When her father sighed, that was all the confirmation she needed. "What did he do? Why― I an, I thought you were so insistent on staying away. Why would you go look for him?"

"I didn’t," Michael Kentwood said. "I ran into the bastard a couple of blocks down from here when I was on my way back." Then, as if he thought of sothing funny, he chuckled. "If you think this is bad, if only you saw how pathetic that fucker looked."

Alia jolted, not expecting that expletive to fall from her father’s lips. He did not seem to notice, however, and continued to speak.

"If he knows any better, he will learn to stay away from you for good."

"That’s great and all, but hitting him would get you into trouble with the police," Alia pointed out, frowning.

"No it wouldn’t," Ronan said offhandedly. "We will just bail him out. By the looks of it, your uncle wouldn’t have that sa luxury."

"Especially if he hit first," Matteo added. "In that case, your father’s actions would’ve been self-defense."

"What did he want?" Alia frowned, squinting at Ronan and Matteo in disapproval before turning back to her father. "Is it money again?"

"When is it ever anything else?" her father scoffed. "Never mind about him. These injuries will heal, and his injuries will make sure he keeps his distance for the next few weeks. Your wedding is coming up and you―"

Michael Kentwood suddenly turned to glare at Matteo.

He said, "Make sure to amp up security at the venue. With how televised your wedding will be, there’s a good chance he might try sothing then."

"I will make sure uninvited guests are kept out," Matteo promised. "Not even a fly would be allowed in."

Only then did Michael nod in satisfaction. He patted the back of Alia’s hands and said, "Enough about . How did your event go?" He smiled wistfully. "I rember when I first brought you to that orphanage to volunteer. Who knew you would eventually return and help the children there all over again?"

From the corner of her eye, Alia could see Matteo stiffen slightly.

"The orphanage?" Alia asked, bewildered. Her eyes widened for a second before she shook her head. "No, wait, Dad―"

"I don’t want to speak about that man tonight, Alia," he sternly said. "If you’re not planning to share about your day, then I would like to have so rest. Dimitri, could you help an old man up?"

"Of course."

Leaving Alia no room for argunt, Dimitri quickly ferried Michael Kentwood away and back to his room. Alia watched her father’s retreating back all the way until he disappeared past the door. Then, her eyes fell on the food on the dinner table. It was left half-finished, and so of it was still steaming.

"We’ll make sure there’s supper for him if he gets hungry in the middle of the night," Ronan promised. "You and Matteo should head back and get so rest. It’s been a long day."

Alia’s face was downcast. She stared at the floor gloomily, even when Matteo placed a hand gently on her shoulder to pull her close.

"Check with the security team," Matteo said. "See if anyone saw what happened this afternoon."

"I know how to do my job, Boss," Ronan said in a joking manner. He waved his hand to create a shooing motion. "Dimitri and I will check and let you know." Ronan then gazed at Alia. "Get so rest."

Alia could only numbly nod. She slowly reached into her purse and pulled out three identical envelopes. They were all white, embossed in gold. She handed them to Ronan.

"Our wedding invitations," she explained. "We finally received the cards we ordered. You three are the first ones to receive them."

"If security is heightened, you will need to hang onto these," Matteo added. "Even if you’re the best man."

Ronan nodded.

"Let’s go, Matteo," Alia said, and without another word, she led Matteo out of Ronan and Dimitri’s apartnt.

While she understood her father’s intentions, it was infuriating not knowing. She was always kept in the dark, it seed― Caleb’s true heritage, her respective parents’ family histories, and now...

She looked at Matteo.

He ntioned that they t before. That was another secret Alia didn’t know about even though it concerned her. His reaction when her father brought up the orphanage struck her mory.

Had Matteo ever clarified how they knew each other previously? And how did she forget ever eting soone like him?

After all, Matteo Montgory was like the shimring light of the golden afternoon sun. If they had t before, she would’ve never forgotten about his brilliance. But there was a nagging feeling in her head that this wasn’t the only thing she had forgotten.

Silently, she swore to grill her father for more details. He would know.