"Dad…" Amelia tugged at her father's arm, willing him to sit back down. He shouldn't be on his feet for long. "Grandpa, sit down, please. Both of you. There's no need for us to yell at each other like this. Both of you have poor hearts; do you want to be hospitalized during my wedding?"
The two men continued to glare hotly at each other before slowly returning to their seats with great reluctance. Horace had to support himself with his cane, for Amelia's main focus was on helping her father.
And why wouldn't she? Her father was the one who had been with her all her life, while Horace had only known her mere months ago.
He would have known of her earlier, but Michael had kept her existence a secret because Horace had let his daughter go. He also hadn't looked for her as hard as he possibly could since he was busy handling the business and the remaining members of his family, thinking that his daughter would come crawling back when she was done playing house―
