Daddy, You Got The Wrong Mommy-Chapter 315: This Kind of Damon Hawke Is Hard to Accept

Chapter 315: Chapter 315: This Kind of Damon Hawke Is Hard to Accept

At this moment, the chief physician conducting the examination for him walked in.

He examined the man carefully, then gestured to Andrew King to step outside for a word.

"There’s no serious issue with Mr. Hawke’s physical health, but his brain has suffered significant trauma, causing temporary amnesia."

Upon hearing this, Andrew King’s expression became somewhat grave.

"Thank you for your hard work."

He thanked the doctor and turned to enter the ward.

Once the door was closed, the doctor hurriedly took out his phone and dialed a number as he left.

"I’ve done everything according to your instructions. Release my wife and son now."

"Don’t worry, you’ve done a great job. Of course your wife and child will be fine. Remember to keep your mouth shut, or imagine the consequences."

A man’s voice came through the phone, and the doctor hung up, his expression full of indignation.

Someone had threatened him with the lives of his wife and child, forcing him to conduct an examination on the supposed Damon Hawke and tell the Hawthorne what had been dictated to him.

That ’Damon Hawke’ was not ill at all, nor was his brain severely injured.

He was deceiving them!

But he was powerless; he couldn’t put his wife and child at risk.

He could only apologize to the Hawthorne.

In the ward, Andrew King looked at the man on the bed and sighed.

"Tom, do you know who I am?"

The doctor said he had lost his memory, but he still wanted to ask.

"I don’t know, who are you?"

"I am your father," Andrew King replied.

The ’Damon Hawke’ looked at Andrew King, then at Vinny Hawke, and said, "You are my dad, she is my mom. Did you guys have any interesting stories before? Tell me, maybe listening to it will help me remember things from the past."

Andrew King frowned, steadily gazing at him.

"Tom, you..."

Why did this person not speak like the Damon Hawke he knew?

Too frivolous.

"Alright, Tom just woke up, surely he’s uncomfortable; stop asking him questions,"

Vinny Hawke hurriedly said.

Andrew King hesitated, holding back his words, and said no more.

"I have a headache, why don’t you all go back? Just let my wife stay here to take care of me."

The eyes of ’Damon Hawke’ flashed as he touched his head and spoke.

His wife!

Andrew King glanced at Elara Don, holding back his words.

Why did it feel like his son’s entire personality had changed after a fall?

Elara Don and Andrew King exchanged glances, equally innocent.

After a pause, she said, "Uncles and aunt, Tom has already woken up. You haven’t rested well these past couple of days; why don’t you head back? I’ll stay and take care of him."

Upon hearing this, Vinny Hawke and Andrew King exchanged a look and nodded.

"Elly, we’ll trouble you then. Call us if anything comes up," Andrew King said.

"Okay, take care on your way out."

Elara Don watched them leave.

Once they were gone, Elara Don turned around and saw Damon Hawke staring at her intently.

"Wife, come here, let me have a good look at you."

Elara Don felt inexplicably strange.

She stared at him for two seconds, then walked over as instructed.

The man pulled her hand onto the bed.

"Wife, you smell so good, let your husband kiss you."

The man’s actions were too reckless.

Elara Don was shocked.

She forcefully pulled away from him and stepped back two paces.

"Tom, what are you doing?"

Is this person really Damon Hawke?

Why did she find this man so unfamiliar?

"Wife, I want to kiss you! Can’t I? Aren’t you my wife? Don’t you love me?"

The man spoke with a face full of grievance.

Didn’t love him?

A flash of memory appeared in her mind; the last phone call before Damon Hawke fell off the cliff.

He asked her if she loved him the way he loved her.

She hadn’t had the chance to tell him she did love him.

Thinking of this, Elara Don suppressed the queer feeling inside and softened her voice, "Alright, didn’t you just suffer an injury? Don’t move too much, have a good rest."

"I’m fine, wife..."

"How can you be fine? You fell from such a height, even your brain was injured, how can your body be fine?"

Elara Don’s eyes flashed as she asked the ’Damon Hawke.’

The man opened his mouth, meeting Elara Don’s bright eyes, his own eyes looked guilty as he lowered his gaze.

"You’re right, I feel so suffocated in my chest. Wife, help me relieve my discomfort."

He couldn’t be hasty, lest it raised suspicion.

Such a beautiful woman, he would find an opportunity eventually.

"Where do you feel uncomfortable? Here?"

Elara Don pondered for a moment, sat by the bed, and pretended to show concern as she lifted the man’s hospital gown.

Just then, an odd thought surged through her mind.

Could this man not be Damon Hawke?

Damon Hawke had a birthmark on his chest; true or false, it would be evident at a glance.

"Wife, touch me quickly; if you touch me, I feel much better."

The man saw Elara Don lifting his hospital gown, staring fixedly at his exposed chest, his eyes flashed, and he reached out to pull Elara Don’s hand onto his chest.

Elara Don was stunned, quickly withdrew her hand from his grasp, then stood up.

"Are you hungry? Should I buy you something to eat?"

Maybe she was overthinking.

His chest did have the plum blossom birthmark.

But such a Damon Hawke made her somewhat difficult to accept.

Let her recover for a bit.

"Wife, don’t go."

"You have a good rest; I’ll be right back."

Elara Don asked the hired nurse to help look after the man, then left the ward, letting out a long breath.

What was she thinking?

Perhaps Damon Hawke’s behavior was different because of the head injury.

He would get better gradually over time.

Elara Don shook her head, suppressed the odd feeling within her, and walked forward.

In the ward, the man on the bed saw Elara Don leave, and the nurse come in, a flash of satisfaction appeared in his eyes.

"Brother, was my acting good? The Hawthorne and Elara Don believed me."

The male nurse slowly stood up straight, speaking coldly, "I advise you not to overact. If you mess it up, you’ll have to deal with the aftermath."

"Got it, got it, relax. Your boss has everything arranged, the Hawthorne won’t suspect a thing."

The man appeared indifferent.

The male nurse looked at him with disdain for two seconds, then went to the restroom and dialed a phone.

"Boss, everything went smoothly..."

The man on the hospital bed smacked his lips, feeling a little bored, and began recalling the events of the past period.

His name was George Harris, and he was a nightclub gigolo.

Ever since he was young, he knew he was handsome, so when he grew up, he didn’t desire regular work, instead leveraging his looks to make money.

Making money off women was too easy; his idleness led to a gambling addiction, spending whatever money he had at the gambling table.

Two months ago, someone suddenly approached him, saying that if he cooperated with them in an act, he would earn a substantial sum.

He was strapped for cash, so he asked what they intended.

It turned out they wanted him to impersonate Damon Hawke, the head of Hawke Group!

He had indeed heard from others that he bore a resemblance to Damon Hawke.

A wealthy woman even sought out his business because he looked like Damon Hawke.

Now someone was offering him money to masquerade as the real Damon Hawke, and he finally agreed.

They took him for some minor cosmetic enhancements, making him resemble Damon Hawke even more.

After that, he was provided with fine living accommodations and supplied him with information on the Hawthorne, keeping him ready for anything.

Today, he was brought to the hospital.

Damon Hawke’s woman was indeed quite stunning.

They wanted him to quickly become involved with Elara Don.

He couldn’t be happier to oblige!