Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1144: May I Invite You for a Dance?

Chapter 1144: Chapter 1144: May I Invite You for a Dance?

Suddenly, the girl pushed him away and said coldly, "Cain, weren’t you disinterested in me? What are you doing now, slapping yourself in the face?"

He stiffened.

At this moment, the scene shifted, his surroundings felt empty, and there were two people standing by the bed, a boy and a girl, incredibly pleasing to the eye.

Yuric held Dianna, looking down at him from above, "Cain, don’t be so rough with girls. The more delicate the girl, the gentler you should be. A man who doesn’t understand romantic nuances like you doesn’t deserve Dianna. Dianna really liked you, but unfortunately, you pushed her away yourself. Now, I won’t be polite, Dianna is mine."

With that, Yuric slowly lowered his head and kissed Dianna in his arms.

No.

Don’t!

Mort suddenly opened his eyes on the bed.

Staring at the ceiling, Mort gasped heavily, his muscular chest rising and falling. His ink-black eyes were full of red, and the big hand hanging by his side was tightly clenched, sweating profusely.

Slowly releasing the grip, he licked his dry thin lips with his tongue, then slowly sat up.

Thirsty, wanting to drink water.

He got up from the bed, stood by the table, and poured himself a glass of water.

Holding the cup in his palm, he suddenly thought of that kiss in the dream...

That taste.

He dreamed of her again, another sensual dream.

Yeah, he misses her.

Mort brought the cup to his lips, intending to drink water, when the cheerful footsteps of the servants came from outside the door, "Let’s go, let’s hurry and take a look, there’s a masquerade ball tonight. Anyone who picks the same mask can dance together."

Masquerade ball?

Mort put down the cup. Would she be going too?

His fever hadn’t subsided, he didn’t feel well, but he still stretched his long legs and opened the room door.

...

On the other side, Leah forcibly pulled Dianna out of the room, "Dianna, let’s hurry up, I heard this masquerade ball is very lively. You can’t just stay cooped up in the room, let’s go out and have fun."

Dianna refused, "I don’t want to go."

Leah had her own little plans, she was very angry with her brother, but she couldn’t just leave him alone; she had to play the role of a divine assist. Earlier, she bribed the servants to intentionally discuss the masquerade ball outside Mort’s room, and now she personally came to drag Dianna; she wanted to create opportunities.

"Come on Dianna, just accompany me for fun, let’s go quickly." Leah, without further ado, dragged Dianna away.

Mort arrived at the masquerade ball, but he didn’t go in, instead, standing in a remote, uninhabited corner.

He couldn’t show himself, couldn’t participate in the masquerade ball, maybe he shouldn’t have come at all.

When did he become so uncontrollable? If he’d been so unclear-headed over the years, he might have died several hundred times.

However, the injury inside his shirt was infected, coupled with the addiction in his body; he was just flesh and blood, might not survive past tomorrow.

He just wanted to take a look.

The banquet hall was filled with men and women wearing masks, and soon he saw Dianna among them.

He slipped one hand into his pocket, locking his blood-red ink-black eyes tightly onto that slender figure.

The 21-year-old girl stood in the center of the brightly lit hall, her beauty dazzling to behold.

She stood sideways, her eyes lowered as she picked out a mask.

Mort gazed at her half-profile, her creamy skin exuded an alluring luster like Aurora, her eyelids hanging down, butterfly-like slender lashes falling quietly and beautifully, attracting the men in the hall to frequently steal glances at her.

Mort looked at her, when alone, his gaze examined her body thoroughly from head to toe. At 35, he didn’t hide what he was thinking—he hadn’t touched her for days.

Last night, he clearly dreamt of her, yet he couldn’t control himself, was subtly mocked by Kate as "ineffective."

Mort quickly shook off those sensual images; she was choosing a mask, and soon she selected an eagle mask.

Eagle.

Mort watched her softly stroke the eagle mask with her fingertips; was she thinking of him?

He was the legendary Blood Eagle, but she seemed unaware that it was him. Her fondness for the eagle mask maybe a kind of shared connection; he and she were so perfectly suited in both body and mind.

Mort’s heart melted into a mess; his silly girl, Leah said she’d leave tomorrow when Serena Sterling arrived. Why wasn’t she leaving right away but waiting for Serena?

She still worried about him, huh.

"Mrs. Xavier, Miss Hollis, hello." At this moment, the chief walked over.

Leah turned with Dianna, only to see the chief brought his son Rhys along, Rhys’s eyes now bright on Dianna.

"Chief, Young Master Rhys, hello." Leah greeted them.

"Miss Hollis, did you choose the eagle mask? How coincidental, I chose the eagle mask too." Rhys said, smiling at Dianna.

Dianna glanced at the eagle mask in Rhys’s hand, it really was identical to the one she chose.

When she first walked in, she was immediately drawn to the eagle mask as it seemed a lot like Cain, so she chose it.

Rhys looked at Dianna; honestly, the rain-soaked Riverlands of Central Plains nurtured women best. He’d seen many beauties but never anyone as beautiful as Dianna.

Dianna’s demeanor attracted even more, gracefully serene, even holding a faint sadness while holding the eagle mask, making one want to hold her close.

"Miss Hollis, may I invite you to dance?" Rhys approached Dianna, bending down gentlemanly, extending his hand.

All eyes were on them now, everyone cheering.

"Say yes! Say yes! Quickly say yes!"

"Dance! Dance! Quickly dance!"

Mort watched this scene from his corner, Rhys handsome and charismatic, Dianna gracefully poised, the two surrounded by everyone, a romantic vibe very much in the air.

He knew she was popular; even without Yuric, a Yuric 1.0, Yuric 2.0 would emerge, men would become enamored with her.

Then, the servants beside him were talking.

"Wow, our Young Master Rhys and that Celestial Beauty Miss Hollis really are a match."

"Today’s masquerade ball was arranged by the chief for Young Master Rhys, hoping to choose a young wife for him. Looks like Miss Hollis might become our young mistress."

"Look at Young Master Rhys gazing at Miss Hollis—that’s the gaze of a man falling in love."

Mort’s eyes turned scarlet, veins faintly popped on his forehead; he wanted to rush out right then, pull her to his side, announce his claim to her to the world.