Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1205: I Know, He Loves You

Mort Thorne understood the push-ups mentioned by those top girls in the private room earlier; he’s almost a forty-year-old man, he’s seen it all. He just didn’t expect Dianna Hollis to make such a bold request of him.

She wasn’t a little girl anymore, she understood what needed to be understood. He felt that this was her irrefutable flirtation with him.

Over the past three years, Dianna had blossomed quite a bit. Her small oval face was enchanting, and her demeanor exuded womanhood. Her arched eyebrows radiated a soul-stealing, seductive laziness. Combined with her graceful, curvaceous figure, Mort believed no man could resist such temptation—not even him.

"Stop fooling around, get down," Mort said in a hoarse voice.

Dianna enjoyed watching him clearly want her, yet trying hard to resist. "I’m not getting down. Hurry up and do those push-ups. Are you dragging your feet because you can’t do it?"

"..." At this moment, Mort just wanted to prove himself, to show her whether he could do it or not!

"I only injured my right leg, not my back, got it?"

"I don’t get it!" Dianna pretended to be naive, deliberately provoking him. "Unless you show me!"

Mort blushed, his large hand firmly encircling her soft waist. "Dianna, it seems you’re in need of some discipline after these three years!"

After a while, the room door was pushed open, and Lady Snow walked in.

Lady Snow immediately saw the two of them on the bed. She was taken aback. "Master Thorn..."

When someone barged in, Dianna was startled. She wanted to get off the bed immediately, but her little booties had already slipped off, and even her socks had fallen off, revealing her alabaster feet.

Now disheveled, she appeared as if she had been taken advantage of, embarrassed to the point of wanting to dig a hole and hide.

In contrast, Mort remained calm and collected, not even giving Lady Snow a glance. He got up from the bed, crouched his tall, sturdy frame, picked up the sock in his palm, stretched the opening, and spoke up, "Put it on quickly."

He was putting socks on her.

A sweetness suffused Dianna’s heart. They say older men are more caring, and that was true.

Without any fuss, she slid her fair little foot right in.

Mort then slipped on her little booties.

Today, she was wearing a black short skirt paired with little booties, with white horizontal socks stretched out beneath, a very captivating sight.

Mort tugged her little skirt downward a bit and said deeply, "From now on, skirts must be knee-length!"

"..." The rules of the Thorne family are really strict.

Lady Snow was still there, so Dianna retracted her feet. "Got it, I’m leaving now."

She ran out.

...

In the corridor, Dianna patted her flushed little face. Just then, a voice sounded behind her, "Hello, little sister."

Dianna turned around; it was Lady Snow.

Earlier, Lady Snow had been bringing in ointment.

"Lady Snow, are you looking for me?" Dianna asked.

Lady Snow nodded, "Little sister, do you have hostility towards me? Didn’t he tell you that I’m not his lover?"

Dianna was taken aback.

Lady Snow smiled, "Over twenty years ago, I was sold to this underground palace at the age of fourteen. Others didn’t treat me as a human, but he never mistreated people. He chose me but never touched me."

"Over twenty years ago, I was sold to this underground palace. Being so young, I became a money-maker here. He came that day, not yet twenty, surrounded by crowds, flamboyant and unruly. Everywhere he went, he was respectfully called ’Sir.’ That was when he chose me from the fiery inferno I was in."

"He originally wanted to take me out, to give me a normal life. But how could I survive outside? My home was gone, I hadn’t studied. Those vile old men had harmed my body, I couldn’t even get pregnant. So, I stayed here, and he bought shares of the underground palace for me. I’ve been living freely and at ease all these years."

Dianna knew Lady Snow’s feelings for Mort; this was a woman’s intuition. Naturally, as a woman, she wholeheartedly sympathized with Lady Snow’s plight. "Lady Snow, why are you telling me this?"

Lady Snow looked at Dianna, "Because he loves you."

This ’he’ referred to Mort Thorne.

"I’ve known him for so long, I understand him better than anyone. Women come and go around him, replaced by another batch. He drifts through the world, yet never seems to invest his heart in any woman—except for you."

"When he looks at you, his eyes are filled with your reflection. He smiles at you, crouches down to put socks and shoes on you, and imposes his will, forbidding you to wear short skirts. He treats you so differently."

"I know, he loves you."

Ripples stirred within Dianna’s heart; she also knew he loved her.

But, his love was inconsistent, always wavering.

Just then, Lady Snow stepped forward, gently holding her soft little hand, "Little sister, he is not an ordinary man. For someone like him, love is a lifetime commitment. Whatever he has, he will give it all to you. However, precisely because of deep love, he is always weighing pros and cons, always planning and strategizing for your sake. If he ever chose to leave, it wasn’t out of escape or betrayal. He’s just accustomed to enduring burdens, accustomed to darkness. Before you appeared, ’fear’ was not a word in his life’s dictionary. After you appeared, he learned, stroke by stroke, how to write the word ’fear’ in his palm. It was you who taught him fear. He’s afraid he can’t provide you with happiness."

Dianna was stunned. She had always blamed Mort, blamed him for his frequent wavering. But she never realized it was because he was afraid.

This man, Mort Thorne, shoulders heavy burdens from life’s vicissitudes. True, false, good, evil—he measures them all within his heart.

He wields the sword of justice, invincible, yet under his hardest armor, she became his softest heart.

Dianna’s fair eyes turned red.

Just then, a deep, displeased voice rang in her ear, "What are you two talking about?"

Dianna looked up; Mort was there.

Mort had taken a cold shower, changed into a black shirt, with a white vest underneath. His wet bangs lay on his forehead, and he carried the chill of the water steam, looking particularly striking.

Lady Snow turned her head, only to see his deep ink-black eyes glance at her face once.

Lady Snow quickly lowered her head, like a student who had made a mistake.

Mort shifted his gaze from Lady Snow’s face to Dianna’s. He extended his large hand, "Come here."

Dianna obediently walked over and placed her little hand in his.

Her little hand was slightly cool, while his palm was warm and dry. He tightened his grip on her hand, scolding in a deep voice, "Standing here chatting, are you not afraid the scorpions can see you, or do you think your life is too long?"

Dianna stuck out her small pink lips, acknowledging her mistake.

"Let’s go, I’ll take you out."

Hand in hand, he led her away.

Lady Snow stood behind, watching the two figures. The man tall and handsome while the girl was bright and charming, with almost a twenty-year age gap, yet they seemed perfectly matched.