Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1222: I Really Like You

Paul was dressed in a tailored suit, his gentle face handsome. He knelt on one knee and slipped a ring onto Melissa’s ring finger.

Melissa accepted Paul’s proposal, and everyone looked on with envy, blessing them, applauding them.

Underneath this photo was a line of text from Blood Eagle: See, without you, I can still be happy!

Mort Thorne tossed the phone aside, gripping Dianna Hollis’s soft little hand tighter, tightly holding it in his warm palm as he continued to lie on the bed asleep.

But soon, the vibration sounded again; Melissa called again.

Instantly, Mort Thorne furrowed his brows in irritation; how annoying!

He reached out and directly shut off the phone.

The noise disappeared, and Mort Thorne closed his eyes.

...

Late at night, the sound of a woman’s high heels clicked in the hospital corridor; Melissa arrived.

Melissa was wearing a long dress, her flowing long hair casually down, tall, graceful and very attractive.

She reached out, pushed open the hospital room door, and walked inside.

The hospital room was lit with a dim yellow light; Dianna Hollis lay on the bed, a man was lying at the bedside.

She stepped forward, lowering her eyes to look at Mort Thorne’s handsome face with deep admiration in her eyes. He hadn’t shaved in a long time; his strong jaw was surrounded by stubble. His clean navy blue V-neck sweater subtly revealed his muscular bronzed skin; this man exuded wildness, full of sensuality.

Melissa raised her hand, wanting to touch his thick lashes like fans. His sword-like brows extended to his temples, straight and charismatic; such a wild man was surprisingly refined, in fact, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

Why were all good qualities concentrated on him, making her so infatuated?

Melissa wanted to touch and caress him.

But before she could touch him, a wide palm flashed by, grabbing her wrist, gently twisting it.

Ah!

Melissa screamed, her face turning pale with pain, "Blood Eagle, it’s me!"

She lifted her eyes, meeting the man’s gaze.

Mort Thorne was awake, his handsome eyes covered with cold frost, staring at her coldly.

He shook her off; she staggered and stepped back several times.

"What are you here for?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

Melissa almost tripped, barely steadying herself, looking lost and embarrassed; her eyes were red as she looked at him, uncomfortable and aggrieved. "Blood Eagle, do you hate me so much?"

Mort Thorne gestured toward the door with his eyes, spat out two crisp and simple words, "Get out!"

"I’m not leaving!"

Mort Thorne’s gaze deepened, a harsh chill emanating from him; he stepped forward, grabbed her slender arm and directly threw her out of the hospital room.

Lazily bothering to glance at her further, he turned back inside.

But Melissa lunged at him, hugging his neck and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his chapped lips.

Without a kiss, Mort Thorne waved her off; she crashed into the wall.

"Don’t make trouble!"

He glanced at her like an eagle, full of intimidation, then turned.

"Blood Eagle!"

Melissa called out, lunging again, holding him tightly from behind.

He was so tall, his shoulders handsome, his back robust, filled with masculine strength that made one want to rely on him.

"Blood Eagle, why are you so heartless to me? I agreed to Paul’s proposal, but I don’t like him at all. I just wanted to provoke you, but you didn’t reply to my messages or answer my calls!"

"I, a dignified daughter of a head chief, have come humbly to beg you; can you not turn around to look at me just once? Just once is enough."

"I’m willing to do anything for you; as long as you agree to be with me, I’ll call off Paul’s proposal now. I’m begging you, don’t reject me anymore; I truly like you, really like you."

Melissa pleaded for this man’s love with tears streaming down her face.

Mort Thorne pursed his lips, his eyes filled with coldness. "I don’t hit women, but if you don’t let go, don’t blame me for not being polite!"

Melissa’s lips trembled, her face pale as paper; he was so cruel and heartless.

Why?

She was deeply afraid of this man, especially when he was angry, so Melissa released him.

Mort Thorne raised his foot, wanting to push open the hospital room door.

But at this moment, his vision was interrupted by a small hand.

This small hand was wrapped in white bandages, looking so tiny, not even halfway into his palm.

The small hand struggled to reach the door, gently opening the hospital room.

A slender silhouette appeared in view.

Mort Thorne stiffened entirely, his pupils filled with the image of this slender figure; she unexpectedly, abruptly and forcefully invaded his line of sight.

His pupils shrank, his breathing tightened.

It was Dianna Hollis.

Dianna Hollis was awake.

Dianna had already gotten out of bed and walked from the bedside to the door, a distance of over ten steps. She walked with cold sweat dripping, almost leaning entirely on the wall.

She fluttered her lashes like butterfly wings, looking at the man frozen by the door, then slowly extended that small hand, puckering her pale little mouth; she pretended to be angry, saying, "Oh, you sneaked out while I was asleep to attract bees and butterflies; now I’ve caught you, come and help me!"

Listening to her voice, delicate, weak yet filled with a hint of teasing, Mort Thorne’s heart softened; he swiftly reached out his large hand to catch her extended little hand, softly reprimanding, "Just woke up and got out of bed, not hurting anymore?"

"It hurts, it really hurts."

The anesthesia’s effect had long worn off; she felt pain all over her body, weak and fatigued. Her pale eyes turned red.

"Really hurts? Where does it hurt?"

Seeing her about to cry, Mort Thorne immediately knit his handsome brows, holding her small hands with gentle, sympathetic worry, "See if you ever dare to get out of bed by yourself again."

"I’m afraid some flower will lure you away." Dianna said as she looked over the man’s handsome shoulders at Melissa behind him.

Mort Thorne didn’t look up, "Silly, I’m Sun Wukong, didn’t you know?"

"What does that mean?" Dianna didn’t understand.

"Specializes in dealing with fox spirits."

"..."

Poof, Dianna immediately hooked her pale lips into a sweet, cheerful smile.

Mort Thorne had met various beauties before, so he was immune, unmoved.

Whatever tricks or motives these women had, they couldn’t affect him; they were just some fox spirits after all.

Mort Thorne extended his muscular arms, wanting to wrap around her narrow waist, but considering the wound on her abdomen, he could only hold her smooth shoulders, "Enough standing and talking, let’s go back to bed. I’ll carry you."

"Okay." Dianna obediently let him carry her.

Mort Thorne gently lifted her horizontally, avoiding her abdominal wound, and strode towards the hospital bed.