Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1245: She Is My Homeward Journey

Jodie Young’s eyes reddened, and she suddenly felt the urge to cry.

Mort Thorne continued softly, "I left home very early. The year my parents passed away, I wasn’t by their side. Regrettably, I didn’t even get to see them one last time. The memory of my mother’s face has become blurry, but seeing you, I seem to see a shadow of her. My mother loved me and my sister dearly, just like you do everything you do because you love Dianna Hollis."

"I am very aware of the dangers associated with my profession. The path you’ve walked is not one you want Dianna to walk again, and I understand that entirely. Besides, I’m at this age, no mother would choose a son-in-law like me, so I understand, Auntie."

"It was only recently that I learned of little Bit’s existence. I didn’t know I had a daughter. During the three years I was gone, it was you who stayed by Dianna’s side and cared for her and Bit. I will forever remember this kindness."

"Auntie, I’ve always wanted to have a talk with you, to share my true feelings. Maybe I’m not as handsome, young, or wealthy as other men. Dianna marrying me, I daren’t promise much, but I can say with certainty that whatever I have, Dianna will have. In a crowd of men, I am neither superior nor inferior; in a crowd of women, Dianna is the same. Through these years of hardships, I’ve often wondered what kind of destination can match the difficulties encountered along the way. Until I met Dianna, she was my destined path."

The man’s deep voice continued, soft with emotion, "I have no mother. I have no experience with pregnancies. Now Dianna is pregnant with our second child, so please, teach her as much as you can during her pregnancy. Just don’t let her suffer anymore."

Jodie Young closed her eyes, and hot tears rolled down. She somewhat understood Mort Thorne; he’s naturally resilient, never lowering his head in adversity or prosperity. But now he’s saying "please"; he’s bowing to her.

This is all for Dianna Hollis.

It is said that in love, the one who falls first, loves more deeply, is the loser, losing utterly.

She always thought her daughter had lost, but she was wrong. Mort Thorne is the one who had always lost.

He has a passionate loyalty to his country and gives all his tenderest affections to Dianna.

Jodie Young smiled through her tears, "Yes, I will."

At this moment, there was a "bang," the car window shattered, broken by a punch from Mort Thorne.

Mort Thorne successfully carried Jodie Young out and then hoisted her over his shoulder, "The person has been rescued, let’s head back quickly."

"Yes, sir."

The group turned back, and at that moment, a strong wind hit, and a row of massive trees snapped with a "crack."

Dark clouds loomed in, turning the afternoon’s two o’clock sky into pitch blackness. The hail pounded painfully on people’s skin, and the tornado had truly arrived.

"Sir, the tornado has arrived, but it’ll take at least another half hour to get back. Can we still make it?"

In the face of natural disasters, humans become minuscule; the path ahead is an endless unknown and darkness.

Mort Thorne raised his head, wiping the rain from his face, and looked forward, "Yes, we can, we absolutely can."

His deep voice was like the low hum of a night clock landing, filled with strength.

All the Crimson Eye Soldiers’ eyes brightened. After following Mort Thorne through bloody battlegrounds for years, they had persevered, because Mort Thorne was their guiding light.

"Everyone listen, it’s too dark, easy to get lost. Now hold hands, not a single one is allowed to be missing!"

"Yes, sir."

Everyone held hands, braving the storm and rain, moving forward.

Mort Thorne suddenly spotted a red camellia on the ground, vibrant and dewy, just like Dianna Hollis’ face.

He bent over, picked up the camellia, and tucked it into his pocket.

When he returned, he would give it to her, knowing she would love it.

Jodie Young lay on Mort Thorne’s shoulder. He had given her his raincoat, and his entire body was drenched.

She could feel the solid, cold strength within him, and also that tender side he carefully tucked into his pocket.

Just then, a tornado swept in, and Charles Bishop at the very front stumbled twice and was drawn into the massive vortex.

"Lieutenant!" someone shouted.

Mort Thorne, covering the rear, heard the sound and swiftly tossed Jodie Young to one of the Crimson Eye Soldiers. His tall figure darted forward like lightning, his broad hand clasping onto Charles Bishop’s hand, yanking him down with force.

Mort Thorne’s large hand seemed to carry a power capable of uprooting trees, pulling Charles Bishop back alive.

Charles Bishop landed heavily on the ground.

At that moment, Mort Thorne heard a "crack" in his ear, as a towering giant tree fell, heading directly toward the Crimson Eye Soldiers.

"Dodge!"

Mort Thorne shouted with fury, his voice resonating from his core, spreading his strong arms like an eagle to protect the Crimson Eye Soldiers, pushing them forward with force, sending everyone sprawling.

The giant tree fell, crashing down on Mort Thorne.

Mort Thorne’s tall, strong body fell, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"Sir!"

Everyone screamed, scrambling from the ground, trying to move that massive tree together.

But it wouldn’t budge.

Mort Thorne lay on the ground, his lower body trapped under the tree, his whole body numb, blood continuously seeping from the corners of his mouth.

He slowly turned his gaze, spotting that camellia flower falling from his pocket, about to be swept away in a pool where rain and blood mingled.

Struggling, he extended his hand, his scarred palm crawling on the ground to retrieve the camellia, clutching it tightly in his grip.

"Sir!"

That towering tree still couldn’t be moved, and all the Crimson Eye Soldiers began to cry.

The howling cold tornado mingled with the mournful cries, an unspeakable desolation.

Mort Thorne blinked his dense, curled lashes, his pale lips moving, "Why are you crying, am I dead?"

"Sir!"

Crimson Eye Soldiers wiped their tears, only to shed more.

For years, Crimson Eye was more a family, with Mort Thorne as the patriarch, protecting them like a father or an elder brother, like a giant eagle shielding its young. His towering figure never bowed.

But now, he had fallen.

The sky has collapsed.

Crimson Eye’s spirit was lost.

What should they do?

They didn’t know what to do?

"Charles!" Mort Thorne spoke, his voice hoarse and gruff, weak but exceptionally sharp.

"Mort." Charles Bishop crawled over, gripping Mort Thorne’s large hand tightly.

Mort Thorne looked at Charles Bishop, cold rain dripping down his pale, rigid features, "Take them away."

"Sir, we won’t leave!"

"Sir, we won’t leave you; you don’t leave, we don’t leave, not one less, that’s what you said!"