Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1185: Mort Thorne Is Back

Little Willow Crawford’s birthday banquet ended, and Dianna Hollis and Raymond Alden took Dotty back home. Dotty was raised by her grandmother Jodie Young, and the bond between the grandmother and granddaughter is particularly strong.

After leaving Dotty with her grandmother, Dianna Hollis and Raymond Alden walked out, Raymond put an arm around Dianna’s shoulder, "Dianna, let’s go home."

Just as these words fell, there was a "ding" sound, and Dianna received a text message.

She took out her phone, opened the message, and then looked up apologetically at Raymond, "I can’t go home with you."

Raymond shrugged, clearly already accustomed to it. His wife was much busier than him, even though he was a CEO. "Another task?"

"Yes, I have to leave."

Raymond sighed softly, affectionately ruffling her hair, "Go ahead, your husband and daughter can take care of themselves."

"Then I’m off." Dianna left.

However, Raymond grabbed Dianna’s hand, "Wait."

Dianna looked at him puzzled, "Something else?" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Raymond chuckled, "Can’t call you for nothing? Dianna, you’re my Mrs. Alden now, you need to be mindful of your role as a wife. Come, give a hug."

Raymond extended his arm and embraced Dianna.

...

Dianna went to the bustling street and started to hail a cab.

At this time, a regular van stopped in front of a convenience store. The back door was pulled open, and five or six kids from the mountains got out with their luggage. They looked at the man in the driver’s seat, "Uncle, we’re off to college." In the driver’s seat was a man wearing a black V-neck T-shirt and a baseball cap on his head.

The cap was pulled down low, concealing his face. Only his cold, chiseled jawline was vaguely visible.

His large hands gripped the steering wheel. Those hands, rough from years of manual labor, were strong under the thin T-shirt, hinting at muscular, defined male curves, radiating a rugged masculinity and manly strength that made one want to swoon.

Just then, a school bus stopped, and the dean of X University arrived to pick up the kids.

The dean waved to the man in the van.

The man lifted his deep, dark eyes to glance at the dean, then turned to look out the window at the simple kids. He spoke softly, "Go on."

Go on.

A simple two words, without any further admonition.

But the kids’ eyes reddened with emotion, "Uncle, we’ll study hard and make you proud."

Before breaking into sobs, the kids ran off.

The man watched their retreating figures, then reached into the van’s compartment to find a pack of cigarettes. He placed one between his lips.

At this moment, a girl suddenly ran back. She gathered her courage, leaned over, and quickly kissed the man’s handsome cheek, "Uncle, when I graduate, I’ll marry you and be your wife."

Saying this, the girl blushed and ran off again.

The dean gently took the kids’ luggage, kindly smiling, "Every year your uncle sends students here for college. Many girls say they’ll marry him after graduation. It seems your uncle has quite the charm."

The kids smiled brightly, "Uncle adopted us, gave us light and hope. He’s the greatest and most lovable person in our hearts."

The dean repeatedly nodded, realizing the fervor of true fans. "Is your uncle’s leg any better?"

At this, the kids quickly showed sad expressions, "Uncle’s leg was amputated three years ago. He relies on a prosthetic but has a special condition where each time he uses it, he’s in pain and has allergic reactions for a long time."

The dean looked out the window, sighing. He patted the kids’ heads, knowing many of them went into medical studies hoping to help that man.

Things will get better; good people deserve a lifetime of peace.

In the van, the man squinted his eyes, "pop" as he lit the cigarette between his lips, silently exhaling smoke.

He was Mort Thorne!

Three years later, Mort Thorne hadn’t changed much, yet he seemed different everywhere. The passage of time had forged him into a man of restraint and compassion, with a quiet dignity. Now, he was more reserved.

Sitting in the cheap car, he silently smoked, his dark eyes behind the smoke glancing faintly at the neon city lights outside. This was the City of Crestfall, a place familiar to him.

Here, lived the people he knew best.

But he couldn’t reveal his true face.

Who was he now?

He didn’t know.

Maybe just a wandering soul in this city.

But thinking of those simple kids, he curled his lips into a slight smile, taking a drag of his cigarette, a tender ripple passing through his eyes.

A girl had kissed him, he hadn’t paid much attention. They’re just kids, knowing nothing.

He lowered his handsome gaze to his right leg, which was empty, having been amputated.

In the passenger seat lay a prosthetic limb, ready for use.

He leaned back the driver’s seat, letting his strong body relax in it temporarily.

Taking a drag, he pulled out his phone, an old model, and scrolled to a photo.

The only photo.

The photo was of... Dianna.

Three years ago when he got out of prison, she had lain on his bed, her face peaceful, butterfly-like lashes gently resting, like a little angel who had fallen to earth.

His rough fingertip caressed her tender face, the soft sound of her voice echoed in his ear.

Mort Thorne, I miss you so much.

Mort Thorne, I want you to kiss me, hug me, praise me.

Mort Thorne, I miss you so much I could cry...

Dianna.

His Dianna.

This year he had turned thirty-eight. If he had any regrets in life, it was Dianna.

The ring still lay quietly in his pants pocket. In the end, he and she had missed each other.

But...

Mort closed his eyes, wanting to shake away that small oval face from his mind, but it was no use. Whenever he was in her city, he felt restless.

Inside him lived a beast, running wild, roaring.

Mort swallowed down his emotions, abruptly opened his eyes, sat up, turned the wheel, and pressed the gas, speeding away.

In the school bus, the kids watched Mort drive off, not finding it strange because their older siblings had told them that every time he was here, Uncle would go to see someone.

"Look, Uncle really left."

"Who do you think Uncle went to see?"

"I don’t know either, but I think it must be the person Uncle loves the most."

"I can’t imagine what kind of person we love would captivate Uncle’s heart."