Paul was dressed in a tailored suit, his gentle face handso. He knelt on one knee and slipped a ring onto lissa’s ring finger.
lissa 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; lissa 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; lissa arrived.
lissa 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 handso face with deep admiration in her eyes. He hadn’t shaved in a long ti; 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.
lissa 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 handso man she’d ever seen.
Why were all good qualities concentrated on him, making her so infatuated?
lissa wanted to touch and caress him.
But before she could touch him, a wide palm flashed by, grabbing her wrist, gently twisting it.
Ah!
lissa scread, her face turning pale with pain, "Blood Eagle, it’s !"
She lifted her eyes, eting the man’s gaze.
Mort Thorne was awake, his handso eyes covered with cold frost, staring at her coldly.
He shook her off; she staggered and stepped back several tis.
"What are you here for?" he asked with a furrowed brow.
lissa 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 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 lissa 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!"
lissa called out, lunging again, holding him tightly from behind.
He was so tall, his shoulders handso, his back robust, filled with masculine strength that made one want to rely on him.
"Blood Eagle, why are you so heartless to ? 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 ssages or answer my calls!"
"I, a dignified daughter of a head chief, have co humbly to beg you; can you not turn around to look at just once? Just once is enough."
"I’m willing to do anything for you; as long as you agree to be with , I’ll call off Paul’s proposal now. I’m begging you, don’t reject anymore; I truly like you, really like you."
lissa 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 won, but if you don’t let go, don’t bla for not being polite!"
lissa’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 lissa released him.
Mort Thorne raised his foot, wanting to push open the hospital room door.
But at this mont, 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, co and help !"
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 imdiately knit his handso 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 so flower will lure you away." Dianna said as she looked over the man’s handso shoulders at lissa behind him.
Mort Thorne didn’t look up, "Silly, I’m Sun Wukong, didn’t you know?"
"What does that an?" Dianna didn’t understand.
"Specializes in dealing with fox spirits."
"..."
Poof, Dianna imdiately hooked her pale lips into a sweet, cheerful smile.
Mort Thorne had t various beauties before, so he was immune, unmoved.
Whatever tricks or motives these won had, they couldn’t affect him; they were just so fox spirits after all.
Mort Thorne extended his muscular arms, wanting to wrap around her narrow waist, but considering the wound on her abdon, 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.
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