Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1193: He’s Angry

Raymond Alden nodded without saying much more. Dotty was Dianna Hollis’s life; whether she wanted to express it or not, it was her choice. No one could dictate or make decisions for her.

"So, why did you invite me over for dinner this time?" Raymond asked with a smile.

Dianna looked at Raymond, "Senior, can’t I just invite you to dinner for no reason?"

Raymond shrugged, "Alright then, if you have the guts, don’t say anything and keep it in."

"...Senior, I heard your company sells prosthetic limbs?"

Raymond nodded, "Yes, we do. Currently, our company’s prosthetic limbs are the most advanced, robotic prosthetics. Many hospitals in the country are discussing collaborations with the Zhao family. Dianna, why are you asking about this?"

"Oh... his right leg is gone. I want to buy him a prosthetic."

Raymond paused with the knife and fork in his hand, "What, his leg is disabled?"

"Yes, it’s gone."

Raymond looked at Dianna. She showed no emotion when talking about his leg being gone, as if it were a trivial matter. There wasn’t a hint of disdain, not even a little.

"Alright, leave it to me." With that, Raymond put down his knife and fork, wiped his lips elegantly with a napkin, and stood up.

Dianna looked up, "Senior, are you leaving already? You haven’t finished eating..."

"I’m already full." As he left, Raymond gave Dianna a long look, "Dianna, unlike other women who profess their love but don’t act, you, on the other hand, don’t say a word about your love but do everything that shows it."

Raymond disappeared from sight.

Dianna stared in the direction Raymond had vanished for a while, then slowly withdrew her gaze. She continued her dinner, though her steak was already cold, and she had little appetite or sense of taste.

"Auntie," Dianna called out.

"Young Miss, what are your instructions?"

"Is the porridge ready? Has the flavor been made milder?" He just woke up, so it’s better to have something light.

...

Dianna went upstairs and entered the room, but she didn’t see Mort Thorne.

Where did Mort Thorne go?

She looked around and noticed that the bathroom door wasn’t entirely closed.

She walked over and, through the gap, saw a tall, robust figure. Mort Thorne stood on one leg by the sink, with one hand in his pocket, and holding a cigarette between two long fingers. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He was smoking.

The curling smoke blurred his handsome, deep-set features. He lowered his head, smoking hastily.

Dianna pushed the door open, reached out, and snatched away his cigarette, "No smoking allowed."

Just after waking up, he was smoking here. Did he not care about his health anymore?

Mort looked at her cold demeanor. Just now, while dining with Raymond downstairs, she wasn’t like this—chatting and laughing. But when it came to him, she turned into an ice block.

He knew she despised him now.

"Just one cigarette," Mort said softly.

"Not even one. No smoking in my room; you’re making it all smoky!" Dianna frowned.

Indeed, she was disgusted by him.

Mort’s handsome face was cold, and since she didn’t allow it, he wouldn’t smoke, "Has your husband left?"

Dianna looked up at him, not saying a word.

"If your husband has left, then I’ll leave too."

He wanted to leave.

Dianna’s lips curved slightly, "Can you go downstairs with just one leg?"

Mort’s gaze deepened; he could.

But he didn’t speak, clearly unwilling to let her see his current sorry state.

"In these three years, have you been with women?" Dianna asked again.

Mort didn’t expect her to ask this; his brows furrowed slightly, "What do you mean?"

Dianna raised her hand and lazily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Do you really not understand, or are you pretending? With just one leg, can you have a woman? Has your ability in that aspect also disappeared?"

Mort stared at her; her clear, cold eyes looked right at him, seemingly indifferent but curious about the question or just provoking, wanting to see his embarrassment.

He knew she was doing it on purpose.

The Adam’s apple bobbed up and down twice, but he didn’t answer the question.

Then Dianna kicked his left leg, "I’m asking you a question, cat got your tongue?"

She was waiting for his answer.

Mort glared at her, "shameless" for a girl to ask such a question to a mature man.

He put his hands in his pockets, responding coolly, "Don’t know, haven’t tried."

In these three years, he had no women.

He didn’t even know the taste of a woman anymore.

Hearing this, Dianna’s small face remained unchanged. She gave him a faint glance, "Right, given your current state, which woman would want you? You deserve it!"

Mort didn’t want to discuss this topic any further. After a few seconds of silence, he said, "Where’s my prosthetic?"

"I don’t know."

"Have someone find it for me."

Just a few simple words, and he was ordering her.

This man was always commanding. Though now disabled, he effortlessly commanded her.

Dianna looked at his amputated right leg, the trouser leg cut by the doctor during the bandaging. Now she confirmed he was indeed disabled, "If you want it, go find it yourself."

Mort’s handsome, deep features turned sour; fine, he couldn’t rely on her now.

He thought she had grown wings and flown.

Then came a "grumble" sound, his stomach growling, not having eaten anything tonight, he was hungry.

This sound clearly reached Dianna’s ears. She looked at the man, "Hungry?"

Mort’s skin was bronze, so even if he blushed, it was unnoticed. But his facial features were stiff, and with sharp eyes glanced at Dianna, who was watching him, seemingly enjoying the joke.

"Prepare me something to eat," he said tensely.

"There’s nothing to eat here."

Mort frowned, cursing lowly, "Are you kidding me? I just saw you eating steak!"

His voice fell, and he regretted it because the girl’s gaze was already fixed on him, "Oh, so you did see it. I thought you were not only disabled but blind too."

Not only did she not offer him food, but she ridiculed him. Mort’s thin lips formed a cold line, "I’m leaving."

He turned and left.

"Mort Thorne, stop!" Dianna grabbed his sleeve, stopping him.

The next moment, Mort reached out, directly pushing her against the wall, overshadowing her with his tall figure, "Dianna, enough! You’re too much!"

Dianna looked up at him. He was truly angry, eyes wide with rage, cheeks clenched, a terrifying sight.