Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband

Chapter 1362: Reunion

Willow Crawford entered the villa; it was a high-end private residence, and the owner inside was either rich or noble.

Currently, only the words "Mr. Linden" could be found; nothing else was known. Willow didn’t know what kind of person this Mr. Linden was. However, now, this Mr. Linden was reportedly hiring escorts online, with a rather chaotic private life. Anyway, he wasn’t a good man.

"Follow me upstairs first," the maid said.

Willow glanced around while following the maid upstairs. The maid opened a room door and shoved a set of clothes into her arms, "Hurry up and take a milk and rose petal bath, then change into these clothes."

What?

She wasn’t an escort, but this maid was too persistent, giving her the full treatment as part of the act!

Milk bath with rose petals, changing clothes...

What kind of clothes are these?

Willow looked at the clothes in her hand—simple white shirt and black pleated skirt, a high school uniform.

A uniform!

Willow felt a bit creeped out. Did this Mr. Linden have a thing for uniforms, or maybe, did he like schoolgirls?

Either way, Willow’s impression of Mr. Linden dropped to the lowest point.

"Where is your master? I want to meet him," Willow said straightforwardly.

Maid, "You want to see my master just because you want to? Who do you think you are, the First Princess?"

First Princess Willow, "..."

"Alright, stop dawdling. Take a bath and change; clean yourself up, and I’ll take you to meet my master." Having said that, the maid proudly walked out.

Willow knew she couldn’t communicate with the maid, so she didn’t waste any more words. Looking at the uniform, she really wanted to turn around and leave, but Mr. Linden was so mysterious that she had to meet him.

In these five years, she had matured and stepped onto the political stage. She never thought she would one day be stuck in a villa like this, helpless under Mr. Linden’s control.

Clearly, she only had the option to obey now.

Willow entered the bath.

...

After the bath, Willow put on the uniform and stood in front of the vanity mirror, looking at her reflection.

She didn’t know if all uniforms looked the same or it was a coincidence, but this uniform was exactly the same as the one she wore five years ago in high school.

Wearing this uniform made Willow feel like she had traveled back in time to when she was an innocent, carefree girl.

The maid walked in, "Follow me, I’ll take you to meet the master."

Willow snapped back to reality, feeling that not only was Mr. Linden mysterious, but even the maid was a little odd; her timing was too precise.

Willow followed the maid to the master bedroom door, where the maid instantly switched from a proud demeanor to a respectful one. She raised her hand to knock on the door, "Sir, the person you wanted is here."

It was very quiet inside, and a few seconds later, a deep, magnetic voice came out, "Enter."

Judging by the voice, this gentleman should be quite young.

His voice was very pleasant, the type that could make one’s ears swoon.

The maid didn’t go inside but looked at Willow, "You may enter."

With that, the maid turned and left.

Willow looked at the closed door in front of her, then raised her hand to the door handle, gently pushing it open.

The bedroom was large; it was a man’s room, with cool hues and understated luxury in the décor. As Willow walked in, she quickly spotted a tall, handsome figure on the sofa—it was...

In a blink, five years had passed, and the once cold and aloof youth had become a handsome, refined man. His features were more striking and profound. His mere presence was captivating.

Morgan Ashworth sat on the sofa, clad in a black shirt and pants, with a couple of shirt buttons undone, revealing his elegant collarbone. His long legs were elegantly crossed, and he held a glass of red wine, swirling it with a languid grace befitting an upper-class gentleman.

"You came?" Morgan lifted his handsome eyelids to look at Willow.

Willow looked at him and asked, "Who are you?"

Who are you?

The question was quite interesting, and Morgan curled his thin lips, "What, don’t recognize me?"

Willow furrowed her brows, "Should I know you?"

Fine.

Very well.

For five years, he thought of her day and night, only to find out she had completely forgotten him.

"I’m your... employer, you know, I hired you. Your appearance fee for tonight wasn’t cheap."

Willow suddenly remembered that he had hired an escort for entertainment.

"Come here," at this moment, Morgan moved his thin lips and uttered two words.

The light by the sofa was dim, so Willow couldn’t make out his expression clearly, but she could vaguely sense his gaze upon her, wanton and invasive, like a dangerous wolf eyeing its delicious prey.

Willow didn’t want to go closer, "I don’t..."

"Then get lost." Morgan directly interrupted her.

"..." Over the years, Willow had been in high positions, mingling with influential people, but no one had dared to command her like this.

Could she leave?

No.

Willow clenched her fist, then moved over, standing before him.

Now that she was closer, his gaze became clearer. He was indeed looking her over, using the gaze of a man sizing up a woman, from top to bottom more than once.

"Mr. Linden, do you know me?" Willow asked.

Morgan looked at her clean and honest eyes. She truly seemed not to recognize him, not pretending.

"Oh, don’t know," Morgan casually shook his head, "I must have the wrong person. You just resemble someone I knew before."

"Who?"

Morgan didn’t answer her question, instead slowly raising an eyebrow, exuding the charm of a mature man, "I must be mistaken. Your figure is much better than hers; see how this shirt is almost... bursting on you."

What was he saying?

His gaze was fixed right on her chest, blatantly lecherous.

He really seemed to be looking at an escort, with no respect at all.

Blood rushed to her head, and Willow turned to leave.

But a well-defined hand reached out, grabbing her delicate wrist and gently tugging. She lost her balance and fell directly onto his sturdy thigh.

Looking at the woman in his arms, Morgan smiled somewhat wickedly, "Acting like a chaste maiden? Getting angry over a joke?"

Willow immediately struggled, "Mr. Linden, get a grip! I am not that person you knew. Please release me immediately!"