Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband

Chapter 1375: Don’t Mess with Willow Crawford!

What is he even saying?

Those three words exploded right next to Willow Crawford’s ear. How could he even say that with a straight face?

"Don’t talk nonsense, I so did not!" Willow shot him a glare.

Morgan Ashworth walked over, his gaze falling on Willow’s little face that was white with a rosy glow. "Really didn’t? Then what were you just talking about with that Rosalind Rowan?"

Talking about...

That was all Rosalind talking; she didn’t say anything. Compared to Rosalind’s wild, passionate style, she was a total good girl.

"We didn’t talk about anything. I’m leaving." Willow seized the chance to slip away.

But Morgan moved faster. He pinned her in the corner against the wall, cutting off any escape. "Were you two talking about me?"

As the distance between them closed, his tall, straight figure cast a shadow right over her eyes. She was trapped in his arms like a little songbird in a cage, the air turning a bit ambiguous.

"We weren’t..."

"Still lying? You little liar." Morgan’s lips hooked up.

Willow said, "I am not a little liar..."

"Not only were you two talking about me, you were discussing some very unhealthy topics related to me. Princess, does that count as hooligan behavior? Secretly coveting and peeping at my good looks behind my back, and even mentally molesting me."

"..." Willow was completely stunned, shocked by the string of words pouring out of his mouth. She’d seen plenty of perverts in her life, but this was the first time anyone had called her a ’female pervert.’

Was she a female pervert?

Absolutely not!

Even though just now... just now she’d been a little bit dazed, a little bit fluttery. But hey, everyone appreciates beauty. He really was handsome and charming, easy to make people’s minds wander. Still, she had never wanted to take advantage of him or... mentally molest him!

"Mr. Linden, stop twisting things around here and slapping random charges on my head!"

She straightened her neck, forcing herself to sound righteous, but Morgan could see the blush spreading from her cheeks all the way behind her ears. He’d nailed her girlish thoughts right on the head.

Morgan lifted a hand and pressed it against the wall beside her, his handsome face slowly lowering toward hers. His hoarse voice carried a lazy, murmuring magnetism. "So you were talking about me. Talk then, talk all you want. Talk about me openly, as much as you like. I’m only giving you the right to talk about me."

Willow’s heart lurched, ripples spreading through her chest again and again. "You... you don’t like Princess Rosalind?"

"Hm?"

"I just saw you chatting with Princess Rosalind and looking really happy."

"Then there’s something wrong with your eyes. You need to get that vision problem checked. One, I wasn’t chatting with her. Two, I wasn’t happy. I don’t like that Princess Rosalind. She’s not my type."

He said Rosalind Rowan wasn’t his type.

"Then... then what kind of type do you like?" Willow asked in a small voice.

Morgan’s thin lips curved, his voice dropping low so only the two of them could hear. "I thought you knew. After all, five years ago I was so bewitched by you I would’ve gladly given you my life."

Willow’s fingertips curled. That youthful love from five years ago had left an indelible mark on both their hearts.

Maybe he didn’t love her anymore now, but the type he was drawn to was still her kind: the pure, fairy-like one, not Rosalind’s kind of hot and spicy.

Willow wanted to speak, but then Morgan suddenly took something out and draped it over her head.

Willow’s pupils constricted. He had pulled out a piece of white gauze and placed it over her head.

Today she was wearing a thin white gauzy dress, and now there was white gauze over her head too, just like she’d become... his bride.

But today was clearly her wedding anniversary with Prince Rosen. Willow couldn’t help suspecting that he’d planned all of this, that he was doing it on purpose.

"Don’t do this..." Willow tried to yank off the gauze and push him away.

But Morgan had her locked in. His dark eyes burned intensely into her, that gaze like boiling molten lava about to melt her. "Willow Crawford, you wore my ring. You were mine to begin with!"

As he spoke, Morgan slowly reached out and lifted the gauze from her head.

Her stunning little face landed squarely in his line of sight.

Willow couldn’t take this and started to struggle. "I’m leaving."

Morgan wouldn’t let her go. He cradled her small face in both hands. "You’re not allowed to leave, Willow."

With that, he lowered his head and kissed her.

This time his kiss was very gentle, not like before when he’d been rough and used her as an outlet. Willow wasn’t afraid of his cold heart and cruelty; what terrified her was his gentle offensive. Because deep down, she had always loved him, loved him so, so much.

Her knees went weak and she sagged straight toward the floor.

Morgan’s arm tightened just in time around her slender waist, pulling her firmly against his chest. "Willow, open your mouth."

His voice was hoarse.

Willow wanted to refuse, but she realized she had no strength to resist at all. Her heart had already completely surrendered.

When Morgan pried at her teeth, she slipped up instantly and let him in, letting him conquer her.

This kiss had been five whole years in the making.

Willow’s heart had turned to mush. Her pale, slender fingers curled slightly, then lifted to loop around his neck.

Clumsily, she kissed him back.

That one move was like lighting a fuse on Morgan. His kisses trailed to her earlobe, his breathing growing heavy.

Morgan held her very, very tightly. Willow felt something poking against her lower belly.

She immediately realized what it was and began to struggle.

"Don’t move." Morgan rasped a warning. "Unless you want me to take you right here, right now."

She believed him!

Of course she did!

Right now he was bold to the point of reckless; there was nothing he wouldn’t dare do.

Willow’s little face was so red it looked like it might bleed. She opened her mouth to say something, but then caught a flicker of camera light out of the corner of her eye.

Click.

Someone had just taken a picture of her and Morgan.

Willow’s heart lurched. This was the royal residence, and it was the anniversary party. She and Morgan were flat-out cheating here. If that photo got out, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Who on earth was lying in wait here taking photos?

The sudden incident instantly put Willow on high alert.

"Who are you? Come out!" Willow pushed Morgan away and snapped coldly.

The person who’d taken the picture had been about to slip away, but since Willow had already spotted him, he had no choice but to step out. "Princess Consort."

"What did you just take, and who told you to come over here?" Willow asked with a frown.

The man with the camera looked over at Morgan, his eyes and expression respectful. "Young Master, I’ve done what you instructed. The photos are all in the camera."

What?

This was... Morgan’s man?

He was the one who had someone take the photos?

Willow stared at Morgan by her side in absolute shock.