Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband Chapter 1478: Strangers When We Meet Again

Willow Crawford pressed her lips together, her pearly teeth sinking into her skin. A wave of pain, so intense it bordered on numbness, washed over her. Yet, with slow, deliberate movements, she began to pry Morgan Ashworth’s fingers apart. "Morgan, I truly dislike seeing you like this. Pull yourself together; don't make me lose respect for you."

With those words spoken, she turned and walked away.

The villa door slammed shut behind her with a resounding crash, plunging Morgan into darkness as her presence vanished from his sight.

From that moment on, his world was reduced to a stark landscape of black and white.

Morgan could only register a sharp, metallic tang in his throat. Reaching up, he touched his lips, only to find them slick with blood.

Tonight, the cold rain mingled with his tears and fresh blood, an icy sensation against his skin. For years, nightmares of five years prior had jolted him awake, but now, he understood that those past trials paled in comparison to his present suffering.

If he had foreseen this outcome, he would have embraced death five years ago.

Morgan’s eyes fluttered shut, and he collapsed to the ground.

"Master!"

...

A raging fever consumed Morgan, reaching a staggering 42 degrees. It refused to break, trapping him in a cycle of tormenting nightmares where he incessantly called out "Willow" in his sleep.

In his insensible state, he perceived the prick of needles, desperately wishing for the intrusion to cease. He harbored no desire to awaken, absolutely none.

Yet, he found himself utterly devoid of strength. Those needles exerted a relentless force, dragging him back from the brink.

Morgan’s eyelids fluttered open to find himself back in his room. The air was now thick with the sterile scent of disinfectant, an IV drip connected to his hand.

"Miles, you’ve finally come around," the Elder stated, stepping forward with evident concern etched on his face.

Morgan’s gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, his entire being feeling utterly vacant.

"Miles, you wished to see Willow, and an arrangement has been made. Now, you must let go of your grievances. The venom within you is worsening. Quickly, take this pill." The Elder presented the third pill that Willow had provided.

The Elder had already solicited the opinions of renowned physicians who had examined it. While its precise components remained a mystery, they unanimously confirmed it was not poison but a remarkable antidote.

Slowly, Morgan pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes falling upon the pill residing within the exquisite box. Compared to the two preceding it, this pill radiated a more vibrant crimson hue, as if meticulously crafted from pure blood, exuding an alluring charm.

With a dismissive flick of his hand, Morgan sent the pill tumbling.

It rolled across the plush carpet, coming to a stop a short distance away.

The Elder’s expression shifted dramatically. "Miles, have you lost your mind? This is the antidote! Willow poisoned you five years ago; this is what she owes you. Why would you refuse it?"

The Elder cautiously retrieved the pill, placing it back into its ornate container.

Morgan’s face was stark white and gaunt, a testament to his severe dehydration. His lips, thin and parched, were cracked and peeling. "I want nothing from her," he rasped.

The Elder let out a sharp scoff. "You may want nothing from her, but what about the child? Do you have no desire for the child?"

The child…

These simple words struck Morgan like a physical blow, causing his heart to seize. The undeniable truth was that this child resonated with a deep, hidden tenderness within him; it was his blood, his offspring.

"Miles, that is your child, our heir. I care not for any other matter; you must reclaim the child from Willow. Custody rightfully belongs to us," the Elder insisted, his resolve firm regarding the child – it was, after all, Morgan’s firstborn.

Utterly drained, Morgan closed his eyes. The embers of affection had long since been extinguished; what remained was merely a bitter custody battle.

The child, still ensconced within Willow’s womb, had not yet drawn its first breath, and already it was being forced to choose between its father and mother. How profoundly unfair this was for the innocent being.

Morgan curled into himself, a sharp ache piercing his heart. He recalled the initial days of Willow's pregnancy, the tender moments they’d shared, the name he had lovingly chosen for their son – all now relegated to the realm of distant, faded memories.

The sweetness of those past moments only amplified the exquisite pain he felt in the present.

...

Willow, too, was experiencing a severe decline in her health. Having willingly drawn forth the third drop of her heart's blood, her entire being was weakening, leaving her face ashen, like that of a ghost.

Serena Sterling found herself compelled to utilize numerous rare and precious herbs to concoct a medicine, the sole purpose of which was to sustain Willow's life. Without it, not only the child in her womb but both of them faced the terrifying prospect of death.

Willow could no longer muster the strength to leave her bed or move about; her existence was confined to the sickbed. Aside from Serena, no one else was granted entry.

Her thoughts were consumed with worry for Morgan, desperately wondering if he had ingested the third pill. Should he have refused it, all her strenuous efforts and profound sacrifices would ultimately prove to be in vain.

One day, as Serena approached with a bowl of acrid medicine, Willow’s first question was, "Mommy, how is Morgan? Did he take the third pill?"

Serena softly shook her head. "No."

"What? Why would he refuse the pill? I understand; he's still furious with me and intends to punish me with this refusal."

"Willow, Morgan’s people sent word that he is willing to take the pill, but only under one condition."

"And what condition is that? As long as he agrees to take the pill, I will consent to anything."

"Morgan demands your child."

What?

Willow’s body went rigid, frozen in disbelief.

"Willow, Morgan stated he wishes for the child's custody. If you hand the child over to him, he will take the pill, and then you will both be free from each other, destined to meet as strangers again."

Did he truly say those words? Free from each other, to become strangers once more?

Willow's normally pale eyes began to redden; she understood that Morgan had completely given up this time. The past, after all, would eventually be swept away by the winds of time.

Willow's hand gently rested on her abdomen; she resolved to fight with all her strength to protect this child, but she knew her duty was only to safeguard him until birth. Afterward, his future would be placed in his father's care.

Even if Morgan hadn't requested it, she intended to give the child to him; only then could her heart find true peace.

She was not afraid. She knew Morgan would be a good father, and the child would have the formidable support of his maternal family. Even without a mother's presence, he would still grow up healthy, happy, and strong.

Good.

That would be good enough.

A faint, gentle curve formed on Willow's lips. "Okay, I agree. Give him the child."

...

At that precise moment, Morgan stood by the expansive floor-to-ceiling window, clad in thin attire. Eleven entered silently and reported, "Master, we have received a response from Madame."

Morgan turned his head to face Eleven, his voice rough and strained, "What did she say?"

"Master, Madame has agreed. She will give you the child after you take the pill, and subsequently, you will both be free from each other."

She agreed?

She actually agreed.

Morgan remained lost in thought for a moment. After a considerable pause, a low, hoarse laugh escaped his throat. Huh.

She was truly ruthless.

Acting with such decisive finality, leaving absolutely no room for negotiation.

Morgan's gaze drifted out the window as he muttered, "Very well, this time, it shall be as she wishes."

No matter how deeply he had loved her in the past, from this moment forward, he would erase her completely from his heart.

If it were at all possible, Morgan harbored a fervent wish that he had never encountered this woman named Willow Crawford.

"Master, here is the pill." Eleven presented the pill and a glass of water to him.

Morgan accepted the pill, placed it into his mouth, and washed it down with the water.