The Tyrant Heir's Return: Reclaiming the Thorne Empire

Chapter 4:I Do

"Hiss—"

A collective gasp echoed through the room instantly.

Her face... was covered in twisted, raised burn scars of varying shades—like land that had been kissed by fire and then cruelly abandoned.

Only her bright blue eyes remained, clear as an unpolluted sky, filled with overwhelming pain and faint hope.

Jacob Wilson stumbled back three steps, knocking over a waiter’s tray.

The sound of shattering wine glasses was shrill.

Unconcealed terror and disgust were written all over his face as he shrieked: "Monster! You’re a monster! How could I marry you? Marrying you is worse than marrying a sow!"

His vicious words were like poisoned arrows, piercing the courage Isabella had barely mustered.

Her body swayed violently, and the light in her eyes went out completely—replaced by the lifeless despair of ash.

Jessica hurried to support her, glaring angrily at Jacob. "You bastard! Bella got burned saving someone..."

"Saving someone? Who’d believe that!" Jacob scoffed, cutting her off. "I think she brought it on herself!"

At that moment, a hand reached out, firmly grasping Isabella’s trembling hand.

She looked up through her tears to see Jack standing in front of her.

His gaze didn’t flinch—not with fear, not with disdain—only with deep, reassuring understanding and compassion.

"I do," Jack’s voice was steady and firm, like solid rock. "Isabella Hart, no matter what your face looks like, I’m willing to marry you. In my eyes, your kindness and courage are more precious than any beauty."

Tears poured down Isabella’s face.

For years, except for Jessica, everyone who saw her scars had reacted with fear, disdain, or fake sympathy.

Never had anyone looked at her—at her ugliest, most vulnerable moment—so calmly, so firmly, and said "I do."

Jessica’s eyes also turned red, but she stepped forward, speaking seriously to Jack. "Mr. Brown, Bella can’t take any more hurt. If you’re doing this out of pity or for any other reason, please leave now. If you’re sincere, swear in front of everyone that you’ll always be loyal to her, protect her, and never let her shed another tear!"

Without hesitation, Jack stared into Isabella’s eyes, raising his right hand as if taking an oath in a sacred hall.

His words were clear and weighty: "I, Jack Brown, swear here today. I am willing to marry Isabella Hart as my wife. For better or worse, in wealth or poverty, in health or sickness, I will always be loyal to her, protect her, and never leave her. If I break this oath, I am willing to bear any punishment."

Isabella looked into his deep, sincere eyes, and her last psychological defense crumbled completely.

She threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably—as if pouring out twenty years of grievances.

"I... I do too... Mr. Brown... I’m willing to marry you..."

This embrace, just like the one on the rooftop, filled her with a sense of security.

Jack patted her back gently, whispering in her ear—his voice soft but absolutely confident: "Trust me, Isabella. I’ll heal your scars."

Isabella nodded hard in his arms.

"Heal them? Easy for you to say!" Ethan jumped out again, his tone sarcastic. "Do you know how many top doctors have tried and failed to fix her scars? You think you can do it? Bragging doesn’t cost anything!"

Jack shot Ethan a cold glance.

Ethan immediately fell silent, like a duck whose neck had been squeezed.

Arthur and Richard exchanged a look.

Though they still had doubts about Jack’s mysterious background, his wealth and attitude made him undoubtedly the best choice to solve Isabella’s "problem."

"Good! In that case, we agree to this marriage!" Arthur made the final decision with a bang of his fist.

But Ethan’s eyes turned, and he found a new angle to attack. "Oh, that’s all well and good! You want to take Isabella away and fix her face? Let me ask you—where’s your car? Don’t tell me you’re going to make our Hart family’s young lady take the subway! The Hart family can’t afford that shame!"

Jack smiled faintly. "I didn’t drive today."

Ethan immediately acted as if he’d caught a huge mistake, his voice shrill: "Did everyone hear that? He doesn’t even have a car! He’s a liar, just like I said!"

"I came by private jet," Jack interrupted calmly. "The helicopter’s on the rooftop."

Private jet?

Helicopter?

Ethan and Jacob froze, then their faces filled with disbelief.

"Keep bragging!" Ethan pointed at the hotel manager by the door.

"I just asked— the helicopter on the rooftop belongs to some big shot! What does it have to do with you!"

"Believe it or not—we can go check," Jack said no more.

Taking Isabella’s hand, he added: "Isabella, let’s go. I’ll take you to get the best treatment."

Isabella nodded without hesitation, pulling Jessica along. Arthur, Richard, Martha, Ethan, and Jacob followed, half-convinced, to see if Jack was lying.

The elevator went straight to the top floor.

When the doors opened, the sleek, imposing blue S-92 helicopter came into view instantly.

Its rotor spun slowly, emitting a deep, powerful hum.

Several uniformed staff stood at attention on either side, creating a solemn atmosphere.

Ethan refused to give up.

He secretly took a photo of the helicopter with his phone and searched for it online.

The screen immediately displayed information: [Sikorsky S-92, official price over 30 million U.S. dollars].

His mouth dropped open, and he couldn’t make a sound.

Jacob leaned over to look, and his face turned as pale as a corpse.

The hotel manager, waiting nearby, bowed. "Mr. Brown, pre-flight checks are complete, and the fuel tank is full. We’re ready to take off at any time."

Jack nodded, helping Isabella toward the cabin.

He exchanged a glance with the pilot—one of the top elites of the "Night Alliance" who had fought side by side with him through life and death.

"Let’s get on board," Jack said softly to Isabella.

Isabella followed him closely, boarding the vehicle that symbolized top-tier wealth and power.

The helicopter lifted off slowly.

The strong airflow ruffled the clothes and hair of the people below.

Ethan and Jacob looked up at the blue giant gradually flying away, their faces filled with nothing but shock and confusion.

Isabella waved hard at Jessica through the porthole.

Jack sat beside her, gently taking her hand. "Close your eyes and rest. From today on, no one will ever bully you again."

Isabella looked at his resolute profile, feeling an unprecedented sense of peace and hope.

She leaned on his shoulder as he’d told her, closing her eyes. Maybe—just maybe—her face, and her life, were really about to change.