Chapter 370

The man on the other end of the line was as cold as a winter wind, chilling to the bone.

His voice was icy and devoid of warmth as he commanded, “From now on, not even a grain of bread should reach her!”

Fitch felt a chill running down his spine, his heart pounding for Thalassa, but he dared not defy Lysander’s orders. He managed a response, “Yes, Mr. Sinclair”

The line went dead before he could finish his statement.

Fitch looked up at Thalassa, her chest heaving, her eyes filled with anger yet a glimmer of hope.

Feeling sorry, Fitch suggested, “Ms. Everhart, perhaps you should rest in your room.

Upon hearing his words, Thalassa knew she had failed.

She had used hunger as a weapon, yet Lysander still refused to let her go.

Thalassa clenched her fists, her heart aching with pain and anger. Her breathing became heavy as she stood there, processing the harsh reality.

she turned on her

for help, but her phone had

a suitable charger, but

but neither of them can be used.

was dead. Without a charger, she was cut off from the outside

anxiety grew stronger, and she found

bedroom, her heart

flew by, and soon it

no one came looking for

she didn’t exist in the Royal

the sun set, nightfall

tense with the thought of Lysander’s

to face the reality. Come seven in the

engine of his car in

already taut nerves wound tighter as she

listening to the faint

and a wave of cold, intimidating air swept

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