The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Chapter 1100

Thalassa had said it plainly enough, but her actions could only cause Susan pain without actually tearing her mouth.

If her intent was genuine, she would’ve grabbed each side with her hands and yanked outward with all her might, easily tearing it.

“Thalassa, you’ve lost it! Let go of me!” Susan’s teeth chattered with pain, yet her defiance. was unyielding.

“I’ve gone mad, sure, but killing you wouldn’t even be a crime!” Thalassa yanked Susan’s head back by her hair with one hand while the other clawed at her face, pulling hard.

Susan’s face, already stinging from a prior slap, throbbed with pain as Thalassa’s fury became evident. If Susan didn’t back down, Thalassa might actually follow through with her threat.

Susan was a master of deception and manipulation, skilled at taking verbal hits if it meant securing her own safety.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she blurted, trying to appease Thalassa. “You’re the bigger person here, don’t stoop to my level. I swear, I won’t breathe a word of this to my dad. If he asks about my injuries, I’ll just say it was a workplace spat, you know, just colleagues clashing.”

Thalassa’s rage cooled slightly upon hearing the plea, and she released Susan. She dusted off her hands with a look of revulsion, as if Susan herself was filth.

Thalassa snorted contemptuously, sparing Susan one last glance before striding out of the restroom.

was her rage. Yet Thalassa wasn’t irrational enough

daughter, loved and needed by many. She couldn’t afford to

how much she loathed Susan, Thalassa restrained herself from causing serious

Her hands clenched so tightly on the cold marble floor

and head, compounded by her inner turmoil,

she register the pain in her hands when her entire being was

a feral

her feet, she caught her reflection in the mirror, observing her disheveled appearance. Her cheeks bore the stark imprint of Thalassa’s hand, swollen like a

rage even further, her breaths coming in

luck- not only stooping to some demeaning commercial for a

What a curse!

heading for the curb to hail

It was Lysander.

skipped a beat; even a call

answered, “What’s