Chapter 1221

Callum’s breath hitched, pain lacing through his body with each labored inhale. Tremors ran down his spine as he caught sight of Lysander and Thalassa lost in each other’s embrace

Lysander held Thalassa tightly, his kisses fierce and passionate, while Thalassa gently cradled his face, eagerly responding to his fervor.

The two were in their own world, their kisses deep and full of desire. The heavy, ragged breaths that they shared were audible in the quiet of the room, telling tales of longing and possession.

Callum felt a tremor go through his body, which suddenly seized up at the sight. A dark shadow flickered across his usually warm eyes.

He clenched his teeth, his body rigid with the effort of holding himself together.

“Mr. Gordon, your hand looks really bad. Let me call 911 for you,” a concerned waiter said, noticing Callum’s limp hand.

The waiter kept his eyes downcast, not daring to look at Lysander and Thalassa, who were still entwined. Lysander’s earlier aura of menace had the waiter on edge, afraid that even a glance might be seen as an insult that it could result in a broken wrist like Mr. Gordon.

Lysander and Thalassa, who were still locked in a fiery kiss. His eyes betrayed a restrained torment, and

pain to speak, the waiter took the

anger around him,

weak in the knees, breathless from his intense affection, did

frame, spent, while Lysander’s large hand stayed pressed against her back, keeping her close.

turned icy as he looked back at Callum, as if none of the passion

shoulder, scooped Thalassa into his arms and strode out

behind, Callum slumped against a chair, his good hand clenched into

he silently

eye caught a sharp glint. The injuries he’d sustained

meant that Thalassa would see Lysander’s true colors how brutal, cold, and ruthless he could be then

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