The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

"Thalassa, you could've just admitted it," Richard Draven said, initially eager to stick around for the drama until Lysander's icy glare hit him.

Rubbing his nose, he added, "Uh, I've got things to handle back at my antique store. Take it easy, Lysander."

No sooner had he spoken than Lysander grabbed a fork from the dining table and hurled it his way.

Luckily for Richard, he was quick on his feet; otherwise, he'd have been hit.

Getting involved in Lysander's personal drama was like playing with fire, and Richard knew it too well. But then again, Lysander's drama was the kind everyone secretly wanted a piece of, given how rare it was Thalassa sat there, head bowed, biting her lower lip, her hands on her lap twisted in nervous tension, bearing the weight of Lysander's piercing gaze as if it was tearing her apart. Moments before, she was passionately defending herself, but now, faced with a circular pendant and an unexpected addition of twenty thousand dollars to her account, she was at a loss for words.

oppressive gaze then shifted to Fitch, who was waiting on the

circular pendant with both hands, and headed to the backyard, his back drenched in sweat. He had been pondering over how to investigate the theft of the circular pendant, but in

dining table. The air around Thalassa felt oppressively thick, a sharp, chilling gaze drilling into her,

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conflicted, her fists clenched tighter, breathing becoming erratic, with nothing to say. She couldn't explain. If

nothing but hatred, using her as an outlet for his anger. If he found out about the four children she bore him, even if he didn't care

his jaw, his presence becoming even more foreboding as he grabbed her wrist. His rough palm, calloused and strong, made Thalassa's heart skip a beat. She looked up to meet his furious gaze, her body