The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Alaric Falconer deftly caught the lettuce she tossed his way and dunked it into the hotpot, his smile unwavering. "I didn't say a thing. You're the one jumping to conclusions." "See? Always acting innocent and then playing the blame game. Good thing I cut my losses early," Hertha Kensington huffed, rolling her eyes at Alaric.

Words spoken without intent, heard with deep meaning.

Hertha's remark momentarily froze Alaric, his heart tightening as he turned his slender, hawk-like gaze towards her.

A shadow of sorrow and depth lingered in his eyes.

Was it his fault that Hertha wouldn't be with him?

Did her words mean her affection for him started with his looks but ended with his personality?

"Why are you looking at me like that? I'm just stating the facts! Go ask any of your exes, they all think the same," Hertha said between bites, never missing a chance to tease him.

Alaric had a thick skin; nothing she said could

him was Hertha's favorite

mouth silently and continued

all he had to do was adjust his behavior to match her preferences. It was better than

Rosalind and Thalassa seated in the back. Rosalind kept her distance

hide her discomfort any longer. "Bro, Thalassa has

NOW PLAY YOUR

FAVOURITE GAMES ON

on his last breath, having Thalassa by his side would mean he could die peacefully," Reginald replied, his grip on the steering wheel firm. "Stop talking nonsense! Dad's going to be fine," Rosalind

silent, her brows knit together in worry, her hands unconsciously