The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Thalassa had so much faith in her, and Lydia knew she needed to muster up some of that confidence in herself too.

Taking a deep breath, Lydia looked Lysander squarely in the eyes and said, "If you're willing to put your trust in me, I'm confident I can hit every single point with precision!"

"Being precise doesn't necessarily mean you can cure him," Rosalind interjected, aiming to undercut Lydia's confidence.

"No doctor can guarantee a hundred percent cure rate to their patients," Lydia responded firmly. "All we can do is give it our all..."

"So, after all is said and done, you're just using Lysander as your guinea pig. My Lysander is too noble to be treated like a lab rat!"

"Rosalind, give it a rest," Lysander remarked, his gaze stern as he glanced at Rosalind, a subtle reprimand in his eyes.

Rosalind felt a lump form in her throat, overwhelmed by a sense of injustice. She was only trying to look out for Lysander, and yet, he was reprimanding her! Couldn't he see how much she cared for him? With a huff, Rosalind turned her back, refusing to look at Lysander, sulking silently.

Thalassa watched anxiously, unsure of what Lysander's decision would be. She hoped he would agree to Lydia's treatment, especially since Dr. Funke was completely off the grid, engrossed in researching her aunt's illness. If he wasn't willing, no one could persuade him otherwise.

Lysander's voice, deep and

then, overwhelmed with joy. Lysander was willing to let her proceed!

admired filled Lydia with both excitement and happiness, more thrilling

at Thalassa, noticing her tense expression melting away into

G

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precise points to insert them. Just as she was about to proceed, a sudden wave of nervousness washed over her. Despite several attempts, she couldn't

Lysander had agreed to her treatment, the thought of him being such a respected and stern leader weighed heavily on

laps with weights?" Lysander's authoritative voice

her doubts to focus solely on the task at hand, following the procedure she

hand now found its mark on Lysander's head with precision and speed. There was no hesitation; the needle's placement was perfect,

was holding a firearm at a shooting range, initially hesitant to shoot. But at the commander's order, she focused intently, squeezed the trigger, and hit