The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Thalassa had been swamped lately, pouring her soul into designing drafts and competing. She hadn't even thought to check in with Lydia. "Lysander, the turnout today is insane, just look at the sea of contestants," Rosalind struck up a conversation, trying to break the ice.

Her words were bubbling with excitement, yet no reply came. Snapping back to reality, she turned to Lysander, only to find him staring intently in a particular direction, his gaze deep and thoughtful, as if he was lost in something profound.

Curiosity piqued, Rosalind followed his gaze, and her eyes landed on Thalassa, seated in a spot that was hard to miss!

Even from the back and side, Rosalind recognized her instantly. Thalassa's pure aura was unmistakable. Her slightly chubby cheeks, her skin glowing like the moon, and her hair tied in the simplest ponytail made her look innocently youthful, almost like a high schooler!

Even Rosalind, another woman, couldn't help but steal more glances, let alone a man?

Seeing Thalassa, Rosalind's previously buoyant mood plummeted, a wave of irritation surging within her.

Her breathing became erratic, and her eyes darkened with jealousy and anger as she glared at Thalassa, her grip tightening on the armrests of her wheelchair.

the VIP section, right this way, please," the event organizer invited Rosalind and Lysander

Thalassa, separated only by an aisle. Lysander merely needed to glance

way Lysander looked at Thalassa, with such focus and depth. Her heart already swirling with jealousy and rage, she now had to sit next to Thalassa with Lysander. How could Rosalind accept

told the organizer, "This spot is too busy. If someone bumps into Lysander, that wouldn't be good.

How about that spot over there? It's much quieter," the organizer said,

succinctly, his gaze fixed on the stage ahead, showing no intention of

and bowing only to receive a two-word response from Lysander, he turned

smiled at Lysander, "I'm just thinking of your

to start," Lysander interrupted, motioning for her to take the seat

found herself unable to voice them, feeling stifled but forced to maintain a facade of grace and poise She nodded at the organizer,

if you need anything," the organizer said, leaving