The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Just moments after she had stepped inside, Thalassa found herself hurrying out again, her eyes fixed on the ground in a vain attempt to hide the tears that threatened to spill. With a voice she forced to be calm, she said, "No, it's fine, I'll just catch a cab back."

Brushing past the bodyguard, she quickened her pace towards the sidewalk.

Back at Royal Estates, Lysander had gestured for Rosalind to head upstairs alone. He stood by the door, his gaze lingering on the cobblestone path illuminated by street lamps, his handsome face taut with tension, his eyes as deep and stormy as the ocean.

Thalassa finally stopped at the base of the hill, collapsing onto an old bench, its paint faded by the sun to a dull red. The dam holding back her emotions finally broke, and tears fell in heavy drops, darkening the wood with their wetness.

It was as if the pain soaked into the very depths of her heart, growing heavier with each moment of accumulation.

Once, escaping Lysander's orbit, breaking free from his presence, was all she ever dreamed of.

that dream only to witness him with another woman, the

carve such a deep niche in her heart? The thought of

to regain some semblance of control. Only then did she realize how leaden her legs

in her haste and distress, Thalassa had

her sore knees, she tried to soothe the physical ache that mirrored

do

their right, and she, now merely an outsider, had no place in their

bed when her phone's insistent ringing woke

Hertha's voice was a mixture of shock

confused, Thalassa