The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Thalassa had been counting down the days, and finally, Saturday arrived.

She was up at the crack of dawn, 6 a.m., rifling through her wardrobe, trying on several outfits but not quite satisfied with any.

At last, she settled on a youthful avocado-green coat paired with off-white wide-leg pants and a matching trendy sweater.

Standing by the mirror, she examined herself from every angle but still wasn't pleased. Frowning, she felt at a loss over what to wear next.

Behind her, Lysander rolled up in his wheelchair, dressed as impeccably as ever in a handmade black suit and a deep blue tie, exuding an air of aristocratic sophistication without even trying.

Thalassa caught sight of him in the mirror and turned around, their eyes meeting. Suddenly, she felt a little vulnerable and walked over with a slight pout that she herself hadn't noticed, her voice carrying a hint of coquetry.

you think looks better on me? I can't seem to find the perfect one," she said, squatting next to his wheelchair and resting her hand on its armrest, her clear,

grown so much, and I... I must have aged. I don't want them to see an older version of

still so young. Where's this 'old' coming from? Don't worry. No matter what, you'll always be the best

that her children's love for her

you think about this outfit?" After pondering for a moment, Thalassa stood up and twirled in front of Lysander, hoping for

an indulgent smile, Lysander commented, "You look great,

and three-et compliments in a row at that! like this outfit is a winner. I'm sticking with it,"

with a servant loading a pile of

with anticipation and

she last saw her little darlings. Last time, she had

that much, the others must have