The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

The moment Hertha's eyes met his long, handsome lashes, her heart skipped a beat.

Damn, Alaric knew exactly how irresistible his looks were to her, and he shamelessly used his stunning appearance to lure her in. And she, predictably, fell for it every single time.

It seemed her life was destined to be firmly in his grasp.

"Do you really want to marry me, or is this all some game to you?" Hertha, irritation in her voice, poked Alaric's chest with her index finger, demanding honesty.

She was never one to let conflicts linger; if something bothered her, she'd have it out within two hours, tops!

hand and placed it over his heart, gazing into her eyes with a mischievous glint. His voice, deep and captivating,

Hertha's palm. Thump, thump, thump - each beat seemed to echo her own heart's rhythm, a symphony of attraction. Overwhelmed, Hertha's breath caught in her throat, and she tried to withdraw her hand, only for Alaric to insist on keeping it there, making her

open it up with a scalpel to prove it's true," he declared, half-joking yet intensely serious. His words, meant to reassure, instead startled Hertha, prompting her to yank her hand back. "Are

Alaric countered, a hint of annoyance

and here you are, doubting my intentions," he grumbled, revealing a rare glimpse of his temper. He usually had the patience of a saint with Hertha,

so 'eager' that you overslept this morning and almost forgot about getting our marriage

Alaric; his oversight

over a silly mistake, okay?" he coaxed, enveloping her in a warm embrace. Hertha

more sulking. Let's get ready