The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Alaric kissed her with such fervor that it nearly took Hertha's breath away. Yet, Hertha could tell that this kiss, contrary to his passionate declarations, lacked the sweetness of genuine desire. It felt more forced than spontaneous.

Hertha felt like she was suffocating under his intense kiss. She quickly raised her hands, her fingers entwining in Alaric's hair, gripping his head, and pushed him away forcefully. Free from the kiss, Hertha gasped for air and glared at Alaric above her. "Have you lost your mind?"

Alaric, too, was breathing heavily, his seductive eyes shimmering, locked onto Hertha below him. "If you keep ignoring me, I might actually lose it. Tell me, are you mad at me?"

He wasn't afraid of Hertha confronting him; he was terrified of her indifference. Looking at Alaric's earnest and somewhat innocent expression, Hertha felt a tug at her heartstrings. His good looks had always been her weakness; a single innocent glance from him, and she'd melt. She couldn't bring herself to leave him. The only option was to confront the issues head-on.

Taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart, Hertha asked, "How many times have you been with Georgia?"

gaze growing anxious. "Why would you

Georgia now

still cradled Alaric's head, fingers woven through his hair - a gesture intimate

to get mad," Alaric pleaded, his pursuit of Hertha fueled by a mix of

Hertha's heart raced, the moment of truth making her increasingly nervous. How many times would be acceptable to her? She didn't have an answer. All she knew was the

Alaric finally spoke, "Just once, three

a beat, her breathing halted. She pressed, barely whispering,