The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Hertha furrowed her brows, deep in thought. Three years ago, after a night of too many shots with Alaric, they ended up at a hotel. It was a one-time thing. Could it really have been that night?

Before Hertha could voice her doubts, the receptionist continued, "At that time, Mr. Falconer and you didn't have any ID on you but still wanted to check into the hotel. Normally, we can't allow guests without ID, but I must admit, Mr. Falconer's looks were quite persuasive, and I, maybe a bit too charmed, bent the rules for you two."

"Since you were a man and a woman together, I assigned you a twin room," the receptionist said, stealing a glance at Alaric with a hint of concern.

A twin room means there are two separate beds in it.

The receptionist had her own little crush. She was so taken by Alaric's good looks and thought, if she gave them a double bed, would something happen between them?

She didn't want such a handsome guy to end up with another woman, especially not on her watch.

So, with a bit of personal bias, she decided on a twin room for them.

receptionist's shy, admiring gaze and shot

warning-keep

at the hotel with Alaric. The next morning, with her hangover barely faded, she woke up to find Alaric and Georgia in the same bed. That painful,

an insurmountable barrier in her heart, making it impossible

same hotel

erratic,

sharp aura enveloped

to ease the awkwardness, continued to explain to Hertha, "Later, another woman came looking for Mr. Falconer, saying she was a friend of yours and his. Net her go up. Just a few minutes after she did, the cops showed up to check on our guest registration. Since I had checked you in without IDs, worried about the repercussions, I called your room. It was

Georgia?"

overwhelmed with grief to piece