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The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)

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Chapter 1104

It was Lysander!

When Thalassa caught sight of the figure standing at her door, her heart, which had been pounding in

her chest, eased for a mere moment before tensing up again.

His gaze flickered to the peephole as if he could lock eyes with her through the tiny lens. His deep,

fathomless eyes seemed like pools capable of drawing in one’s very soul.

The sight sent Thalassa’s heart plummeting, panic setting in.

Quickly stepping down from her tiptoes, she averted her gaze from the peephole, her hand instinctively

smoothing over the frantic beating of her heart.

Separated by merely a door, Thalassa’s pulse raced like a drum at the proximity of Lysander.

If she had refused to open the door, it might have further provoked him. He was still polite enough to

ring the doorbell, but if she hadn’t caught the hint and let him in, it would only

take him a second to tear the door down.

Just a door, after all, couldn’t possibly have stood in Lysander’s way.

Surrendering to the inevitable, Thalassa opened the door, revealing the tall, commanding figure before

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her. His towering presence immediately filled the space, casting his shadow over Thalassa’s petite

form.

Her already anxious heart contracted, and she forced a welcoming smile, unaware of how awkward

and fearful it appeared.

“Oh, it’s you, Lysander. What brings you here?”

His piercing gaze swept over her feigned smile, and he stepped inside.

Thalassa instinctively moved aside, making room for him to pass. As Lysander crossed the threshold,

the breeze that followed him brushed against Thalassa’s face, the sheer force of his presence causing

her breath to hitch.

The air felt invaded as he entered, the atmosphere growing tense.

Evelyn, who had been terrified it might be Bruce at the door, sprang up from her seat upon seeing

Lysander, masking her fear with a forced warmth. “Lysander, what a surprise.”

Her eyes darted to the dining table, spotting the half-finished bowl of spaghetti Thalassa had left

untouched.

Trying to be hospitable, she offered, “Have you had dinner yet? Thalassa hasn’t finished hers, and

there’s more in the pot. Would you like me to fix you a bowl?”

Before Evelyn could get an answer, Thalassa interjected, “Oh, it’s late; Mr. Sinclair must

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Chapter 1104

have already dined. Besides, a simple bowl of spaghetti hardly suits Mr. Sinclair’s refined palate, right,

Mr. Sinclair?”

Thalassa stepped forward, positioning herself in front of Evelyn as if to shield her from any fallout of

Lysander’s potential wrath.

Her words, though gentle and seemingly supportive of Lysander, carried subtle tones of mockery upon

closer inspection.

Lysander’s deep gaze turned towards her, and she sported a smile on her lips. Her clear, cold eyes met

his with an air of detachment.

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Recalling the aversion he had once expressed for humble meals during a visit to her family in

Hollowbrook, Thalassa was now using his own words to taunt him.

She really knew how to hold a grudge, remembering it even after a considerable amount of time had

passed.

Thalassa held her head high, unflinchingly meeting Lysander’s gaze, and made no move to

retract her words.

Lysander, recognizing her defiance, was the first to look away, addressing Evelyn, “Actually, I haven’t

eaten.”

Caught off guard, Evelyn quickly recovered, “Right away, then. I’ll just go warm it up for you.”

She hurried to the kitchen, leaving Thalassa with a furrowed brow, blinking in disbelief. Hadn’t she

made it clear enough that Lysander wasn’t welcome to dine here?

As Thalassa pondered his audacity, she noticed Lysander settling into the very chair she had occupied

before, picking up a fork and helping himself to the spaghetti on the table.

She gasped, “That’s my dish.”

Lysander simply glanced at her, silent, and continued to eat.