The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet novel Chapter 1239

Georgia was fuming, her heart seething with thoughts of revenge. Learning that Alaric frequented nightclubs and had a string of casual flings that often ended in one-night stands, she decided to get even, sleeping with her dates.

Alaric's face was taut with tension when he learned it. He had also been with Hertha and knew too well that there would be no signs of virginity to be discerned if it was Hertha with him last night. This left him unable to figure out who he had actually spent the previous night with.

Hertha was totally drunk and clueless about what happened, while Georgia adamantly claimed it was her who had been with him. Despite his fragmented memory and the hazy recollections from the alcohol, Alaric couldn't be sure.

Irritated, he splashed water on his face and said, “Look, Georgia, you know I see a lot of women. Sleeping together doesn't mean anything.”

His words cut deep, and Georgia couldn't hold back any longer. She lashed out, her voice rising with indignation, “Alaric, what the hell are you trying to say? That you can just hit it and quit it? We were practically engaged, remember?”

Alaric's pet peeve was Georgia's high-maintenance attitude, her tendency to raise hell over anything. Her shrill voice was giving him a headache.

Covering his ears with his hands, he waited for her tirade to subside before finally letting go. Standing up and turning his back to her, he said, “It's getting late. We should both head home.”

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving Georgia alone with her grievances.

“Alaric, why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?” Georgia shouted after his retreating figure, tears streaming down her face. In response, she only heard the door slam shut.

Alaric was gone, without offering a single word of comfort to her.

Devastated, Georgia collapsed into sobs.

Meanwhile, Hertha left the hotel, not bothering to hail a cab. She walked on so fast that she couldn't feel the pebbles against her feet. Despite knowing that Alaric had been with other women, and even more intimately with Georgia, seeing them together was too much for her. Her heart was in agony, and she walked on aimlessly, not knowing where she was going or what she intended to do.

In that moment, the noises around her seemed distant and irrelevant. Her world was consumed by a fierce, heartbreaking pain.

“Ah!” Hertha stumbled on a stone step, falling forward and catching herself with her hands. The sharp stones pierced her palms and drew blood.

Sitting on the steps, she stared at the blood oozing from the wound in her palm. The physical pain seeped into her heart, and she finally broke down in tears.

"Ow, ow, it hurts so much," Hertha cried out loud.

“Mommy, look at that lady. She fell down and now she's crying. I don't cry when I fall. Is it because I'm brave?” A young boy passing by with her mother pointed out Hertha's plight. The little boy's voice was soft and proud as he claimed his own courage, contrasting with Hertha's tears.