The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet novel Chapter 2087

Thalassa and Lysander stepped into the room, only to find a scene that left Thalassa both shocked and amused.

A man, shirtless, revealing his entire upper body, lay face-down on a single bed, his back a patchwork of blues and purples, dotted with a myriad of acupuncture needles. The man's face was turned to the side, his handsome features twisted in pain like a sour lemon, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes, making him look both pitiful and laughable.

Meanwhile, Lydia, clad in a crisp white lab coat, held a silver needle in her hand, poised to insert another into the man's lower back. With precision and decisiveness, she swiftly inserted the needle. The man's back twitched, and he let out a howl of agony: "Ahh!"

As he attempted to bolt up from the bed, Lydia, anticipating his movement, quickly pressed down on an area free of needles to keep him from rising, exclaiming, "Lie down, will you? Stop fidgeting! I'm targeting your 'dead kidney' zone. Do you want to lose your kidneys or what?"

Subdued by Lydia's firm hands and her authoritative words, the man lay back down, whimpering pitifully. From the moment Thalassa had entered, she recognized the man on the bed under Lydia's ministrations as Ethan, the CEO of the Crawley Group!

Ethan used to be Thalassa's boss, always impeccably dressed, suave and dashing. She had never seen him in such a comical state before. Unable to hold it in, Thalassa burst into laughter.

Her laughter caught the attention of Lydia and Lysander. Lydia turned around, her face lighting up with joy upon seeing Thalassa, but then tensed up when she noticed Lysander, standing tall and alert. "Oh... Mr. Sinclair!"

She had almost slipped into a more formal title, recalling Lysander's previous reminder to avoid military or official titles, quickly correcting herself to call him Mr. Sinclair.

Ethan, too, quickly sat up, embarrassed to be seen in such a disheveled state by old friends. He reached for his shirt at his feet but, with his back full of needles like a porcupine, found he couldn't possibly put it on. He let out a sigh, abandoning the attempt, and his usual confident demeanor was replaced with awkwardness.

"Lysander, Thalassa, what brings you here?" Ethan greeted them, covering his face with his hand, mortified by his earlier display of distress. He wished for a hole to swallow him up.

"Hmm," was all Lysander uttered, a man of few words, never one to mock his friends.

Thalassa picked up on Ethan's discomfort and, trying to ease the situation, took Lydia aside to ask, "We came looking for Dr. Funke and my aunt. Haven’t seen them around, have you?"

"Dr. Funke and your aunt stepped out," Lydia replied.

"To do what?" Thalassa asked, curious.

Lydia suddenly realized her words might have led to a misunderstanding and quickly clarified, "An old lady from their line dancing group had a stroke suddenly. Dr. Funke and your aunt went to treat her at her home."

"My aunt’s line dancing now?" Thalassa’s eyes sparkled with joy. Her aunt had been suffering from rheumatism, her mobility severely limited. Walking too much was a challenge, let alone dancing, which demands so much legwork. But now her aunt was dancing? This was a delightful surprise for Thalassa.

"Yes, Dr. Funke has been treating her personally. Your aunt’s quite nimble on her feet now," Lydia shared the good news.

As they walked out, Lydia, curious, whispered to Thalassa, "So, are you and Mr. Sinclair married now?" The last time Thalassa had been in town to pick up some documents, Lydia had run into her and learned about her plans to marry Lysander. Naturally, she was very curious.

"Never mind about me for now. What’s going on with you and Mr. Ethan?" Thalassa was even more curious about Lydia and Ethan’s relationship.