The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet novel Chapter 426

Hearing Hertha's voice, Thalassa struggled to suppress the fear welling up within her. "Hertha," she said, "I've got a bit of an emergency and need to head home. I won't be staying over tonight. Don't fret if you don't see me in the morning."

As she spoke, Thalassa cast a glance at Lysander, whose intense gaze was trained on her. It was like an invisible blade, cold and sharp, pressing against her throat.

Her heart pounded in her chest like a ping-pong ball, bouncing back and forth, as if she was a Thanksgiving turkey being prepped for the oven.

She prayed fervently that Hertha would shake off her sleepiness and realize the urgency in her voice. Otherwise, neither of them would stand a chance.

The air in the confined space was heavy with tension. Thalassa could hear her own heartbeat, loud and erratic, as if her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

Lysander's eyes never left her, and the oppressive feeling grew stronger.

Just as Thalassa felt her nerves stretched to their limit, Hertha's voice came over the phone. "Oh, I had dozed off. Why do you need to go back so late? Is it something important, or did I miss something?"

Hearing Hertha's words, Thalassa felt her nerves loosen in relief. She was grateful for her best friend's intuition and understanding.

"No, no, it's just that I forgot to bring the clothes I need for work tomorrow. I even had to borrow your dress for a shower. I figured I'd save myself the rush in the morning and head back now," Thalassa explained.

"Alright then, we'll have you over some other time," Hertha said.

"Sounds good. You get back to sleep, okay? Goodnight." With that, Thalassa hung up the phone first.

Thalassa turned her clear eyes towards Lysander, as if to say 'See, I wasn't lying'.

But before she could speak, Lysander's hand cradled the back of her head, drawing her closer to him.

Thalassa's heart leaped into her throat, her eyes wide with surprise. She held her breath, bracing herself for a kiss.

However, just as their faces were mere inches apart, Lysander's hand stilled. He brushed away the hair from her forehead, his movements assertive yet gentle.