The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet novel Chapter 998

Thalassa indeed felt a bit hungry. Breakfast had been a light affair, because her appetite squashed under the weight of Lysander's watchful gaze. Now, as the clock struck two in the afternoon, she realized she had skipped lunch entirely.

The meal on the dining table did not interest her at all, but her taste buds sprang to life when Susan brought over a slice of cake. Her stomach growled—not just from hunger, but also because of her newfound penchant for sweets. The mere scent of sugar was enough to pique her appetite.

Thalassa received the chocolate cake, and her fingers reached for the fork that was stuck jauntily into the frosting.

Susan stood by her side, a friendly smile painted on her face, though inside she was practically bursting with malice. "Go on, eat up, Thalassa." she thought smugly, "You country bumpkin! Dog shit is all you deserve. You are going to taste it soon, but still, you will have to thank me for bringing you the cake. Thalassa, you’re no match for me!"

She watched, barely containing her glee and waiting for Thalassa to take a bite. But to her surprise, Thalassa let go of the fork and offered the cupcake back to her.

"It’s your favorite, Susan. I couldn't possibly snatch them from you. You cut this piece, so you must have wanted it yourself, right? Here, you should have it."

Thalassa extended the cake toward Susan. She smiled with icy scrutiny in her eyes. She dared not to trust a soul in Bruce's family.

Just moments ago, Susan had been malicious to her. And now, after a brief trip to the kitchen, why she returned with sudden kindness?

The false warmth in Susan's smile made Thalassa's skin crawl. It was not Thalassa's first confrontation with the Bruce clan — she had learned to spot their feigned enthusiasm from a mile away. The warmer their smiles, the deeper their scheming.

And Susan, with her sugary words and radiant smile, seemed a little too eager. Something was definitely off.

Could this cupcake be poisoned? Thalassa mused inwardly. She wouldn't put it past Susan to serve her something laced with ill intent.