Chapter 547
He could feel the chilling frost through the line.
Realizing Lysander’s tone was fraught with anger, Alaric chuckled, “You heard me right. Your girl is at the bar, just made a pass at a young lad. She’s got him so angry that he’s ready to
take her to a motel.”
A motel?
Those words stung Lysander’s ears, piercing straight through his heart.
Fury simmered within his chest.
Lysander gritted his teeth, his voice icy, “Where?”
“Midnight Mirage.” Alaric said.
Once the call ended, Alaric turned his gaze toward her and was startled by the close proximity of Thalassa. She was almost pressing her face against his phone.
Luckily he just turned his gaze; if he jerked his head, he might have accidentally kissed her.
This was Lysander’s girl so he dared not cross the line.
“Thalassa, what the hell are you doing? You scared the daylights out of me.” Alaric stepped back, taking a deep breath.
Thalassa was tipsy, her eyes half-closed as she looked at him, nervous yet hopeful, “Is Lysander coming? Will he really come?”
Throughout the day, she had tried everything she could think of to see Lysander, to talk to him about seeing their children.
In response, Lysander had cut off all contact.
He refused to meet her and wouldn’t even answer her calls no matter what. He was as cold and detached as if they had never known each other.
She heard what Alaric said about her. But she didn’t quite hear Lysander’s response. So she had no idea if he would come.
She was both jittery and sad.
Alaric was about to reply when a commotion from the dance floor caught his attention. Hertha’s shriek echoed louder than the rock music.
“Ah, pervert!”
Her voice strained Alaric’s nerves; as he turned his head towards the dance floor, Thalassa mirrored his actions.
Hertha was holding a young man’s hand, glaring at him with rage, “You touched my butt, you filthy pervert!”
Her outburst attracted a crowd.
The young man, who was visibly uncomfortable, mumbled, “Like I said, that was a mistake. I accidentally touched you while dancing, Honest mistake.”
“Mistake my ass! You were clearly grabbing my butt! You think I didn’t feel it?” Hertha pointed at him, her lips trembling with anger,
“I said it was a mistake, woman. Are you that desperate for someone to touch your butt? Also, you’re still holding my hand, that’s inappropriate. I know I’m attractive, but I’m not that easy.” The young man pulled his hand back.
Hertha was taken aback. Unprepared for his rebuttal, she was heaved with anger.
With no more drama to witness, the crowd dispersed.
The young man approached, his finger pointed at her face, “Since you seem interested, I can make an exception. How about we go to a hotel?”
Hertha slapped his hand away, “Go away, you pervert!”
“Refusing a toast only leads to a forfeit. Come with me!” He forcefully grabbed her wrist..
Hertha struggled, but couldn’t break free.
Suddenly, a slap echoed through the room, landing on the young man’s face. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
The force of the slap was considerable.
Hertha was stunned; she turned towards the source of the slap.
Seeing that devilishly handsome face, Hertha’s heart skipped a beat.