Chapter 415
Thalassa paused, tension coursing through her frame as she maneuvered around the sofa, heading towards the secluded corner of the room.
As she passed by Lysander, her wrist was abruptly seized.
His palm, calloused from years of labor, was strong and warm.
As he held onto Thalassa, her heart gave an involuntary flutter, and she glanced back at him.
His eyes met hers briefly before he pulled her to sit next to him, his arm casually draped around her waist.
The gesture was undeniably intimate.
Thalassa’s heart hammered in her chest as she attempted to pull away, but Lysander’s grip was unyielding.
Seemingly sensing her reluctance, Lysander tightened his hold on her slender waist, ensuring she remained seated beside him.
“Grandpa, do you need anything?” Lysander pre-empted, addressing Zephyr.
Zephyr glanced at them, taking in the sight of Lysander’s arm around Thalassa’s waist. It was a familiar gesture, one that hinted at the intimacy and affection between lovers, and the dominance a man felt over his woman.
He knew Lysander was flaunting this deliberately.
“Regarding Charlotte.”
“I don’t want to discuss the arranged marriage” Lysander cut him off.
Zephyr’s cloudy eyes lingered on Lysander for a moment, before sliding over his hand on Thalassa’s waist, “Fitch said you didn’t return to the villa last night.” “Grandpa, you seem to have a lot of free time lately. I’ve asked David to book tickets for you to travel abroad, take a breather,” Lysander offered, pouring Zephyr a glass of lemon water.
Each sentence was a deflection, each word a rejection.
He wouldn’t agree to the arranged marriage, nor would he marry Charlotte:
His absence from the villa last night was none of his grandfather’s business.
He was thirty, a grown man who could take responsibility for his actions.
He appreciated his grandparents’ concern, but he was no longer a child.
Zephyr exhaled deeply, understanding Lysander’s message.
Lysander was grown, had his own opinions, and was no longer willing to be controlled.
Despite this, Zephyr felt a pang of discomfort.
He downed his water in one gulp, shooting Thalassa a sharp glance before leaving the room.
Thalassa felt as if she’d been stabbed in the heart, the pain sharp and cold.
Once the initial pain subsided, her heart felt as if it was stuffed with cotton, uncomfortably congested.
Zephyr’s disdain for her was evident and unapologetic.
Thalassa removed Lysander’s hand from hers, stood up, and put some distance between them.
In a professional tone, she stated, “Mr. Sinclair, the gourmet competition was a success. Both the judges and the audience were fair to all participants. The TV station reported that the competition’s ratings were also satisfactory. This investment has been profitable.”
Detecting her distant and indifferent attitude, Lysander lifted his deep eyes towards her, “Are you happy?”
Thalassa was taken aback, not understanding the purpose of his question.
What did the success of the gourmet competition have to do with her happiness?
Lysander’s gaze was sharp and deep.
It made Thalassa feel uneasy, causing her to feel a sense of foreboding.
Could he have noticed something?
Thalassa was uncertain, nervously replying, “Of course I’m happy for the company. It’s another successful investment
Lysander’s lips twitched into a cold, mocking smile, “Your best friend’s daughter won the competition and the prize money. Bruce completed another project and got promoted. With two victories in one go, of course you’re happy.”