Chapter 1362
Lysander’s grip tightened around Thalassa’s hand, unyielding, not allowing her to pull away. His handsome features were set in a determined, almost domineering expression, his eyes locking onto hers.
In the depths of his gaze, like the dark waters of a secluded lake, lay a month’s worth of longing for her.
“It’s been a month, Thalassa. Hasn’t your heart eased even a bit?” Lysander’s voice, low and magnetic, inquired.
During this past month, he’d been abroad not just for work but to give Thalassa time-time to find solace, to heal from the loss of her mother.
He knew that once her mood lightened, discussions of marriage would flow much more
smoothly.
Thalassa couldn’t pry her hand from his grasp; his palm was like a vice, holding her fiercely. If she struggled too much, she’d only hurt herself.
like W
Just like every time before, his overbearing confinement left her more wounded the harder she fought.
He was the same as ever, imperious, never considering her feelings.
Thalassa’s breaths were uneven, and she gave up resisting, her eyes cold as she met Lysander’s stare. “Your parents have been dead for so many years. Have you found comfort yet?”
Her gaze was unwavering, steadfast with a glint of hatred, fearless, and tinged with stubborn anger.
It shook Lysander to his core, his heart feeling as if hammered by a massive forc
The strength in his fingers eased.
Sensing the loosening grip, Thalassa quickly withdrew her hand and turned, headi inside the house.
Lysander stood frozen, watching her retreating figure disappear into the house, his b slightly furrowed, his dark eyes tinged with sorrow.
Thalassa still blamed him for urging Evelyn to go to the police and testify against Bruce for fraud, which in turn provoked Bruce, leading to Evelyn’s demise.
He understood her pain all too well; when his parents passed, he was shrouded in darkness for over two decades, never quite emerging from the shadows.
Thalassa and her mother had only each other, their bond far deeper than what he had wit his parents.
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Chapter 1362
Her mother’s death would undoubtedly cause her immense suffering.
Lysander flexed the hand that had held Thalassa’s wrist, the coolness of her skin seemingly lingering in his palm.
It was like the chill of morning dew, seeping into the soul, chilling the heart.
So this was how it felt when Thalassa harbored hatred for him-an unavoidable, heart-wrenching coldness.
Once, he had kept her close in the name of hatred; each punishment, each encounter,
must have been a torturous ordeal for her.
Now, she returned this hatred, not by staying to torment him but by pushing him away, wishing to never see him again in this lifetime.
Her hatred for him was pure and piercing, free of any reluctance or longing.
A clean break, an eternal farewell…
A look of weary resignation crossed Lysander’s handsome features. He watched the house, wisely choosing not to disturb her further.
Suddenly, a thunderous roar filled the sky-the sound of a helicopter approaching. Though it was still a distance from Thalassa’s villa, Lysander’s keen senses picked it up
immediately.