The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)
Chapter 1152

"Look, my grandpa just told me that he'd invest half a billion into the Reed Group to help me dodge this engagement bullet. If we blow our cover now, it'll all go up in smoke. Better you stay put here," Alaric weighed the pros and cons, offering his take.

"Then where am I supposed to sleep?" Hertha glanced around. There was only one bed in the whole room.

"I'll take the bed, and you get the floor," Alaric declared.

Hertha frowned, "Why don't you sleep on the floor?"

"I've got a sour back; the floor is too hard," Alaric shrugged nonchalantly, playing the wounded card.

Hertha clenched her fists, fighting the urge to punch him, but restrained herself upon seeing the spray bottle in his hand.

It was a special spray for bruises and sprains.

She marched over, snatched the spray from his grip and pressed down hard over the bruises on his back.

A few sprays weren't enough. She went for a few more.

Alaric winced, "You got something against my injury?"

"I've got something against you!" Hertha huffed, tossing the spray aside, ready to claim the bed.

Alaric's eyebrows arched. He had anticipated her move. He swiftly collapsed onto the bed, sprawling out to claim his territory, "Ouch, my back's killing me. I need to sleep on something soft." Not only did he lie on the bed, but he also stretched out full starfish style, hogging the entire space.

Hertha, her foot barely on the edge of the bed, found it commandeered by Alaric. Her next step was forcibly halted.

Fuming, she glared at Alaric sprawled on the bed. "Are you even a gentleman to fight a lady for a bed?"

"Why don't you come over here and test if I am?" Alaric teased with a raised eyebrow and a sly grin.

"You..." Hertha choked on his flippant words, growing angrier by the second. She was determined to fight back the bed.

She kicked off her shoes, climbed onto the bed and shoved his leg aside with one foot.

As Alaric's leg jerked away, Hertha quickly claimed the vacated spot. She threw herself onto the bed and pushed against him, intent on shoving him off.

Refusing to sleep on the floor was her last stand of defiance.

Her hand barely touched Alaric's waist when he tensed, his hand instinctively grasping hers. With a swift roll, he pinned her beneath him, "Are you trying to boot me off the bed?"

Hertha swung at him, but he caught her other hand too, pinning it above her head. She strained against his grip, panting with effort. But his strength was too much - her hands wouldn't budge. After a couple of futile attempts, she gave up, glaring up at Alaric furiously.

"Let me go!" Hertha demanded, anger lacing her voice.

"No way. If I let go, you'll kick and shove me again," Alaric retorted, holding her hands firmly in place, his weight on her.

Hertha was speechless.

The atmosphere shifted, suddenly charged with an unspoken tension.

Realizing their compromising position, Hertha's mind buzzed, her eyes wide and blinking up at him.

Alaric gazed down at her. Their proximity was so close that they could even feel each other's breaths.

The playful banter faded. Alaric's expression turned serious, his voice low and husky. He was captivated by her red lips, her fair skin and her alluring eyes.