The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)
Chapter 1203

"Maybe I shouldn't let Mom have any more," little Elowen mused with innocent concern, her blue eyes wide with worry. "What if it makes her belly burst?"

"Mom's got a brother or sister for us in there," she added softly.

Elowen nodded her understanding dutifully, "Okay, Mommy, you eat less. Don't burst your belly."

The little one was genuinely worried, believing one could truly eat until they burst.

Thalassa chuckled warmly, her gentle smile spreading across her face as she said, "Alright, dig in everyone."

With her words, the four little kids quietly nibbled on their food, adorably and daintily spooning bites into their mouths.

Thalassa couldn't help but let her smile linger as she watched their soft, cute, and sensible little faces. Seeing the kids engrossed in their dinner, she too turned her attention back to her plate.

Her selection was a comforting spread: the three dishes Lysander specially prepared for her.

When each dish was reduced to half, Thalassa felt full, even a bit overstuffed, and couldn't eat another bite.

But there sat Lysander, her towering and intimidating husband, casting a cold and shadowy presence that seemed to press down on her at all times.

If she didn't finish her meal, he would erupt like a volcano, fierce and sudden.

Despite feeling uncomfortably full, Thalassa soldiered on with her meal.

It's strange how the body works-when you're hungry, everything tastes divine, and the appetite is voracious. But when full, even the most delicious morsels lose their allure and become hard to swallow. Thalassa forced another bite of the rich beef stew, but her stomach rebelled against the greasiness.

As she persevered, a wave of nausea overcame her.

Suddenly, her fork was snatched from her grasp.

Lysander's icy voice chided her, "Are you a pig? If you can't eat it, don't force it!"

Thalassa gagged, the stew proving too much, and she spat it out onto the napkin on the table.

She frantically reached for a tissue, wiping her mouth, then looked up at Lysander with panicked eyes, meeting his hard, displeased gaze.

His handsome face was tight with anger.

Thalassa's nerves spiked as she rushed to explain, "These are the dishes you had specially prepared for me. Of course, I wanted to finish them. Otherwise, you'd be upset."

Lysander frowned, his aura growing colder, barely containing his rage.

In her eyes, he was such an unyielding and heartless tyrant!

"Go do whatever you need to do once you're full!" Lysander spoke in a low and frosty tone.

Had he ever said she had to finish everything?

Thalassa was stunned, looking at Lysander incredulously. Wasn't he forcing her to finish? Had she misunderstood his intentions?

Was he not angry, but actually thought she truly enjoyed these dishes, so he had them made for her, to whet her appetite and nourish the child within her?

The former was easier for Thalassa to believe, the latter was beyond her comprehension, utterly unbelievable.

As she hesitated, Lysander's eyes were deep and icy, his presence growing ever more chilling. Thalassa's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly rose from her seat, not wanting to delay and risk his wrath.

"I'm going to take a shower. I'll play with the kids afterward," she said hurriedly, standing up and leaving the dining table, eager to escape Lysander's smoldering anger.

The children were still eating, and by the time she finished her shower, they would likely be done-perfect timing to join them in play.

Lysander watched her retreating figure, his breaths sharp and tight, a dull ache in his chest.