Ethan tuned into Alaric's frustration with the keenness of someone who's been there. Standing up, he adjusted his collar and crafted a smooth exit for Alaric, "Looks like it's all yours, Mr. Sinclair. Alaric, let's hit the road."

"Ah, right, Lysander, make sure you and Thalassa have a good chat. Nothing to be shy about, we'll head out first." Alaric shot Lysander a teasing look, hinting that it was a perfect moment for some personal talk.

After receiving a glare from Lysander that could freeze hell over, Alaric couldn't help but chuckle, grabbing his documents and making a quick escape.

Outside, Hertha was on the curb, hailing a cab. Alaric approached, offering a ride, "Let me give you a lift."

Without a second thought, Hertha declined, "I wouldn't want to trouble a busy man like Mr. Falconer."

Just then, a taxi pulled up. Hertha swung open the door, jumped in, and urged the driver to go before she even gave an address.

Watching the taxi disappear, Alaric felt certain Hertha was avoiding him. Why else the rush? Was it because of yesterday, when he visited her place and their accidental touch in the kitchen made Spencer jealous? Spencer might look like a gentleman, but he wasn't that forgiving. Probably played it cool in public but had a row with Hertha afterwards.

The thought soured Alaric's mood.

He used to have the upper hand, but now, missing his chance with Hertha, he was just the third wheel.

Right, Hertha was off-limits now, a married woman. He had to keep his distance.

"Alaric, you're zoning out! The taxi's long gone," Ethan called from the driver's seat, never having seen Alaric this downcast before. Alaric was known for his carefree spirit, always breezy around women. But now...

Love, it seemed, was not all roses, turning even the happiest soul gloomy.

NOW PLAY YOUR

FAVOURITE GAMES ON

Just another day for Ethan to doubt love's worth. Better to stay detached, unencumbered by romantic entanglements.

Snapping back to reality, Alaric climbed into the car, and Ethan drove off.

Back at the restaurant.

Thalassa sat opposite Lysander, now just the three of them with David.

With the crowd thinned, Lysander might feel more at ease discussing work. Thalassa ventured, "Mr. Sinclair, about the design process..." "Have you had breakfast?" Lysander suddenly lifted his gaze, his deep, dark eyes locking onto hers.

His stare, though soft, was intense enough to take one's breath away.

Thalassa nodded quickly, "Yes, have you, Mr. Sinclair?"

"I have," Lysander replied, handing documents to David but keeping his gaze on Thalassa. "Come with me to Royal Estates."

With that, David understood the cue, helping Lysander up and heading out.

Thalassa froze, puzzled. Weren't they supposed to talk shop? And now Lysander was inviting her to Royal Estates?

As she hesitated, Lysander's intense gaze bore into her, "What are you waiting for? Want to share my wheelchair and get a push too?"

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