The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen) novel Chapter 1746

“What? Lysander and Rosalind are getting married today?” Hertha exclaimed, snatching the smartphone from Alaric’s hands in disbelief.

Thalassa looked up, startled, her cheeks still streaked with tears she hadn't yet wiped away. She was shocked to see the phone in Hertha's hand.

“Thalassa, look, this is really Lysander and Rosalind’s wedding!” Hertha handed the phone to Thalassa.

The video on the screen showed a lavish scene at the Starhaven International Hotel’s grand ballroom.

The place was dripping in luxury, with massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, creating an atmosphere of opulence and grandeur.

The guests were a sea of suits and couture, clearly a gathering of the crème de la crème, mostly business moguls and high society figures.

After a quick sweep through the guests, the camera focused on a stage laid out with a red carpet, flanked by bunches of fiery red roses, blending wealth and romance seamlessly.

The emcee, microphone in hand, was delivering the opening speech of the ceremony.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the wedding of Mr. Sinclair and Miss Rosalind. The auspicious moment is upon us shortly, please bear with us as the bride and groom make their grand entrance.”

Seeing this, Hertha grabbed back the phone, urgently saying to Thalassa, “Thalassa, let Alaric drive you to the Starhaven International Hotel, you're the only one who can stop this wedding!”

Thalassa swallowed hard, her eyes closed lightly, and she gently shook her head.

“Thalassa, what do you mean? Aren’t you going to stop Lysander?” Hertha asked, puzzled and anxious.

Thalassa’s hands, hanging by her sides, clenched tightly. For a moment, she wanted to throw caution to the wind and rush over to tell Lysander she didn’t want him to marry Rosalind.

But the memory of her last visit to the Royal Estates, intending to confront Lysander about a misunderstanding involving her mother’s death, only to find Rosalind in her nightgown, seductively inviting him upstairs for a rest, his hand tenderly stroking hers with a fond expression, quelled her impulse.

“What does it look like? I’m taking you to crash a wedding!” Hertha vented in frustration.

If Thalassa didn’t act now, Lysander would truly belong to someone else!

As they hurried down the corridor, about to turn toward the elevator – a bit too swiftly – they nearly bumped into someone coming the other way.

Thankfully, Hertha stopped just in time.

Ready to snap at the person, Hertha’s anger turned to surprise upon recognizing a familiar face, “Lydia, you’re here!”

Thalassa also spotted the tall, slender figure of Lydia, asking uncertainly, “Lydia? What are you doing here at the hospital? Is my aunt alright?”