Chapter 370

The man on the other end of the line was as cold as a winter wind, chilling to the bone.

His voice was icy and devoid of warmth as he commanded, “From now on, not even a grain of bread should reach her!”

Fitch felt a chill running down his spine, his heart pounding for Thalassa, but he dared not defy Lysander’s orders. He managed a response, “Yes, Mr. Sinclair”

The line went dead before he could finish his statement.

Fitch looked up at Thalassa, her chest heaving, her eyes filled with anger yet a glimmer of hope.

Feeling sorry, Fitch suggested, “Ms. Everhart, perhaps you should rest in your room.

Upon hearing his words, Thalassa knew she had failed.

She had used hunger as a weapon, yet Lysander still refused to let her go.

Thalassa clenched her fists, her heart aching with pain and anger. Her breathing became heavy as she stood there, processing the harsh reality.

few heavy breaths, she turned on her

to contact Hertha for help, but

the room for a

two chargers in the room, but neither of them can be

she was cut

stronger, and she found it impossible to rest.

the master bedroom, her heart pounded with agitation

soon it

no one came

was as if she didn’t exist in the

the sun set, nightfall came.

thought of Lysander’s return, her heart pounded with fear.

she had to face the reality. Come seven in the evening, Lysander

heard the engine of his car in

already taut nerves wound tighter

listening

wave of cold, intimidating air

beat. She looked up to see Lysander, tall and imposing, his aura overpowering and frosty.

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