Lysander's chilly eyes narrowed, his hands gripping the wheels of his wheelchair, ready to push himself towards Thalassa.

"Thalassa!" Callum, quick on his feet, rushed forward to support Thalassa. His voice was laced with concern, "Thalassa, are you badly hurt? Should I take you to the hospital right now?"

Thalassa swallowed hard, her throat aching as if slashed by a knife, her heart constricting with pain. Her voice trembled as she replied, "No need, I'll just head home, clean the wound with some antiseptic, and slap on a band-aid."

She steadied herself, silently slipping her hand out of Callum's grasp. With her back to Lysander, she could feel his cold, merciless stare piercing through her.

It sent chills down her spine and a stabbing pain in her heart.

back or catching Lysander's eye, she

worried, watched her faltering steps. Knowing she wouldn't want his

watched as Callum and Thalassa's departure

cold aura was nearly enough to freeze the air around him. Rosalind, ever so observant, noticed Lysander's instinctive move to push his wheelchair forward

Callum, and he was nervous enough to clench his fists when she was in

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bounds. Even if they had given her all that money, she wouldn't have simply let Thalassa go - her ambitions would only grow, potentially ending Thalassa's life even

indifference to trick the kidnapper into believing that killing Thalassa would only make

that Thalassa could leave

his wisdom

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