The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)

Chapter 1139
Angelina stood rooted to the spot, her expression grave as she watched Alaric emerge from the bar with a woman by his side.
Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the stranger with
a silent intensity.
Hertha, who had been leading the way, caught sight of the matronly figure awaiting them. Memories of Angelina’s firm grip on
Alaric’s ear back at the bar sent a shiver of fear through her. Her steps faltered, and she slowed down, waiting for Alaric to catch
up. Clutching at his shirt sleeve with tentative fingers, she sought shelter beside him, the very picture of a timid bride afraid to
meet her in-laws.
Alaric glanced at her, a smirk playing on his lips as he noticed her trailing behind him and her small, nervous steps; her
demeanor made her look like a bashful newlywed.
Hertha’s anxiety mounted as she contemplated facing Alaric’s mother. Her grip on Alaric’s hand was tentative until she felt his
larger, warm hand envelop hers.
The comforting touch sent a tremor through her. She looked up into Alaric’s eyes, and his nod gave her a silent boost of
confidence.
Taking a deep breath, Hertha steeled herself and tried to calm her racing heart.
Alaric, holding her hand firmly in his, walked with measured steps toward Angelina.
“Mom, this is the woman I’ve been telling you about, the one I’m crazy about,” Alaric said.

Hertha’s heart skipped a beat at his words, and she stared at him in disbelief. His profile was resolute and fiercely attractive.
Hadn’t their conversation earlier been strictly business? When did he start saying he was crazy about her?
“So, you’re Alaric’s girlfriend?” Angelina’s voice snapped Hertha back to reality.
Hertha turned to face the scrutinizing gaze; her nervousness evident as she fumbled with
Alaric’s hand.
“Yes, I am...” she managed to say.
“Mom, why so harsh? Look at you, you are scaring the poor girl,” Alaric interjected, sensing Hertha’s discomfort. Her palm was
sweaty, and she seemed unable to speak clearly in front of Angelina.
Squeezing Hertha’s hand in support, he faced his mother.
“Whoa there, I haven’t even started yet, and you’re already jumping to her defense?” Angelina retorted with a chuckle, her
domineering presence softening a bit.
Turning to Hertha, she inquired, “What do you do for a living?”
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“I’m a jewelry designer,” Hertha replied meekly.
“And your parents? What do they do?” Angelina pressed on.

“Mom, what are you doing? Are you conducting an interrogation?” Alaric’s patience waned.
“I’m talking to her, not you. Zip it,” Angelina shot back. She was undeterred by her sons protest.
Hertha straightened up and answered, “My parents are both retired judicial personnel
Angelina nodded, taking in the details of Hertha’s family background, then turned her critical gaze to Alaric, “What’s the meaning
of this? Bringing the young lady to a bar to fool around?”
“It’s not his fault; I wanted to come here,” Hertha interjected quickly.
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Alaric tugged at their joined hands, but it was too late.
Angelina’s eyes snapped to Hertha, her voice rising, “What? You wanted to go to the bar yourself?”