Chapter 443
Lysander spoke and, even if the reporters were bodacious, they dared not ignore his words.
One by one, the reporters took their leave.
The room, which had been filled with the cacophony of chatter, began to quiet down
Hertha was curious. The reporters were gone, the reward money had been given to her, so why was Lysander still hanging
around?
Just as she was puzzling over this, she noticed Lysander’s gaze fell on a particular spot in the room; his eyes were deep and
introspective.
A wave of panic washed over Hertha. Had Lysander discovered something?
She nervously offered, “Mr. Sinclair, Mr. Falconer, you must be thirsty. Let me get you a cup of coffee.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake, just drink your coffee and leave already.
If they stick around any longer, I’ll have a full-blown anxiety attack. She thought in her mind.
Hertha moved into the kitchen, only to find that she couldn’t locate the cups. She began to rummage through drawers and
cupboards.
Her nervousness and haste resulted in a clattering of utehsils, drawing the attention of the two men in the living room.
“What are you looking for?” a wickedly cool voice echoed from the kitchen doorway.
Hertha jumped in surprise, spinning around to see Alaric leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, watching her with a
relaxed gaze.
Hertha stammered, “I... I’m looking for a drinking glass.”
“Can’t even find a glass in your own home? This isn’t actually your place, is it?” Alaric raised an eyebrow and dropped her a
question.
Hertha’s pulse quickened at his words. She hurriedly denied, “No, of course this is my home! It’s just that...”
Hertha’s gaze shifted, struggling to find an excuse.
“I just didn’t want to use our everyday glasses for guests. I was trying to find disposable cups to serve you coffee,” she finally
found a plausible reason.
“Oh really? You don’t even know if you have disposable cups, or where they might be?” Alaric’s piercing gaze stayed on her.
Exhausted and under pressure, Hertha literally collapsed while dealing those shrewd men.
Despite wracking her brain, she couldn’t outwit them.
Hertha’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat. She forced herself to keep calm, explaining, “My mom usually handles these things
at home, buying and putting away stuff. I don’t usually get involved in housekeeping, so I don’t know where things are
Alaric chuckled lightly, “Look at you, all flustered. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were hiding something. No need to fuss,
we’re not thirsty.”
He turned around and left the kitchen.
Lysander was sitting on the sofa, his eyes glued to a location map on his phone.
Seeing the dot that was so near, his eyes darkened.
Alaric approached him, “Lysander, shouldn’t we be leaving?”
Lysander rose and headed towards one of the rooms.
Alaric raised his eyebrows.
He couldn’t understand Lysander’s move.
Hertha emerged from the kitchen just in time to see Lysander heading towards a room. Her heartbeat quickened, and she rushed
forward, attempting to stop him but not daring to actually do so.
Stammering, she said, “Mr. Sinclair, you haven’t had a meal yet. Oh, Mr. Sinclair, this is my room. Would you like a tour?”
Lysander halted, his gaze piercing her, “Is there something you don’t want me to see?!
Taken aback, Hertlía quickly waved her hands, “No, no, not at all...”
“Good.” With that, Lysander strode into the room.
Hertha quickly followed.
Lysander didn’t look around. His inscrutable gaze was fixed on the closet.
Thalassa, who was hiding inside, could feel a chilling, sharp gaze cutting through the closet door, making her soul tremble.
Lysander reached out to open the closet.
Hertha’s heart raced, her eyes wide in anticipation.