The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)

Chapter 928
On a typical Monday afternoon, Thalassa was getting ready to wrap up her day at the office when her boss, Ethan, strolled into
her workspace with a casual, “Thalassa, I’ve got a social engagement tonight, and you’re coming with me.”
Her curiosity piqued, Thalassa asked, “Mr. Ethan, why would I be the one to accompany you?”
With his arms crossed and a look of amused ease on his face, Ethan replied, “You’re my secretary, aren’t you? If you don’t
schmooze with me, who will? Right now, you’re the only one I’ve got. No backups, no understudies. If I don’t lean on you, who
else is there?”
Thalassa paused to consider his point. It was true, after all. If Betty and Anna hadn’t resigned because of her, she wouldn’t be
the one accompanying Ethan to these social events.
As the sole secretary in the office now, Ethan would have to seek her out for anything he needed.
As they left the company building, Thalassa trailed behind Ethan, probing, “Mr. Ethan, why don’t you just hire another secretary?”
“No need for that; having you is more than enough. You’re worth three,” Ethan said nonchalantly.
Thalassa was left to wonder whether that was a backhanded compliment or genuine praise.
To her dismay, the venue for the evening turned out to be a bar-a place where strobe lights seared the eyes and the music
pulsed with a relentless beat. Men and women gyrated wildly on the dance floor, lost in the frenetic movements of an
indecipherable dance.
Thalassa was not fond of such chaotic environments; she had always preferred quietness. In the past, even when she went to a
bar with Hertha, it was only to those places with soft music and a tranquil ambiance, not to these noisy places.
“Let’s head to that private booth over there,” Ethan said, glancing back at Thalassa, noticing her discomfort amid the cacophony
and the crowd.
Inside the booth, several executives were seated, along with a familjar man, Callum, who sat in the corner, grinning slyly with a
drink in hand,

Upon Ethan’s arrival, a portly figure with a receding hairline stood up, glass in hand, and warmly greeted him, “Mr. Ethan, glad
you could make it. And who is this lovely lady? A new flame?”
Thalassa felt a wave of déjà vu-this wasn’t the first time she’d been mistaken for Ethan’s girlfriend.
Ethan chuckled, “I’m a man who doesn’t believe in love. The ‘girlfriend’ species is nonexistent in my world. This is my secretary,
Thalassa Everhart.”
“Oh, the secretary...” The executive, approximately fifty, with a knowing look and a roving eye, continued, “Ms. Everhart, a
pleasure. Let’s toast to our first encounter. I’ve heard Mr. Ethan’s secretaries can handle their liquor.”
He handed another glass to Thalassa, his eyes gleaming with a mix of mirth and something else as he looked her up and down.
Feeling his gaze crawl over her, Thalassa instinctively stepped back.
“Zane, my secretary doesn’t drink. If you want to toast someone, aim it my way,” Ethan interjected sharply, taking the glass from
Zane’s hand, his smile not reaching his eyes.
Zane, sensing Ethan’s protective stance, dialed back his overt interest and apologized with a chuckle, “Sorry, Mr. Ethan. I just
assumed she was like the previous secretaries-able to knock back a few. My mistake, my apologies.”
His eyes, however, lingered on Thalassa once more, and although his boldness had been curbed, the underlying covetousness
had not.
“Zane’s eyes and mouth seem to be unwell; they need special treatment,” came a deep, chilling voice, cutting through the
tension like a winter gust.
The temperature in the booth seemed to drop as Lysander’s imposing figure entered, followed by several bodyguards.
“Mr. Sinclair.” Zane began, eager to ingratiate himself, but before he could finish, a bodyguard stepped forward, skillfully
restraining Zane’s arms behind his back.
Zane let out a yelp of surprise.
“Mr. Sinclair stated that Zane’s eyes and mouth need to be properly disinfected,” the bodyguard stated with icy detachment.