NovelEnglish
Chapter 374
The door of the bungalow was ajar.
As Lysander walked in, a chilling sight greeted him, making his blood run cold.
The floor was a mess, strewn with shattered porcelain and gemstone jewelry that had been carelessly
tossed about.
Antique paintings were torn and scattered haphazardly on the floor.
Fitch, who had accompanied Lysander, was taken aback by the scene.
Thalassa stood in the middle of the room, curiously inspecting an antique porcelain piece. After a brief
moment, she put it to her mouth and tried to bite it. When she couldn’t, she muttered something about it
not being tasty and without hesitation, tossed it behind her.
Fitch, terrified, lunged forward to catch the falling piece, but missed. The porcelain hit the floor and
broke into pieces.
Just like Fitch’s heart, shattered.
Thalassa seemed oblivious, bouncing on her feet, heading towards another ancient painting hanging
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Fitch, with his heart pounding in his chest, turned to look at Lysander’s reaction.
Lysander’s face was as cold and dark as a winter sky, his eyes concealing a brewing storm.
He strode forward, grabbing Thalassa’s hand, pulling her away from the painting.
She fell into his arms, unaware of the impending danger.
Sporting his shirt, with sleeves hanging loosely over her hands, she playfully brushed his face with her
sleeve. Her face was a picture of adoration, and her voice was soft and sweet, “Goddess, are you here
to cuddle with me?”
Lysander’s eyes were icy, his handsome face taut as he stared at her. Her eyes sparkled like
diamonds, suggesting she was not in her right senses.
Thalassa was restless. After brushing Lysander’s face with her sleeve, she reached out to scratch his
face with her small paw. She believed she was a lamb by the side of a Greek goddess, with hands as
soft as lamb hooves.
She rubbed her face against his, like a rabbit seeking affection, using her warm fur to comfort him,
“Hmm, my goddess, you’re so beautiful. I want to cuddle with you too Come, let me hold you. You’re so
beautiful.”
As she rubbed her face against his, she lightly scratched his elastic face with her “hooves”.
Lysander’s demeanor was cold and stern, his anger rising. However, her actions were so provocative,
rubbing and scratching his cheek. Her touch was soft and
delicate.
It felt like a cat’s paw scratching his heart. He swallowed hard, his body turning even colder.
Fitch, witnessing this scene, broke out in a cold sweat. Lysander was furious, and Thalassa was still
making such provocative moves.
She dared to call Lysander, a man of such masculinity, beautiful.
Fitch was sweating bullets for Thalassa.
Lysander gritted his teeth, seized her fidgeting hand, and demanded in a low and angry voice,
“Thalassa, look at me. Who am I?”
“Goddess, you’re so fierce. I, the little lamb, am scared,” Thalassa said, swaying her hips, effectively
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Lysander’s icy gaze deepened. He turned to Fitch and asked, “Are you sure she hasn’t eaten
anything?”
Fitch, terrified, stammered, “No.”
Suddenly, he remembered something, “There are mushrooms growing on a tree in the backyard. Ms.
Everhart might have eaten them raw out of hunger, causing hallucinations.”
Lysander’s sharp brows furrowed slightly. He picked Thalassa up and quickly left the bungalow.
Fitch looked at the damaged antiques on the floor, shivering at the sight.
These were all valuable antiques, now destroyed.
Lysander carried Thalassa back to their bedroom and called Dr. Everest.
While waiting for Dr. Everest to arrive, Thalassa was restless, constantly tugging at Lysander’s arm and
rubbing her face against it. She sweetly called him her goddess, asking him to cuddle.
She was as clingy as a pixie.
She might have been imagining herself as a lamb, but Lysander was fully aware. Moreover, her scent
and the soft touch of her skin were familiar sensations that stirred something in him.
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