The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)

Chapter 1412 “Aunt Thalassa, can | have a hug?” Helena nestled softly into Thalassa’s embrace, her chubby little arms wrapped around Thalassa’s neck, and her plump cheeks rubbed affectionately against Thalassa’s face.

Tiny tears transferred onto Thalassa’s skin, soft and cool, melting right into her heart.

“Of course, Helena. Aunt Thalassa loves you to the moon and back, Thalassa cooed, leaning in to press her cheek gently against Helena’s.

Hertha cinto the room, carrying Julian with a beaming smile. “I told you to cup with me. | couldn't carry both munchkins by myself.” Hertha’s face lit up with joy whenever she saw her two adorable children, a happiness that radiated from within.

She felt that her greatest achievement in life was giving birth to two bright and lovely kids.

Three years ago, the night Hertha agreed to help Alaric break off his engagement, she believed his sweet nothings, thinking he truly cared only for her and would marry her.

Naively, she agreed to sleep with him. Little did she expect that from just that one night, she would becpregnant.

And with twins, no less! Hertha was stunned just like Thalassa, finding herself expecting before marriage! But having been the godmother to Thalassa’s four kids, and with her love for children, the moment Hertha discovered her pregnancy, she made a resolute decision. She would have her babies and raise them on her own as a strong, independent single mother! She couldn't possibly turn to Alaric, especially after witnessing him in bed with Georgia and with their wedding on the horizon. Alaric’s mother, Angelina, in an attempt to humiliate her, even offered her a hefty sum to stay away from Alaric.

With the Falconer family acting so ruthlessly, how could she shamelessly approach Alaric to acknowledge their children? So, she gave birth to them secretly. Like Thalassa once did, she beca joyous single mother.

Hertha was confident that as long as she kept her distance, Alaric would never discover the existence of their two children. Nor would she ever let the Falconer family take them away.

“Ms. Kensington, you're back. I'm sorry, | was busy cooking and couldn't tend to the little ones,” Bridget apologized as she emerged from the kitchen, holding a spatula.

Bridget, a simple woman in her fifties, was the babies‘ nanny. She was hired to take care of the children and manage the household chores.

Hertha was a successful jewelry designer and earned a comfortable living. Supporting two children and affording a nanny was well within her means.

As for why Hertha didn’t ask her own mother for help with the kids, it was because she had never told her parents that she had beca mother! She went even further than Thalassa in keeping secrets. She hadn't even told her own parents! In other words, Hertha’s parents were completely unaware that they had two grandchildren who were already two years old! When Hertha fell pregnant, she fabricated a story about being sent abroad for work for a year. She secluded herself in her own purchased hwith a nanny to care for her, stealthily giving birth and raising her children in secret.

“Bridget, don’t worry. You don’t have to apologize. You manage our hand care for the kids. | couldn't be more grateful,” Hertha said, ever understanding and appreciative.

Bridget had been with Hertha since her pregnancy, looking after her and the children all this time.

Chapter 1413 Chapter 1413 Bridget was a kind woman, a hard worker with a heart of gold. Over the years, she had been caring for Hertha and the twins wholeheartedly.

“Don’t say such things,” she chuckled, “you paya fair wage, and looking after you is part of my duty. Ms.

Kensington, Ms. Everhart, | bet you haven't eaten yet. I've got one more dish to whip up, and then dinner is served.” With that, Bridget bustled back into the kitchen.

Hertha and Thalassa each cradling a child, settled onto the couch.

Little Helena wiggled out of Thalassa’s arms, and though Thalassa thought she was off to play, the toddler fished out a pack of cookies from between the couch cushions instead.

Clutching a chocolate chip cookie, she held it up to Thalassa, “Auntie Thalassa, have a cookie.” “Mama wants one too.” Julian wriggled out from Hertha’s holding, grabbed a cookie, and offered it to Hertha with all the seriousness of a grown-up. “Mommy, open your mouth.” He himself opened his mouth wide, mimicking the action he wanted Hertha to take. His innocent eyes were filled with tender love.

It was a heartwarming sight for Hertha.

Surrounded by such pure love, she obliged with an “Ahh*.

Julian promptly placed the cookie in her mouth.

Helena followed suit, coaxing Thalassa to open up. As Thalassa ate the cookie, she smiled and tousled Helena’s soft hair. “Thanks, Helena. Did you hear Bridget say we hadn't eaten, so you brought us the cookies?” “Uh-huh,” Helena nodded vigorously.

“You're such a sweetheart. You know, Elowen was just as thoughtful and adorable when she was at your age,” Thalassa said, gently caressing Helena’s cheek, her mind drifting to her own four children.

A pang of longing surged through her at the thought of her four little darlings. It had been three years since Zephyr took the children away from the hospital and forbade her from seeing them. And with all her energy focused on caring for Lysander, she hadn't had the chance to fight for her right to see them.

Hearing Elowen’s name, Hertha asked with a mix of curiosity and complaint, “Thalassa, does Zephyr really not allow you to see your children even once?” Thalassa’s lashes fluttered down as she nodded.

“That's cruel! He won't let you see your children or let them see their mother? Isn’t he afraid they'll resent him when they grow up?” Hertha was indignant on Thalassa’s behalf.

“I heard from David that Zephyr sent the kids to a military-style boarding school. They're not allowed to just cand go,” Thalassa replied.

“What? To a boarding school so young? Those places are tough. Can the kids handle it?” Hertha was deeply sympathetic.

“David mentioned that Lysander grew up in a military school as well.” Thalassa only knew about her children’s lives through David's updates.

“So, Zephyr is grooming your kids just like he did to Lysander. Looks like he does care about them in his own way. But keeping you them is just too cruel to both you and the kids. Maybe once Lysander wakes up, you'll have a chance at a family reunion. After all, Lysander can stand up to Zephyr,” Hertha mused.

Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, Hertha exclaimed, “Wait, | know how we can get Lysander the best treatment!” from Thalassa shook off her funk and asked curiously, “How?” “We gotta visit Dr. Funke.” “But Dr. Funke won't even give us the tof day,” Thalassa lamented.

“Didn’t Dr. Funke promise Alaric a dinner to sign scontract or something? We can just go with Alaric,” Hertha suggested. “But...” “No buts about it, leave this to me,” Hertha proclaimed, her indignation fueling her resolve.

The next morning, Hertha made her way to the Falconer Group, striding with determined steps toward the elevator.

No sooner had she reached the reception desk than she was stopped, “Miss, may | ask who you're here to see?” Every corporate receptionist is like a human radar for new faces.

Spotting an unfamiliar one, they intercept, preventing any potentially ill-intentioned visitor from disturbing the upper echelons of the company.

Hertha had to pause, but she put on a cheery smile and told the receptionist, “I'm an old friend of your VP. Just need to chat with him about something.” “Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked, her expression stern, leaving no room for flexibility.

“Do | need an appointment to see an old friend?” Hertha was taken aback.

“During business hours, you need an appointment to meet with our VP. If you don’t have one, | can’t let you through,” the receptionist insisted.

Hertha swallowed her rising temper.

When did Alaric get so high-and-mighty that he required appointments? Whatever, she needed his help, so she held it in.

Maintaining her grin, she told the receptionist, “Sorry, letjust give him a quick call.” Puiling out her phone, the sone she'd had for three years, Hertha scrolled to Alaric’s number.

She hadn't dialed it once for three years. She wondered if Alaric still used that number.

Ever since she’d stumbled upon Alaric and Georgia sharing a bed, leaving the hotel that morning in a huff, she hadn’t spoken to him again.

Then her pregnancy came, and fearing the gossip, she cut off all contact with the outside world.

Alaric’s number had been cocooned in her phone for three years.

Now, she was dialing it again after all this time.

Her heart fluttered with uncertainty, not knowing if the call would even connect.

Then the dial tone beeped through.

The call went through! Alaric hadn’t changed his number in three years! A few rings later, the call was answered.

Her heart pounded, adrenaline coursing as she scrambled for the right words, but then an unfamiliar male voice cthrough, “Ms. Kensington, how can | assist you?” That voice wasn’t Alaric’s! Baffled for a moment, she asked, “Who's this? Isn't this Alaric’s number?” “Hello, I'm Alistair, Mr. Falconer’s assistant. Mr. Falconer is in a meeting. His phone is with me. Do you need to speak with him?” Relief washed-over Hertha upon realizing she had a direct line to Alaric.

“I do need to speak with him, but it has to be a one-on-one conversation,” she said.

Alistair glanced at the caller ID showing just one word: Hertha.