Chapter 288

He once warned her that her body was his and his alone.

He made it clear that, as his woman, she wasn’t allowed to have any contact with other men.

But she didn’t take his words seriously.

Lysander was filled with rage, burning as hot as his body temperature.

Thalassa could feel his rising heat, her heart pounded faster out of fear. She pushed him away and started to struggle.

No, she didn’t want to be with him like this!

Lysander felt her defiance. He grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, trapping her fiercely.

Taking away her breath.

The faint scent of magnolia was like poison, invading his nostrils and making his blood boil.

“No.” Thalassa struggled hard, trying to break free.

The woman in Lysander’s arms was getting more restless, squirming like a kitten.

His raging desire was interrupted when he caught a whiff of a scent on her that wasn’t hers, a scent of men’s cologne.

His eyes darkened, and he let go of her lips, taking a step back.

He dragged her under the shower, letting the ater wash away the scent from her body.

He coldly and dominantly said, “Clean yourself! If I smell another man on you again, you’ll regret it!”

With that, Lysander pushed open the bathroom door and left.

The sound of the door closing was like a punch to Thalassa’s heart, startling her.

Water rained down from above, soaking her hair and clothes.

Her vision blurred, and the water flow intensified. She hastily stepped back, avoiding the gushing water, and swept her wet hair back.

She cupped her hand over her rapidly beating heart.

That was too close, for comfort.

She was almost forcefully taken by Lysander.

She had already showered at home, and now she had to do it again.

Lysander said she smelled of another man. Was it because she wore Leopold’s jacket?

She couldn’t smell it.

How come Lysander’s nose was as sharp as a dog’s?

Thalassa breathed deeply to calm herself down.

She stood under the shower again; washing herself thoroughly, lathering up with shower gel, and rinsing clean.

There were no clothes in the bathroom, she had to make do with a bathrobe.

The robe was Lysander’s. It was big and long.

It reached her ankles when she wore it, and the sleeves were huge, like a dramatic stage costume.

She decided to roll up her sleeves.

After freshening up, she carefully opened the bathroom door and peeked out, seeing no sign of Lysander.

Then she confidently stepped out of the bathroom.

Although this wasn’t the Sinclair family’s hilltop villa, the interior design and decoration were almost identical.

Both boasted black and white tones, luxurious yet understated.

F F The genuine leather sofas were clearly high-end.

And the luxurious bed was draped with smooth fox fur.

A man who looked like a butler addressed Lysander as “sir.”

Thalassa guessed this was Lysander’s private residence.

Thalassa didn’t have time to dwell on why he brought her here.

Her mind was occupied with thoughts of her four children. She wondered if they had woken up.

Her mother, Evelyn, had gone out to play poker again, assuming Thalassa was home to look after the kids. Evelyn wouldn’t be rushing home anytime soon.