Chapter 821

Lysander’s hand tightened around her, pulling her into his chest. His voice was a deep, rasping murmur, “Stay still. If it goes off, it’s on you.”

Thalassa froze, afraid to move.

Lysander held her, doing nothing more than holding her a bit too tightly, so tightly that Thalassa was having trouble catching her breath. His chin rested on top of her head, his breath strong and hot, brushing past her scalp.

It was like the breath of a wild animal. It startled Thalassa into stillness and made her barely dare to breathe. She was afraid to provoke his inner beast, and afraid that the next moment she would be torn apart.

“I’ve told you that you don’t need to be so tense all the time in the Royal Estates,” Lysander’s low, husky voice echoed in Thalassa’s ears. Thalassa’s eyelashes fluttered; her voice was barely above a whisper, “I know. I just can’t help it.”

She didn’t want to be tense, but given her situation and his intimidating presence, it was hard not to be.

Lysander’s arms around her faltered slightly; he loosened his grip on her a bit, lowered his head to graze his pointy nose against her soft cheek, “Think of this place as your home, then you won’t be so nervous.”

Thalassa’s face tingled where he had brushed it. She shrank her neck instinctively as she replied in a compliant tone, “I’ll try.”

Right now, she didn’t dare to challenge him. The outcome of previous confrontations had taught her to back down and understand Lysander, who responded better to submission than defiance.

If she wanted to live comfortably, she had to go along with him.

He told her to consider the Royal Estates as her own home, but he had never provided her with the warmth of a home or the freedom to make her own decisions. At home, she could do whatever she wanted and whenever she wanted; she could even go on a trip whenever she felt like it.

But what about the Royal Estates?

What could she do there?

Could she do whatever she wanted without any constraints or considerations for others?

The answer was undoubtedly no.

The kids could call this place their home because Lysander was their father.

But who was she to call this place her home?

At most, she could be considered a guest, if not less than that.

Lysander was strange, on one hand telling her not to think about marrying him, on the other hand asking her to consider the Royal Estates as her own home.

He could only project his possession and obsession on her, so how could she consider this place her home?

Perhaps her compliance had pleased him, so Lysander didn’t say anything more. His hold on her became gentler but he didn’t do anything else.

Thalassa was tense at first so she didn’t dare to relax, thinking she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

But surprisingly, being held tightly by Lysander, feeling his strong physique and hearing his deep breathing, she fell asleep in no time.

Soon, it was Monday. Thalassa’s vacation was over and she had to go back to work.

As she walked into the secretary’s office, she saw a familiar figure packing up.

Thalassa asked curiously, “Betty, you’re back from your business trip?”

Although she couldn’t see her face, Thalassa recognized Betty from her familiarity with her.

Betty turned around at the sound of her voice.

That’s when Thalassa saw that a large medical gauze covered Betty’s left face, almost completely obscuring it. lodine was seeping out from the gauze, indicating a serious injury.

Upon seeing Thalassa, a trace of unease and discomfort flitted across Betty’s eyes. She quickly turned her head away, “I’m just here to pack up. I won’t be working as a secretary here anymore.”