The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet novel Chapter 1008

Lysander strode into the Draven International Hotel's banquet hall with Thalassa at his side. The event was a curious blend of ancient charm and modern extravagance, with fossil displays that might have belonged in a museum rather than a social gathering. Instead of the usual buffet of appetizers and entrees, the long tables were laden with an array of jade jewelry—pendants, bracelets, circular pendants, and all manner of trinkets. It seemed less like a party and more like an upscale antique market.

The attendees were all significant business magnates, each impeccably dressed in tailored suits, exuding an air of affluence and propriety. Their interactions laced with the polite formalities of a bygone era of scholars and artists.

Thalassa, grateful for her choice of understated attire, remained close to Lysander, relieved not to draw attention. She preferred the shadows to the spotlight, aiming to diminish her presence rather than accentuate it.

"You've made it, Lysander." greeted Richard Draven with effusive warmth. His expression brightened as he noted Thalassa, who was standing by Lysander’s side. "And Thalassa, what a pleasure to see you again." He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing full well the trouble he'd have faced with Lysander if any harm had come to her the previous night.

Thalassa nodded politely in response, choosing not to engage in conversation. She recalled that Ethan had told her that Richard called him last night and asked for her number, undoubtedly to ensure she was escorted home safely — a plan foiled upon finding her missing. It must have been Richard who alerted Lysander to her disappearance. How else could Lysander have abruptly appeared at the Crest Summit hotel in the accompany of a bunch of people with such urgency?

"Mr. Joshua is awaiting your presence in the private room, Lysander. I'll lead the way." Richard said, his tone shifting to one of seriousness.

He led the way, and Lysander walked behind him. In comparison to the latter’s august and intimidating manner, Richard looked almost like a pageboy.

As they passed through the banquet hall, Lysander's innate aristocratic demeanor drew the gaze of many an entrepreneur. They dared only to sneak furtive glances, not brazen enough to stare openly.

Thalassa could feel the weight of the collective attention as she followed behind them. It was not on her, but on Lysander. By his side, she too basked in the limelight, albeit vicariously.