The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Chapter 1411
Hertha glanced at the rear–view mirror, the figure of Alaric shrinking into the distance. A sigh of melancholy escaped her lips.
“Fate without destiny, that’s the cruelest thing,” Hertha mused.
At that moment, Alaric stood by the curb outside the hotel, his roguish, hawk–like eyes brimming with a sense of loss as he
watched Thalassa and Hertha’s car fade away.
Hertha had bolted out of the elevator with such haste, clearly avoiding him.
Once out, she’d grabbed Thalassa’s arm and hurried away. She just didn’t want to get too involved with him anymore.
She’d once fallen head over heels for him, launching into a relentless pursuit.
But now, she was not only pushing him towards Georgia but also avoiding him like the plague.
She’d even admitted to being won over by Dr. Funke’s character, which led her to confess her feelings to the doctor.
Indeed, she seemed fickle, a woman whose heart flitted from one to the next.
Realizing this, Alaric felt not just a surge of anger but also a profound sense of loss.
He had once looked down on Hertha, casually dismissing her fervent advances. But now, as her interest waned, he struggled to
breathe under the weight of his own disappointment.
Half an hour later, Thalassa dropped Hertha off at Gulfstream Community, a cozy residential complex.
Hertha had purchased a three–bedroom, two–bath unit there.
“Thalassa, come on up for a bit,” Hertha invited sincerely after stepping out of the car.
Being good friends, Thalassa didn’t stand on ceremony.
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Hertha led Thalassa into her home, and as they entered, they were greeted by a comforting scent of babies.
Just the aroma was intoxicating.

Inside, two adorable toddlers played on a foamy play mat, rolling a ball back and forth, giggling with the pure joy of childhood.
Near the door sat a chubby two–year–old boy with big, round eyes and a small mouth, the spitting image of Hertha.
By the couch was a two–year–old girl in pink overalls and a cute Peter Pan collar shirt. Her pigtailed hair framed a heart–shaped
face, her almond eyes sparkled, and dimples appeared when she smiled, reminiscent of a cute young fox.
“Julian, Helena, mommy’s home!” Hertha’s heart melted at the sight of her children. Her voice softened as she stepped forward,
slipping off her shoes.
The kids had been enjoying their game, but at the sound of their mother’s voice, their faces instantly lighting up with joy as they
looked up.
“Mommy!”
The boy, Julian Kensington, pushed himself up and toddled towards Hertha, arms outstretched.
The girl, Helena Kensington, her little face flushed with urgency, tried to stand but lost balance and plopped back down on the
play mat. Seeing her brother scooped up and herself still on the ground, Helena burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, Helena. Aunt Thalassa’s got you,” Thalassa quickly picked up the little girl, gently wiping away her tears.
The baby girl was so endearing that her presence filled with that comforting scent of innocence, just like Thalassa’s own Elowen
when she was that age–irresistibly lovable, melting hearts on sight.