The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Chapter 1424
Hertha was wracking her brain, trying to come up with an answer.
Alanc’s intense gaze was fixed on her, waiting for her response with stern anticipation.
The seriousness of his stare left Hertha nowhere to hide. She felt a chill in her heart, her eyes darting around as she desperately
searched for an excuse.
But that’s the thing about people, the more anxious they are, the less likely they are to come up with a good idea.
“Having trouble with the question?” Alaric asked, his eyebrow raised inquisitively as she remained silent.
“Of course not,” Hertha quickly retorted, finally finding her voice. “I used to help Thalassa with her four kids, you know. I spent a
lot of time with Thalassa’s mother, Evelyn Pendleton, taking care of those children. So, I understand the concerns of the elderly.
They worry about strangers who look too stern, fearing they might be kidnappers, or they stress over offending someone from an
affluent household, fretting about making life difficult for themselves and the kids. You wouldn’t understand the fears of the less
fortunate.”
As Alaric pressed her for an answer, Hertha finally had her eureka moment. She hurriedly explained to Alaric, speaking quickly
and breathlessly from her nerves.
The conversation circled back to the divide between the elite class and the commoners.
She hadn’t meant to imply anything, but Alaric took it to heart.
‘Do you care that much about social class?” he frowned slightly.
Was it the reason why she took the two million offered by his mother and left? Did she believe deep down that she could never
marry him because of their social class disparity?
Hertha paused, a light chuckle escaping her as she grasped his implication. “Alaric, you slept with me, taking your mother’s two
million was the least of what I deserved! It’s not about social differences. It’s about who’s truly a match. Do you get it?”
“And you think I’m not a match?” he asked, seizing the opportunity to probe deeper.
For three years, he’d been smothered by Georgia’s fiery temper, often missing Hertha’s straightforwardness and boldness.

Out of all the women he’d been with, it was Hertha he missed the most, and he couldn’t fathom why. Perhaps it was because she
was the only one he had feelings for.
Hertha was stunned. Alaric was actually asking her such questions. He had a fiancée, and asking her such a question seemed
quite out of place.
There was no chance for her and him.
‘Hertha, I haven’t stopped thinking about you in the past three years...”
Alaric’s confession was abruptly interrupted by a sudden voice.
Hertha, you’re back?
The voice drew their attention
Hertha and Alaric turned to see Spencer approaching. Tall and refined, with a scholarly air about him, he wore gold–rimmed
glasses and carried two plastic bags filled with groceries–vegetables, meats, toilet paper, soy sauce, and even ingredients for a
hearty
He epitomized domesticity.
Seeing Spencer Hertha felt like she had been thrown a lifeline. Her tension eased instantly, and she walked towards him with
relief. ‘Spencer, did you hit the supermarket?”
It wasn’t a question but a casual greeting, the kind of mundane exchange that could have passed between them a hundred
times, as natural and succinct as any between long–term partners.
Watching Hertha approach Spencer, Alaric noted the tone of ease and familiarity of their exchange,
It was like the everyday talks between his own parents.
It was clear–they had the comfortable, natural rapport of a married couple.
And with that, Alaric’s desire to confess his love for Hertha sank like a stone.