The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet

Watching Hertha with those clear, unadulterated eyes full of straightforward honesty, Alaric found himself reconsidering the value of wealth for the first time in his life. He had always operated under the belief that there was no problem money couldn't solve; if there was, it simply meant not enough money had been offered. But Hertha's attitude shattered that notion.

"Whether or not you want me has nothing to do with whether or not you want a car. Don't mix the two," Alaric said, his tone now sincere and devoid of any previous air of superiority.

He genuinely wanted to gift Hertha a new car. The one she had been driving for years was an old stick shift, its performance deteriorating to the point of being nearly scrap-worthy. Considering Hertha's safety, Alaric wished to offer her a modern, reliable vehicle, one less prone to causing accidents. After several scary incidents on the road involving Hertha, Alaric was genuinely afraid.

Hertha studied Alaric's expression closely. His eyes, narrow and earnest, seemed to plead with her to accept his offer. His helpless yet honest look didn't seem fake.

"Do you really want to give me a car?" Hertha asked, still slightly skeptical.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"Absolutely," Alaric quickly responded. "You're the mother of my children. I can't bear the thought of them losing you to some car accident because of that old clunker."

His confession revealed his true

concerns. He could only justify his offer by invoking concern for their children, not daring to admit his fear of losing her himself. Despite her initial resistance, Hertha's heart softened at his words. Her round eyes twinkled mischievously as she grinned and asked, "So, are you taking me to the dealership?"

"I..." Alaric, ready to persuade her further, stopped mid-sentence, realizing she had already changed her mind. His dejected expression instantly brightened, and he said, "Let's head to the Maserati dealership!"

With that, he grabbed Hertha by the hand, changing their course.

"I was just kidding. How could I actually ask for a Maserati?" Hertha laughed. A Maserati, with its steep price tag, was far beyond a simple request. But she had a point. If Afaric was concerned enough about Ker safety to offer her a car, she saw no reason to refuse. "He's right. I am Julian and Helena's mother. What would happen to them if something happened to me?"

The thought of her children being left motherless, like driftwood in the ocean, was unbearable. As their father, Alaric had a duty to ensure her safety. "If he wants to gift me a car, I have no reason to refuse," she thought.

"But I do want to gift you a Maserati," Alaric insisted, holding her hand firmly, his tone serious. Lost in thought about what car she might

want, Hertha barely noticed the ghet

intimate gesture between them. Alaric's grip was tight, as if afraid of losing her, yet she didn't pull away.

After a moment of contemplation, she lit up, "Actually, let's check out the BMW dealership. I've always had a soft spot for BMWs."