chapter387

Inside the quiet room, the air was still. Dorian’s tiny hand clenched into a determined fist as he looked at his brother. “We have to find our own way to support Mom,” he whispered, his serious little face illuminated by the moonlight. “She’s carrying so much on her own.”

Atticus nodded, his eyes reflecting a maturity beyond his five years. They had previously noticed the heirloom token and the uncanny resemblance Atticus bore to the man in the headlines—Lysander Sinclair. While the connection seemed undeniable, their mother’s quiet denial had left them confused.

Now, seeing the exhaustion she carried after her long days at the Sinclair Group, the boys interpreted her silence as a form of protection. If the man who was supposed to care for them was instead a source of stress for their mother, they didn't need his recognition. Their loyalty was to Thalassa alone.

As the sound of the doorknob turned, the two boys instantly lay back down, settling into a perfectly rehearsed sleep.

Thalassa pushed the door open quietly. In the soft glow of the night, she surveyed her world. Elowen was sleeping sideways, her soft form taking up most of the center, while Sophia lay prone, her breaths rhythmic and sweet. Atticus and Dorian were at the foot of the bed, a picture of neatness and calm.

The room smelled of comfort and home—a stark contrast to the cold, high-pressure environment of the Sinclair Group. A gentle smile touched Thalassa’s lips as she moved Elowen’s leg to give Sophia more space, then carefully tucked the blankets around each of them.

Standing there, Thalassa felt a profound sense of security. But beneath that peace was a lingering anxiety. She knew now that Lysander was indeed the man from five years ago—the biological father of these four lives. Yet, the version of him she saw daily at the office was a man guarded by icy principles and unresolved resentments.

I can't risk their peace, she thought. If she told the children the truth, she feared their high expectations would only lead to heartbreak. Lysander had made his stance on family clear, and she wasn't ready to let his cynicism touch their innocent world.

She leaned down, pressing a light kiss to each of their foreheads. The healing power of their presence was her only antidote to the stress of the day.

“Mmm... Mom?” Dorian murmured, shifting slightly in his sleep.