chapter1057

Dr. Bennett said, "The patient was pregnant. She showed signs of a potential miscarriage due to some

strenuous activity."

"What?" Lysander was thunderstruck.

Thalassa was pregnant!

Seeing the worry etched deeply across Lysander's face, Dr. Bennett quickly added, "Fortunately, she

was sent here on time. We've put her on a therapy to support the pregnancy. With some rest, she

should be able to recover."

Dr. Bennett's soothing voice was meant to ease the tension that had tightened every muscle in

Lysander's body, to reassure him that there was no need for panic.

Strenuous activity? David caught the underlying meaning behind the doctor's words. He struggled to

keep a straight face, coughing lightly into his fist to hide the smirk that threatened to surface.

Lysander had only just got Thalassa back. His passion and rage must had been fiery, so his touch

would be far from gentle, without even knowing about her pregnancy.

Relief washed over Lysander as the doctor assured him there would be no lasting problems. His heart,

which had been racing like a trapped bird, finally began to slow.

At that moment, Thalassa was wheeled out of the operating room by the nurses and doctors.

Lysander approached, his gaze softening as he took in the sight of her lying on the sickbed. Her

complexion was pale as milk, her lips swollen and red, her energy at an ebb.

Seeing her so vulnerable melted the frost in Lysander's steely eyes, giving way to tendrils of

tenderness that enveloped him.

Thalassa caught Lysander's intense gaze, and she couldn't help but remember his brute force back at

Royal Estates. Her breath hitched, and she found herself unable to meet his eyes. Her lashes casting

long shadows as she looked away.

She was settled into a room. An IV drip delivered the medication to support her pregnancy. She was

laying there and purposely avoiding Lysander's presence. She couldn't believe she was pregnant – it

had never crossed her mind.

No wonder she had been feeling nauseous lately.

When had it happened?

Was it that day in Lysander's office when he had punished her against the glass door, indifferent to her

humiliation, while David walked by outside, coming and going?

Or was it in the backseat of the car with him overindulged?

There had been multiple instances where his discipline had been swift and without precaution.

Lost in her thoughts, Thalassa felt the bed dip beside her and turned to see Lysander sitting next to

her. The icy edge once present in his handsome features had now softened into his usual stoic

demeanor.

"Does your stomach still hurt?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly with concern.

Thalassa's breathing was uneven as she looked into his deep-set eyes. They were the same eyes that

had glared at her furiously at Royal Estates, but now they held a calm, and even a hint of... tenderness.

Her lips parted as she attempted to speak, her voice coming out raspy. "It doesn't hurt."

She hadn't spoken for a while, and now realized how hoarse and sore her throat was. A while ago, no

matter how loudly she had cried out, Lysander didn’t relented.

Lysander reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and held the straw to Thalassa's lips. "Drink

some water. It'll help."

Thalassa didn't want to accept his kindness. Her throat was parched, and she felt extremely

uncomfortable.

But the thought of accepting anything from Lysander after what he had done was too much; she

couldn't let go of her hurt that easily.

She stared at the straw, lips pressed tightly shut, unwilling to take a sip.