Chapter 1485


    Thssa spun around, and there was Spencer, sporting a crisp blue shirt and te-gray cks,


    striding toward her with a plump chicken in his grasp.


    Relief washed over Thssa as she greeted him, “Spencer, did you go grocery shopping?”


    Spencer?


    The name struck ric like a hammer to the heart, his steps faltered, and he turned, the carefree


    smirk wiped clean off his face.


    Indeed, Spencer approached, a lively hen clutched in his hand.


    ric’s gaze fixed on the chicken’s clucking beak, a shiver running down his spine, his skin crawling


    with goosebumps. Rooted to the spot, paralyzed with dread, he couldn''t move an inch.


    Since childhood, ric had harbored an irrational fear of beaked creatures, chickens most of all!


    And now, as fate would have it, Spencer was parading the very object of his phobia. ric felt


    trapped, his blood running cold with rm.


    “Yep, picked up a chicken to make a hearty soup for Hertha—help with her recovery,” Spencer said,


    reaching Thssa''s side with a gentlemanly smile.


    Then, spotting ric not too far off, he added, “Mr. Falconer, you missed out on the mealst time.


    Stay for some chicken soup, will you?”


    With that, he lifted the chicken a tad higher, unting its quality, hinting at the savory broth it would


    yield. In a show of good faith, Spencer edged closer to ric, chicken in hand.


    Confronted with the chicken’s beak, ric’s deep-seated fear surfaced. He dodged behind


    Thssa, panic-stricken, urging Spencer, “Keep that thing away from me. Take it away!”


    Thssa turned to find ric cowering behind her, hisplexion ghostly pale.


    What on earth had gotten into him?


    Before she could puzzle it out, ric thrust something into her hands, his voice quivering with


    urgency. “Give this to Hertha for me. I’ve got to go!”


    Without another word, ric fled to his car, revved the engine, and sped off, leaving a trail of


    exhaust in his wake.


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    Thssa stood there, baffled. “What just happened?”


    The usually poised and graceful ric Falconer, always suave and a bit wicked, had bolted in sheer


    panic!


    It wasical, really, and Thssa couldn''t help but want tough, having never seen this side of


    ric.


    Spencer adjusted his sses and remarked, “Mr. Falconer seems to have a fear of chickens.”


    Thssa was speechless. She''d never heard of a grown man being terrified of a mere chicken.


    Hertha was in stitches when Thssa ryed the encounter with ric. Sheughed so hard she


    doubled over, her infectious cackle filling the room.


    “ric, afraid of a chicken? That’s just hrious!” Tears streamed down Hertha’s cheeks as she tried


    to regainposure. “And here I thought he was so smooth with thedies. To think he’s got such a


    weakness—I’ll just have to lock him in a room with a live chicken from the market if I ever need to


    put him in his ce. Imagine the chaos!”


    “Easy there, don’tugh yourself into a concussion,” Thssa cautioned, noting the intensity of


    Hertha’sughter.


    “No worries, I can handle it,” Hertha chuckled, dabbing at her tear-streaked face with a tissue.


    “Mommy, who’s ric? Do you not like him?” Helena toddled over, her big, innocent eyes brimming


    with curiosity.