She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 1005

It was Morris who moved first, resting a hand on her back and stroking her gently, rhythmically.

Her back was slick with sweat, and his palm was damp, but he didn't let go.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

Helena let out a muffled laugh against his chest. "I should be the one asking you that."

"I'm fantastic." His eyes were shining with the brilliance of someone who had just discovered a new world. His voice had regained a bit of its usual smooth timbre, though a raspy undertone remained. "Never better."

Helena rolled off him, standing barefoot on the floor. She glanced back at the man still lying on the chaise.

His ankles were still secured to the sides, and his body was covered in the marks she had left—from the teeth marks on his Adam's apple to the scratches on his chest and the welts on his back. He looked like he had just endured an exquisitely gentle torture.

But he smiled at her—a genuine, lazy smile brimming with sheer satisfaction.

She looked away, forcing herself not to stare, and unbuckled his restraints.

Afterward, she went into the bathroom, took a quick shower, and changed back into the clothes she had arrived in.

Morris was still lying in the room, seemingly savoring the afterglow.

By the time Helena was putting her shoes on in the foyer, the sky was already turning a hazy gray with dawn.

It was almost ridiculous to think about—they had been at it all night.

Wearing a silk robe, Morris leaned against the wall in the hallway. "Not going to sleep?"

Helena glanced at him. "I have to go to work."

"I can approve your time off." He reached a hand out to her. "Come back to bed for a bit?"

She looked at his chest, exposed by the deep V of his robe, where her teeth marks were still visible. She shook her head, afraid she wouldn't be able to control herself if she stayed.

"I need to help finalize the score for the film. I'm skipping sleep."

He didn't press the issue. Just a second before she pushed the door open, he called her name softly.

"Helena."

She looked back.

He stood in the soft morning glow, a faint, elusive smile on his face. "When do you think I should make our relationship public?"

Helena was caught off guard. "What?"

"As my girlfriend. Or maybe, you want to get married right away?"

"...We'll talk about it later," she deflected.

Morris tossed his car keys to her. "It's hard to get a cab from up here. Take my car."

When the screen lit up, the caller ID made her pause, fork in hand.

Swain Carter.

She stared at the name for a moment before finally putting down her fork and swiping to answer.

She didn't say anything. The line was quiet for a second before Swain's forced, casual voice came through.

"Helena, you finally picked up. How was work yesterday? Are you busy? My networking event went really late last night, and I didn't want to wake you, so I didn't call to check in."

His tone was so natural, as if absolutely nothing had happened.

Her grip on the phone tightened slightly, and a cold sneer formed on her lips. She leaned back in her chair, keeping her voice entirely flat. "Oh. Well, if you're busy, I'm hanging up."

"Why have you been so distant lately?" Swain's voice took on a hint of grievance, even a subtle accusation. "Your texts are so dismissive, you keep bailing when I try to make plans, and now you don't even have anything to say to me on the phone? Helena, do you have a problem with me?"

She lowered her eyes, a vein throbbing at her temple.

So a man's first instinct when he messed up was to shift the blame to the woman to cover his own guilt?

The tactic was pathetically cheap.

"What problem do you think I have with you?" she countered.