She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 1007

"Excellent." Morris retracted his hand, letting her take the bank card. His phone, resting casually on the table, buzzed. He picked it up and glanced at the screen.

Molly noticed how his gaze instantly softened. She knew right away it had to be from Helena.

The celebration dinner was at an exclusive private restaurant downtown, where Helena had booked the entire second floor.

Over twenty people from the studio crammed around a long table. Laughter echoed amid the clinking of glasses, and Helena, surrounded by her peers, wore a rare, relaxed smile.

No one noticed when the door was pushed open.

It wasn't until a coworker sitting near the entrance gasped and stammered out a shocked, "M-Mr. Lonsdale," that the whole room seemed to hit pause. Everyone froze mid-motion.

Morris wore a dark gray casual suit. He had skipped the tie, and his collar was unbuttoned at the top, making him look far more approachable than usual.

He motioned for everyone to sit back down. "Don't be so formal. I'm not here as your boss tonight."

The group exchanged bewildered glances before their eyes collectively darted toward Helena.

She had only sent him a text mentioning the studio's celebration dinner. She hadn't actually expected him to show up.

She figured he'd text back a simple "Congratulations," since he rarely bothered with these kinds of social events.

Morris walked naturally to Helena's side. A perceptive coworker quickly vacated a seat for him. As he sat down, his sleeve brushed against her wrist, leaving behind a subtle, clean scent.

"Tonight is Helena's night," he said, taking the glass of water a waiter offered him. His tone was as casual as discussing the weather. "She's footing the bill. I just snagged an invite to crash the dinner."

The tension in the room instantly evaporated.

Someone bravely cracked a joke. "Well, if you're crashing, you better eat up, Mr. Lonsdale! Helena really went all out tonight!"

The corners of Morris's lips twitched upward, but he didn't reply to the joke, merely turning his head to look at Helena.

She raised her glass and offered a toast. "Thank you for putting me in touch with the right people, Mr. Lonsdale. I wouldn't have even had a shot at a Golden Globe without your help."

He offered a gentle smile but simply picked up his glass of water to clink against hers. "You're being too formal."

Just last night, they had been exploring every physical boundary imaginable, and she had dominated him completely. Seeing him now, looking so impeccably dressed and gazing at her with those smiling eyes, made her heart skip a beat.

Her sexual resistance to this man was practically zero.

Thankfully, the conversation quickly shifted to the Golden Globes. Kaden, from the art department, was practically waving his hands in excitement. "Helena! You have to wear that dark green gown for the ceremony! I saw it in a magazine, and it looks like it was custom-made for you!"

"Oh, please," countered the sound engineer, Mr. Jefferson. "Dark green is too old-fashioned. That champagne mermaid dress is way better—elegant, sophisticated, and perfect for the red carpet."

But she didn't call him out on it. She just handed over the keys. "You drive, then. I've been drinking."

As he took the keys, his fingertips brushed her palm.

A few of her coworkers noticed the interaction. The more sober ones quickly caught on to the unspoken dynamic and dragged their oblivious friends away.

"Why are you pulling me? I live near Helena too! Maybe Mr. Lonsdale can drop me off."

"Shut up! Just keep walking!"

"Mmph!"

When the car pulled out of the underground lot, Helena leaned her head back against the passenger seat and closed her eyes.

The city lights streaked past the window, casting rhythmic flashes of neon across her face.

He was a smooth driver. There wasn't a single jerky stop or acceleration. Half-opening her eyes, she caught a glimpse of the GPS screen and realized he had already changed the destination to his estate.

She didn't say a word, just closed her eyes again.