She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 1009

Helena's face flushed hot, but she didn't pull away.

"Are you sure?" Morris's voice was gravelly, sounding like it was being squeezed from the very depths of his chest. He was offering her one last chance to back out.

She didn't answer. Instead, she reached down and unfastened his belt buckle.

The metallic click was sharp and clear in the quiet cabin.

That was her answer.

Morris stopped holding back.

They closed the distance between them, the temperature in the car skyrocketing...

Helena lost count of how many times they did it.

It wasn't until the first pale streaks of dawn broke across the eastern sky that everything slowly came to a halt.

She had absolutely no energy left.

After quickly cleaning himself up, Morris wrapped his suit jacket around her and carried her out of the car.

In a half-asleep haze, Helena felt the cool morning breeze brush her cheek, followed by the warm indoor air, and finally, an impossibly soft mattress.

She rolled over, burying her face into a pillow that smelled faintly of his signature clean scent, and fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke up again, she was alone in the room.

The blackout curtains were drawn tight, save for a single sliver where a beam of golden sunlight spilled in, landing perfectly on the wool rug at the foot of the bed like a glowing river.

It took her a few seconds to recall everything that had happened the night before.

She looked down at herself. She was wearing a men's silk pajama top that clearly wasn't hers. The sleeves were far too long, and the neckline was so wide it slipped off her shoulder.

But she felt clean and refreshed. There was no stickiness. Even her hair felt brushed and smelled exactly like the pillow.

"Hello, am I speaking with Ms. Helena?" It was a young woman with a polite, professional voice.

"Yes, this is she."

"Wonderful! This is Bloomberry Couture. Mr. Lonsdale has booked a fitting for your Golden Globes gown this afternoon at 2:00 PM. I'm just calling to confirm your schedule so we can finalize the transportation arrangements."

Bloomberry.

Helena's grip on the phone tightened.

She knew the brand intimately. It was a globally beloved label built from the ground up by Loyce. They also had a top-tier couture studio where a single gown could easily cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. It wasn't something you could just buy with money; it required a waiting list, extreme connections, and brand approval.

She remembered what he had told her in the car last night.

"Everything they suggested isn't nearly good enough for you."

He had already arranged everything. When it came to the Golden Globes, he had never intended to give her the option to say no.