She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 934

Chadwick Dawson's voice oozed with a slimy, forced warmth over the speaker.

"Ms. Turner, it's been far too long! I hear you've secured a spectacular new fabric down in Yarnwick City. Why didn't you give me a heads-up? We're colleagues in this industry, after all. We should be looking out for each other."

"Cut to the chase, Mr. Dawson," Giselle replied, her tone glacial.

Chadwick chuckled. "I appreciate a woman who gets straight to business. I'll lay it out for you. I want a piece of that supply chain you're sitting on. Don't worry, I won't take it for free. Name your price. Or better yet, we partner up. You supply it, I distribute it, and we split the profits fifty-fifty. Sound fair? You could even bump up the retail price, maximize those margins."

"I was under the impression we burned our bridges entirely," Giselle said, leaving absolutely zero room for negotiation. "Mr. Dawson, you've been gorging yourself on the luxury silk monopoly for over a decade. It's time to let someone else eat."

There was a dead silence on the line for two agonizing seconds. When Chadwick spoke again, the fake warmth was completely gone, replaced by a venomous growl. "Giselle, you are destroying the market. Pricing this stuff at a quarter of the standard rate? How are the rest of the silk manufacturers supposed to survive? You're not doing business; you're just vandalizing the industry."

"What market?" Giselle retorted coolly. "You think extorting people with sky-high prices is a 'market'? You think pumping out counterfeit blends is a 'market'? I gave you a chance to negotiate months ago."

Back then, he had smugly refused to lower his extortionate rates and practically guaranteed Bloomberry would be left with nothing. Now that his bottom line was bleeding out, he was suddenly eager to play nice.

Chadwick let out a harsh, chilling laugh. "Ms. Turner, you've got the fancy degree, you've lived abroad, you've seen the world. I'm just an old-school businessman. But there's one thing I know a hell of a lot better than you: these waters are deep. A young woman running around making enemies... doesn't your family worry about you?"

Giselle's expression hardened instantly. "Excuse me?"

Chadwick's voice dropped to a sickeningly sweet purr. "I hear you have a little girl. Absolute angel, right? Adorable. Is she in kindergarten yet?"

The color drained from Giselle's face. Beside her, Hank remained completely silent, but his eyes turned into chips of black ice, radiating a terrifying, suffocating danger.

Completely unaware that he had just signed his own death warrant, Chadwick kept talking. "My son is in kindergarten too. We should set up a playdate sometime. Kids need friends, you know."

"Chadwick," Giselle hissed.

The voice on the other end paused.

Giselle took a deep breath to steady herself. "Time and place."

Chadwick laughed, a grotesque sound that made Giselle want to reach through the phone and strangle him. "Now that's the attitude of a smart businesswoman. Tomorrow night. Seven o'clock. River's Edge. I'll be waiting."

The temperature in the car had plummeted. As soon as the call ended, Giselle immediately dialed Emma to check on Gigi.

Through the receiver, she could hear the comforting sizzle of a frying pan. "Gigi's watching cartoons right now," Emma said easily. "I'm making dinner. Is everything okay?"

Hank handed her a bottle of water. "The housekeeper thought I wasn't in town, so the fridge is empty. What do you want for dinner? Should we just order delivery?"

Giselle took a sip and shook her head. "I don't want takeout. I've practically been living off it while trying to launch this new line."

Hank couldn't resist reaching out to gently cup her cheek. She had been so swamped with work lately that they had barely seen each other. He had missed her like crazy, and now that he finally had her here, he wanted to drag the evening out for as long as possible.

"Grocery store?"

Giselle nodded. "Sure."

There was a high-end supermarket just a seven-minute walk down the street.

Giselle walked ahead, pushing the shopping cart, while Hank strolled casually beside her. He had one hand tucked into his pocket and the other resting lightly on the edge of the cart, pausing patiently whenever she stopped to inspect an item.

The domesticity of it made a memory flash in his mind—the time he had watched Giselle grocery shopping with that piece of trash she used to date, grinding his teeth until his jaw ached. Now, he was the one standing proudly by her side. A deeply satisfied smirk played on his lips. He was enjoying this way too much.

"How about steak?"