No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 631

No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I’m Done!

Chapter 631 Fog Over Premond

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Mason knew Premond far better than she did. His years studying here, combined with the Everetts‘ business network across Eropal, meant he had connections she could only guess at. He’d know how to get into that world.

Her mind was made up. Tomorrow, once Mason was awake, she was going to sit him down and get some

answers.

The decision settled something in her, and with it came a flicker of real excitement about the project. Ideas kept surfacing, half–formed and restless, but her body had reached its limit.

She closed the laptop, pressed her fingers against her tired eyes, and let out a slow breath.

Mason was sound asleep when she slipped into the bedroom. She eased back the covers and got in carefully, trying not to disturb him.

But the moment she lay down, the man who had been sound asleep seemed to sense something familiar. Without opening his eyes, he shifted with quiet ease, one arm reaching out and finding her waist with unerring precision, pulling her in until she was tucked entirely against him.

She went still for a moment. Then the familiar cedar scent of him reached her, and she relaxed.

He nestled against the curve of her neck, warm breath fanning soft and ticklish against her skin. Caught completely off guard, held without warning, Amelia felt something in her chest go quietly, helplessly soft, softer somehow than the moonlight falling over Premond outside the window.

Morning arrived without sun. What woke her instead was the faint drift of coffee.

Amelia blinked slowly. The bed beside her was empty, the sheets still warm. She got up, crossed to the window, and drew back the heavy blackout curtains.

Premond had disappeared into fog. A dense grey–blue haze hung over everything, softening the buildings along the river into shapes that barely held their edges. The Iofee Tower was just a suggestion in the distance.

The door opened behind her. Mason came in wearing a knit sweater, a cup of coffee in each hand, his voice carrying the low, unhurried quality it always had in the mornings.

“You’re up.”

Amelia turned, eyes settling on his face, and asked softly “Does your head still hurt? Have you adjusted to the jet lag yet?”

Mason came and sat beside her, smoothing her slightly rumpled hair with easy familiarity, the corner of his mouth lifting. “All good. Probably because you made sure I actually rested last night. Highly effective treatment.”

Amelia caught the tease in his voice and pressed her lips together, a little embarrassed, before straightening up. “Well, since you’re feeling better, there’s something important I need to tell you.”

-the article she had found the night before about the gifted She pulled him down to sit and laid it all out- Amitian designer from over 20 years ago, and everything she had pieced together from it.

“I think when Howard said the clothes were all destroyed in the fire, he meant as far as his employer knew.”

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Chapter 631 Fog Over Premond

Her eyes were bright. “If her work was that sought after

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Premond’s elite circles at the time, there have to be collectors who still have pieces today. Even one real garment would be enough. Even scraps. I could work out her cutting habits, her whole aesthetic logic, just from that.”

Mason listened without interrupting, his fingers moving slowly along his jaw as he turned it over. “Your instincts are good. Collectors tend to be fiercely protective of pieces like that, the rarer the better.”

He thought for a moment. “As it happens, I have a friend here I’ve known for years. His family is well regarded in Eropalean art collecting circles, and he has a serious obsession with vintage fashion in particular.”

“Really?” Amelia grabbed his sleeve.

“I can’t say for certain whether he has anything by the designer you’re looking for, but going to him will get you answers far faster than searching blindly online.” He patted her hand, signaling her to be patient. “I’ll reach out to him now.” He stood and walked out to the balcony.

Amelia watched him through the floor–to–ceiling glass. Mist drifted behind him as he stood with one hand in his pocket, phone to his ear, Farolian coming from him in a smooth, unhurried flow.

There was none of the sharpness he carried at work. What she saw instead was a kind of settled ease, an effortless composure that seemed to belong perfectly in this city, against this backdrop of fog and grey Premond light.

Something about it caught her off guard. Her heart kept its steady rhythm in her chest, but each beat landed squarely against something that felt very much like feeling something for him.