She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 950

She only needed to work. She only needed to keep Morris's chaotic schedule perfectly organized.

But the pressure didn't disappear; it just went dormant.

During the buildup to a major international piano competition, Morris was appointed the youngest head judge in history. Every piece of PR, every media interview, and all the grueling logistics crashed squarely onto Helena's shoulders.

She hadn't had a day off in three weeks. She was sleeping less than four hours a night. Her phone rang endlessly, everyone was demanding her attention, and to make matters worse, a sudden crisis erupted with her toxic family.

The pressure swallowed her whole. Late at night, returning to her tiny apartment, she found herself kneeling on the freezing bathroom tiles, her forehead pressed against the edge of the toilet. She bit down hard on her own arm, tearing the skin until it bled, using the sharp pain just to hold herself together.

Then came the night she stayed at the office past midnight.

She had confirmed that Morris had left that afternoon for a private event in another city. The entire building was dead empty.

She couldn't hold it back anymore. Desperate, she sneaked into his private office. Surrounded by his scent—a scent that brought her an intense, undeniable comfort—she locked the door, pulled the blinds shut tight, and retrieved a small bag from the deepest corner of her drawer.

It held her tools.

She curled into his massive leather chair, closed her eyes, and surrendered to the dark.

She was too far gone to hear the door click open.

In the present, Morris stood in the guest bathroom, splashing water on his face as the exact same memory played in his mind.

He had come back to grab some sheet music he had forgotten. When he pushed the door open, he saw Helena curled in his chair, her face soaked in tears.

The lights were off, but the glow from the hallway spilled over her, illuminating exactly what she was doing.

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