He Slept With Me for Revenge

Chapter 5 The Balance Had Tipped

Helena had barely stepped through the front door when Sebastian followed right behind her.

A faint sense of unease tugged at him—something in the house felt off, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was, no matter how hard he looked.

It wasn't until he walked into the bedroom and spotted the empty head of the bed that it hit him: the wedding portrait of him and Helena was gone, vanished without a trace.

His gaze fell on Helena, curled up under the covers, her figure looking small and fragile.

A sharp twinge shot through his heart, leaving him feeling breathless, as if someone had squeezed his chest tight.

He squatted down beside the bed, brushing her hair gently with his fingers. "Helena, don't be mad. I've been neglecting you these past few days, and it's all my fault. That friend of mine hasn't been feeling well, and she got into a car accident in my car. I was terrified something bad would happen and I'd have to answer to her family—that's why I was in such a rush."

Helena listened to his flimsy excuse, feeling utterly drained of the energy to argue.

She let out a soft "Hmm," her tears falling silently into the pillow, unseen by him.

*****

Determined to "make it up" to her, Sebastian showered her with gifts and offered to take her to a fashion show by a renowned designer—one Helena had long admired, a low-key talent with an imaginative eye.

A faint c***k appeared in Helena's calm expression; she nodded, agreeing to go.

Dressed in a sleek white dress, she arrived at the show with Sebastian, turning heads wherever they went.

Some stared because of her status as the Asher Group's heiress, others because of her reputation as a stunning beauty in her elegant gown.

Few knew, though, that she was the secret chief designer behind the Asher Group all along.

Helena had barely settled in to watch the show when Sebastian's phone rang.

She glanced at it instinctively, catching sight of a familiar profile picture—Margaret's.

Sebastian jumped to his feet, his tone a little flustered. "Helena, stay here. I'll be right back—I need to use the restroom."

Twenty minutes later, he returned, reeking of heavy perfume.

Helena frowned involuntarily but said nothing, her heart growing colder by the second.

As the show neared its end, Helena's eyes locked on a custom hand-sewn gradient starry blue gown. She raised her hand first, signaling her desire to buy it.

Sebastian turned to her immediately, a smile on his face. "You like it, Helena? I'll buy it for you right away."

A server approached, holding the neatly packaged dress. "I'm sorry, Ms. Asher, but another lady is also interested in this gown. It's hand-stitched by Alex Jefferson, one of a kind in the world. Could you two come to an agreement?"

Helena turned around, meeting a pair of provocative eyes.

Memories of the photos she'd seen on Sebastian's phone flooded back.

'So, Margaret is here, too.'

Before she could process it, Margaret glided over to them, oozing confidence. "Seb, what a coincidence running into you here."

Under Helena's scrutinizing gaze, Sebastian hesitated for a split second, his eyes darting away, before quickly regaining his composure. "Helena, this is Maggie—the friend I told you about earlier."

That backwards introduction stung. Helena felt a bitter twist in her chest.

'Who is really his wife here, anyway?'

Before she could speak, Sebastian cut in again, his tone casual as if it were no big deal. "Since Maggie likes this dress, let her have it."

Helena's brows furrowed slightly. "Why should I give it to her just because she likes it?"

Sebastian looked stunned—he hadn't expected her to refuse.

Margaret chimed in, a smirk playing on her lips. "Ms. Asher, you didn't know? Seb and I have been good friends for years. A dress is nothing between us, given how close we are."

The provocation was blatant, but Sebastian saw nothing wrong with it.

He nodded in agreement, his voice urging. "C'mon, Helena, be a good sport. It's just a dress."

He was completely oblivious—whether it was the dress or the blood donation, the balance had already tipped in Margaret's favor.