CHAPTER 94: CHAPTER 94: BLAKE SINCLAIR’S FIRST LOVE (PART 2)

Celia Stiles finished her last bite of cake and continued, "Just ask directly! Senior, just go ask President Sinclair, he’ll definitely tell you."

During the brief moment when Celia was eating cake, Holly Crowe thought of many methods she could suggest.

Observing secretly, hinting indirectly, she even thought of hiring a private investigator. But she hadn’t thought Celia’s suggestion would be so... straightforward and direct.

Holly: "Huh? Ask directly?"

Celia: "Yes! Who could know the situation better than the person involved? Given President Sinclair’s attitude towards you, if you ask, he’ll surely tell you."

Holly’s mouth twitched slightly.

What a... blunt advisor she was.

The words left her speechless.

She had unnecessarily pinned her hopes on her.

But on second thought, what she said did seem to make sense.

After finishing the cake, they went their separate ways, and even after getting into the car, Celia clung to the window, reminding Holly not to forget to ask Blake Sinclair when she got home.

Once home, the professional gown styling team was already waiting by the door.

In the hours that followed, Holly felt like a doll.

Trying on clothes, trying on makeup and hairstyles, and in those short hours, she felt like she tried on more clothes than she would wear in a week.

It wasn’t until the final nude strapless long dress that everyone nodded in satisfaction.

After everyone left, Holly collapsed on the sofa, glancing at the time, it was almost 5:30.

The sun dipped below the horizon.

When Blake Sinclair got home, he saw Holly, lying half-asleep on the sofa, her eyes nearly closed, her hand still unconsciously swiping at the screen.

He smiled helplessly, approached quietly, and gently took the phone from her hand.

As he lifted her to carry her to the bedroom, Holly woke up.

"You’re back?" Her voice was drowsy, thick with sleep.

"Yes." Blake looked into her sleepy eyes, "Was it tiring this afternoon?"

Holly nodded, "Tried on so many clothes."

Blake kissed her forehead lightly, "I didn’t think it through."

He laid Holly on the bed, and she felt like she was being peeled like a boiled egg, piece by piece.

She yawned, opened her eyes, and realized her clothes had nearly all been removed by Blake.

Alright, she really was a boiled egg.

Seeing she was more awake now, Blake slowed his movements, "Why don’t you take a bath first? I’ve ordered dinner; it’ll be here soon."

Holly nodded.

The next moment, she was swept off her feet and carried into the bathroom.

"What are you doing? Weren’t you going to bathe?"

"Let’s bathe together; save time."

Holly: "...."

Like she’d believe him.

The sound of splashing water in the bathroom, occasionally interrupted by muffled whimpers and deep growls.

"Enough! Blake Sinclair, I’m going to fall, stop it.."

"Almost done, be good, almost..."

The night sky descended, stars appearing overhead.

Carrying Holly out of the bathroom and placing her on the bed, she felt weak all over.

She endured the discomfort, kicking the man beside her in protest.

Blake took the kick firmly, smiling as he pulled her closer, expertly massaging her waist.

Holly cuddled into his arms, finding a comfortable position.

"Do you want to eat? I can bring it in." Blake asked.

"Let’s go out and eat later." She replied lazily.

"Alright."

Holly enjoyed the rare tranquility, but her mind was in turmoil.

Questions about First Love and Yarrow grew wild like weeds.

Blake looked down at her, frowning in his arms, he’d noticed her distraction for some time.

"Did something happen today?"

He was merely asking for formality, as if Holly wouldn’t say, he could find out himself.

Holly paused, remembering Celia’s words, and hesitated before speaking, "I ran into Zion Pence today."

Blake’s hand paused for a moment.

Holly briefly explained the situation, deliberately skipping over the First Love part.

"He always thought the person that night was Frederick Fletcher." She concluded.

Blake was silent for a moment and tightened his grip, speaking sincerely, "Holly, thank you for telling me."

A sense of relief surged in his heart, at least Holly was willing to share these things with him, did this mean their trust had grown?

She was trying to open up to him, showing him her little world.

Holly adjusted her position, looking up at him, opened her mouth and asked, "And you, Blake Sinclair? Do you have anything you’re hiding from me?"

"No." Blake answered quickly.

He pulled her closer, his chin resting on the top of her head, "Why are you suddenly asking that?"

Holly shook her head lightly against his chest, suppressing her emotions, "Just happened to think of it, casually asking. It’s good if you’re not hiding anything from me, I hate it when people lie to me..."

She hid all her emotions, focusing on preparing for the charity auction the next day.

The next evening, the black Maybach slowly drove down September Road.

The sides of September Road were lined with plane trees from Vardenia, shading the sky, and at the end of the road was the white mansion, the venue for tonight’s auction.

This mansion had a long history, never open to the public.

Holly had only heard about the private auction held here monthly, where the final piece always fetched an exorbitant price, and only the wealthy or prestigious could enter.

She never imagined she’d be here one day.

From three blocks away near the mansion, security and control measures were already in place, with several checkpoints set up. At every intersection, security guards in black suits, metal detectors, and sniffer dogs checked every passing vehicle.

Only their vehicle passed unimpeded, driving directly to the mansion entrance.

The guards, upon seeing their car, respectfully opened the gate.

The ornate wrought iron gate slowly opened, then slowly closed.

The mansion had three floors, with an interior in a vintage Baroque style.

Upon entering, one could see a massive ornate oil painting, and the crystal chandeliers overhead shone brightly as if it were daytime, the thick handwoven carpet underfoot muffled all footsteps.

They followed the attendant to a VIP waiting room on the third floor, and along the way, Holly always felt a pair of eyes watching her, making her inexplicably uneasy.

The package was lavishly equipped, with a one-way glass opposite the main door offering a panoramic view of the auction hall below, ensuring excellent privacy.

They had just sat down to rest for a short time when there was a knock on the door.

A butler in a black suit and bow tie entered, bowing, "Young Master Blake, the host invites you over."

Blake nodded.

Holly gave him a puzzled look.

The host?

Young Master Blake?

At that moment, Blake stood up and extended his hand to her, "Let’s go."

Holly was momentarily stunned, silently taking his hand.

Just as they stepped out of the suite, a female voice with a foreign accent called from behind, "Hey, Arthur!"

Holly instinctively turned around, seeing a woman in a strapless black dress smiling sweetly at Blake, her gaze intimately fixed on him.

After a moment, she seemed to finally notice Holly beside him, her eyes flashed with curiosity and scrutiny.