The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

“It’s okay. I got this.” She gulped down the lump of desolation in her throat, her
eyes red with unshed tears.
“Danielle, you’re really hurt. Your knee is bleeding so much.”
Danielle let out a wry laugh, the pity and doubt in the bystanders’ glances
making her skin crawl with humiliation. “I’m not about to bleed out or anything.”
Desolation was all she could feel.
What was hurt? It was being pampered by Seth for three years, flaunted so
everyone knew she was his precious gem, endowed with boundless pride and
arrogance, only to have it all shattered in public.
Enter title…
Three years. She stood by him for three grueling years, through his toughest
times, thinking something would change. But in the end, she still lost to
Cicely.d2
Even with Cicely’s past, her time behind bars, Danielle couldn’t win.
What was so special about Cicely anyway? Was it her privileged upbringing, her
brattiness, her temperamental nature, or just her pretty face and figure?
If it was the latter, was she not enough now?
Pushing back the tears threatening to fall, Danielle shrugged off her assistant’s
offer to treat her wounds. “No need, it’s not like I’m gonna die.”
“Danielle.”
“I said no!”
Danielle suddenly roared, cutting off the assistant’s further attempts to help.
The others glanced her way, their looks tinged with a mix of emotions.
*
Cicely was carried straight into the hospital by Seth, with Charlie bustling around
to complete the paperwork.
Scrapes covered her left arm, half her torso, and legs to varying degrees.
As she stripped down to clean her wounds, Seth stood by, a silent sentinel.
Cicely had calmed down during the ride, but the thin summer clothes did little to
shield her from the pain of her abrasions. She bit her lip, sitting as the nurse
treated her, her face pale.
Whenever the nurse touched a sore spot, Cicely’s eyes would flicker shut, her
body tensing up, beads of sweat forming on her forehead and nose, but she
never made a sound.
Seth’s features were set in a stony mask, his mood sinking further. The woman
who used to sob about a sore wrist was now silent.
By the time the nurse finished, Cicely was drenched in sweat, and the doctor
looked almost as frazzled. Seth’s intense gaze made the air in the room drop a
degree colder whenever Cicely so much as flinched. The doctor seemed to
struggle to breathe, suffocating under the pressure.
“Ms. Cicely, you should avoid showers for now. Just wipe down with a towel,
and stay away from spicy or irritating foods,” the doctor advised, and Cicely
nodded silently, memorizing his words before turning to find her clothes.
Her clothes were a mess, torn and dirty. She’d been too distressed to care
before, but now, in the sterile hospital room, they looked even worse. Cicely
glanced at them, still intending to put them on.
This action made Seth’s heart clench inexplicably. He stepped forward and took
her hands in his.
Cicely frowned at him. “I’m not feeling great, and I don’t have the energy to talk.
Can whatever you want to say wait?”
Seth gave her a curt look. “I’ve brought you new clothes. Forget about those.”
Cicely didn’t respond, her silence cold. To her, Seth’s rescue was a fact, but so
was his actions before he left days ago, almost cruel in its severity.
She remained silent, her gaze dropping to his hands, which had been cleaned
but still wore his bloodstained suit cuffs. From the moment they’d entered the
hospital, she hadn’t seen him take a moment to tend to his own wounds.
Cicely pressed her lips tightly together, then looked away.
Seth’s phone rang, and he answered with a curt “Yeah” before stepping out. But
within a minute, he was back, carrying a bag emblazoned with the logo of
Cicely’s favorite clothing brand.
“Put it on.” Seth placed the bag next to her.
Cicely gave the bag a fleeting glance, then pulled out a simple, V-neck sky blue
chiffon dress with bishop sleeves. The style was one she liked, and the
conservative cut was undoubtedly Seth’s preference.
As she began to slip into the dress, the movement tugged at her wounds, and
she hesitated. In that moment, Seth had taken the dress from her and was
helping her into it with an expressionless face. The dress fit perfectly.
Cicely watched him throughout, the gesture feeling surreal, as if from another
life. “Ready to go?” Seth suddenly asked, his voice smooth and deep.
Cicely looked down at the dress. It was nice. She tried to walk toward the door,
but her leg injury made her freeze mid-step. The next second, she was lifted into
strong arms and carried toward the exit.
Cicely’s expression darkened. “Put me down!”
Seth glanced down at her. “Can you walk on your own?”
“No, but I hate feeling dirty even more.”
Seth stopped in his tracksSeth’s gaze dropped slowly and fixated on her face, the dark pools of his eyes
holding a deep, chilling stillness. His expression was unreadable, yet an
unsettling wave of icy austerity seemed to emanate from his tall frame.
“Dirty?”
Cicely lowered her eyes and repeated, “Yeah, I just put on a new dress, and I
don’t want to be covered in stains right away.”
There was a slight pause in Seth’s brow, then Cicely urged again. “Put me
down.”
At that moment, the doctor who had been quietly observing finally spoke up.
“Mr. Diaz, shouldn’t we take care of your arm first? I see there’s blood on your
Enter title…
sleeve.”
A flash crossed Seth’s eyes, the cool gaze that had been resting on Cicely
suddenly warmed with a hint of a smile. When he spoke again, his voice, usually
steeped in indifference and depth, carried a trace of pleasure. “I don’t think I got
any on your dress.”d2
Cicely frowned, “I don’t like the way you smell.”
With an almost imperceptible smile of his lips, Seth turned and gently placed her
back on the bed. “Sit tight. Wait for me.”
Cicely turned her head away. “You can treat your wound here. I can go out on
my own.”
“Who said I’m going to treat my wound?” Seth’s voice was laced with
amusement, tightening Cicely’s frown even more as she turned to give him a
cold stare, only to meet his handsome features softened by a shallow smile.
He was also shedding his clothes to better hold her. The suit jacket he’d opened
for convenience was discarded to the side, revealing a white shirt smeared with
blood on the right sleeve.
Cicely involuntarily scrunched her brow. She hadn’t been injured this badly when
she was pulled up from the cliff, so how come he ended up looking like this?
Was it really necessary?
Seth didn’t take off the shirt. After calling Charlie on his cell phone to prepare a
clean set of clothes, he simply slipped his right arm out of its sleeve.
Cicely sat on the bed while Seth took a seat in the nearby chair, his left side
facing her, so she couldn’t see the extent of the damage to his right arm. She
only heard the doctor’s surprised exclamation, “How did it get so bad?”
Cicely glanced at him, her gaze finally resting on his shoulder.
“It looks like it was impaled by something sharp and rough, not treating it
immediately could lead to infection and pus, and there’s even a high risk of
necrosis in the entire right arm.”
Cicely’s fingers trembled slightly on her lap.
“Do you treat patients with your mouth?” Seth glared at the doctor, his cold face
carrying a warning. The doctor quickly shut up and silently began cleaning
Seth’s wound.
Cicely sat on the bed, the intermittent scent of blood and antiseptic wafting over,
as blood-soaked gauze after gauze was tossed into the trash can beside her.
Her gaze shifted slowly from the trash can to Seth’s profile. His features were
like a divine gift, each line connecting them giving absolute tension to his every
subtle expression.
His profile was unquestionably striking, but at that moment she could also see
the tension in his jawline. It really must hurt.
She thought back to how tightly he had held her on the set, his expression as
cold and terrifying as it had been that night when he had forced himself on her
mercilessly.
However, when she had been dangling from the edge of the cliff, facing that
same face, she really never doubted for a moment that he would let go. And he
didn’t, even though he seemed to be seriously injured, he didn’t let go, instead
carrying her all the way to the hospital.
Three years…
Even if he had been relentless then, three years should have worn away at
anything.
Like her, like him.
Who knew that three years later, they both seemed to be still living in the past.
Yet everything had changed.
After what felt like an eternity, Seth’s wounds were finally tended to. Compared
to Cicely, Seth’s injuries were more severe, but the doctor found treating him
much easier than dealing with her.
With a sigh of relief, the doctor stood up, busying himself with packing his
medical kit and offering some final advice.
Seth didn’t listen, just picked up his phone and dialed Charlie, then barked two
words—”Come in.”
No sooner had the sound faded than the door opened, and Charlie walked in
carrying two bags. One held a shirt and the other a suit jacket.
As if the wound on his arm didn’t hurt, Seth dressed himself, adjusted his
clothes without showing any signs of pain. Once he was fully dressed, Seth
turned to her, looking fresh and untroubled as he approached. “Still dirty?”
Dirty?
The brand-new, expensive shirt and suit were crisp and impeccable, far from
any notion of “dirty.”
Cicely didn’t answer his question, but instead pushed herself off the bed to
stand.
Seth’s dark eyes followed her, blocking her path, unmoving. “Move aside. I want
to leave.”
Seth stayed put, his voice low and raspy as it slowly filled the room, “Can I hold
you now?”
Cicely’s brow furrowed, and she glared at him. “Have you never held a woman
in your life?”
Seth nodded faintly, hummed an acknowledgmentCharlie and the doctor stood in awkward silence. Wasn’t this a bit brazen? How
could Seth admit that?
Even Cicely was taken aback before she scoffed coldly. “Did you leave your
brain overseas or something? Danielle isn’t a woman?”
Seth just grunted in response.
Charlie and the doctor exchanged perplexed glances.
Cicely frowned, giving Seth a look like he was some sort of alien creature.
Nutjob.
Enter title…
She decided she’d had enough and turned to leave, but Seth caught her arm.
“You’re hurt, I’ll carry you.”d2
“Are you out of your mind?”
He didn’t reply, just stared at her for a couple of seconds and then, bending
down, lifted her in his arms.
“Seth!”
“Stay still, my arm hurts.”
His voice was a low, husky whisper, and the word ‘pity’ flowed from him with an
ease that seemed out of place.
Cicely paused, “It’s none of my business even if you’re crippled.”
His eyes darkened, and he gave her a haunting look. “You’d fall.”
Almost instinctively, she tightened her grip on his shoulder.
A subtle smile apppeared on Seth’s lips as he glanced at Charlie, who hurried
forward to open the door.
Cicely snapped back to reality, “Put me down. Charlie can carry me.”
Charlie almost collapsed right there. Gosh. What was she thinking.
“No way,” Seth immediately shot down the idea.
“Seth!”
“If you say another word, I’ll fire Charlie.”
Charlie clasped his hands together, pleading with his eyes, almost ready to
kneel.
Cicely was speechless. Who taught Seth to be so shameless?
Meanwhile, in the distant land, within the top floor conference room of Obsidian
Group’s skyscraper, several CEOs sneezed one after another. Damon, sitting at
the head of the table, glanced at them before picking up his phone.
His face was expressionless, so aloof it seemed he must be dealing with a
project worth astronomical figures, but only Nate knew how many people had
been deceived by that facade.
Nate watched as Damon opened the messaging app and typed: [I think I’ve
caught a cold], even adding a ‘pitiful’ emoji.
Nate could only shake his head.
Chloe, on receiving the message, couldn’t help but chuckle and replied with a
‘hug and kiss’ emoji, followed by, [I’ve prepared some medicine for you. Have a
couple of bags when you get back as a precaution.]
Damon stared at the emoji for a long moment before he replied with a simple
[Okay.]
Chloe sent back a ‘good boy’ emoji.
Damon put down his phone with a satisfied smirk. When he looked up again, his
face was as cold as ice.
Nate sighed inwardly. He thought to himself that he was working for a man with
split personalities.
*
From the hospital to the car, then from the car to the apartment, Cicely was
gently laid on the bed, and Seth removed her shoes, setting them aside.
He had done things like this before, but times had changed. Now Seth was a top
mogul of P City, a heavyweight in the entertainment industry, sophisticated,
aloof, and untouchable, perched on a pedestal everyone looked up to.
To do such things for her now, who had fallen from grace and served time,
seemed too much of a condescension. She didn’t deserve it.
“Rest up for a bit. What do you fancy for dinner?” Seth asked.
Cicely seemed lost in thought before finally saying, “Before I rest, I’d like to
freshen up.”
Seth nodded, “I’ll help you…”
“I’m not disabled.” Cicely cut him off coldly, “I’ve survived on my own until now.
There’s nothing I can’t get through.”
She feared pain. She really did, but she had given birth to a child.
Seth’s eyes, veiled in shadow, became husky with restrained emotion. “You
don’t have to now.”
“No.” Cicely uttered firmly, looking at the top of his head as he knelt before her,
her fingers gripping the sheets behind her. “There’s nothing more agonizing in
this world than being with you. With you, days feel like years. Why else do you
think I chose jail back then?”
Seth’s dark eyes suddenly contracted. The room fell eerily silent, the air seemed
poisoned, and each breath felt like a sting to Seth’s heart. She was using her old
tricks again. Without lifting a finger, just a few words from her mouth could land
a precise blow to his heart.
“I’ll have someone come up to assist you.” He stood up, not wanting to continue
the conversation.
“Seth, you don’t have to feel sorry for me. Honestly, your apologies don’t matter
to me. No matter how sorry you are, it won’t bring back what I lost, and no
matter how much I hate you, I can’t avenge anyone.
“An eye for an eye isn’t something I believe in, and my dad wouldn’t want me to
throw my life away over it. Legally speaking, you haven’t done anything wrong,
so I can’t hold you accountable. Even if I did, it would just be a waste of my time
and effort.
“The best way for us to get along is to be strangers. There’s no better solution
than that. Seth, let me go, let’s set each other free.”
Cicely had never spoken to Seth so calmly. And now, she was saying so much
in one breath. Perhaps it was because he had saved her today, and gratitude
had stirred within her.
From the beginning, she had said she was easy to please. Just a few kind
words or a gesture that didn’t upset her, and she’d let bygones be bygones.
Now, he had saved her. And he was so concerned about her injuries, that he’d
gone out of his way. It grated on her, and it made her waver. She decided to
retract her claws and have a heart-to-heart with him.
The last sliver of orange light on the room’s carpet faded away, and the sky
outside began to draw the curtains of night as the sun made its daily retreat.
Silence. A silence so profound it seemed to swallow even the sound of
breathing.
“I can’t let go.”
It was a long while before Seth spoke those words.
Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze, his dark pupils settling on Cicely with an
intensity that seemed to hold a thick, indissoluble torrent of emotions. Complex
and contradictory, they wove together in his eyes.
“Setting you free doesn’t mean setting me free. No one will ever set me free.”Cicely’s fingers trembled slightly, “Do you find this amusing?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t find it the least bit funny, Seth. This isn’t the life I want, you know?”
Seth slowly stood up, his hand gently caressing her soft cheek. “You don’t find it
amusing. It’s not the life you want. But letting you go isn’t the life I want either.”

A pang shot through Cicely’s heart, followed by a surge of helplessness. As long
as he didn’t let her go, she was condemned to live under his watchful eye.
She had to dwell in a castle perched on the edge of a cliff, indulging in the finest
luxuries life had to offer, only to find that beyond the door lay a sheer drop into a
Enter title…
roiling sea of molten lava. One wrong step meant oblivion.d2
“So, what now? Your words sound so sweet and caring, but the truth is that
you’ve been doing just fine without me these past three years.”
With fast cars and beautiful women, he seemed to be living the life of a winner.
She didn’t want to bring up the matter of Danielle with him. It made her sound
like a jealous shrew.
After her words fell into silence, the room lapsed back into quiet.
“But I want to live better.”
Cicely scoffed, brushing his hand from her arm, “So I’m just a sacrifice for your
better life?”
Seth pursed his lips, his hand naturally retreating to his side. “I’ll have someone
come and help you clean up.”
Cicely closed her eyes. The negotiation had failed.
Seth called in the housekeeper. Cicely didn’t refuse, but once the door was
closed, she mostly tended to herself. Aside from the unreachable spots on her
back, where the housekeeper insisted on helping, it was all Cicely.
The housekeeper was always on edge watching Cicely. Cicely’s injuries weren’t
light, but they weren’t critical either, and Cicely could manage most of her daily
needs.
For some reason, every little thing seemed so much more dramatic with Cicely,
and yet it all felt so natural.
Cicely remained silent throughout, merely frowning and pausing when the
housekeeper touched a sore spot before continuing.
At first glance, Ms. Cicely was a stunner, with a figure that would turn heads in
all of P City.
It was understandable that a man like Mr. Diaz, wealthy and powerful, would
choose to keep such a beauty by his side.
In this society, a man could have whatever he desired. With his means, it was
the time of his life to be indulgent. To not live it up would be a waste of his
assets.
But keeping such a beauty was like tending to a delicate deity. She wasn’t there
for his happiness; she was a source of constant unease.
After making sure Cicely was tucked into bed, the housekeeper went
downstairs. Seth was alone in the kitchen preparing dinner.
The servants whispered amongst themselves, astonished. Even Danielle, the
well-known girlfriend, hadn’t enjoyed such treatment.
He was making several dishes, all Cicely’s favorites. The housekeeper once
offered to help in the kitchen, reminding him that he had injuries and should
avoid the heat, but Seth had casually declined.
He spent over an hour cooking alone. Once the dishes were ready, he arranged
them on a tray and carried them upstairs.
Cicely was still asleep. Seth glanced at the darkening sky outside, set the tray
down, and sat on the bed near her.
The air conditioning was set low in the room; she liked to sleep under a blanket
in the cool air. Her hair spread across the pillow, her sleeping face peaceful and
serene.
She used to cuddle up to him at the sight of him. Now, she seemed to sleep just
fine on her own.
“Good girls fear persistent suitors, and women can’t resist tenderness. Shower
her with kindness, and she’ll eventually cave. Look at Damon. You think his wife
came by chance? Besides, it’s not like she doesn’t love you.”
Kane could speak his mind, and Seth would tolerate it. Truth be told, for Seth,
cornered and nearly besieged, any shred of hope was worth trying.
Seth smelled of cooking, and soon Cicely’s brows knit together, her lashes
fluttering open. Seeing Seth, her heart skipped a beat.
“It’s time to eat.” Seth felt a tinge of regret; he had wanted to stroke her face.
Cicely pursed her lips, turning over, “I’m not hungry right now.”
After a pause, Seth’s voice tightened, “Get up and eat if you’re awake.”
“I haven’t slept well. I feel sick, and I have no appetite. Take the food out. The
smell is nauseating.”
Seth’s facade of calmness cooled. His dark gaze fixed on Cicely’s delicate
profile, inscrutable.
Their encounters were mostly confrontational or tense standoffs like this one.
After a while, he stood up, taking the tray with him. “I’ll have someone make you
a fresh pot of soup.”
Without a response, Seth left the bedroom.
The housekeeper looked at the untouched dinner on the tray, at a loss for
words. She had thought that a dinner prepared by Mr. Diaz himself would surely
move Ms. Cicely, but it remained untouched. In fact, she not only left it
untouched but also found it repulsive.
Seth’s face masked a brewing storm, but his voice was surprisingly calm.
“Make her a fresh batch of soup, and bring it up to her.”
The housekeeper could only comply.
Seth glanced at the untouched meal, his hand clenched into a fist on the table’s
edge. Something within his chest rolled and swelled. He wanted to drag that
heartless woman out of bed and ask what it would take to please her.
But he knew she’d only have one answer: to let her go.
And that was impossible.
As the housekeeper emerged from the kitchen, Seth, wrapped in a cold aura,
grabbed his keys and strode towards the door. If he didn’t leave now, he feared
he might lose control and trap them both in a deadlock.
“Sir, where are you going?”
All she got in return was the sound of the door slamming shut, making her flinch.
Seth had always been the epitome of composure, a man who carried himself
with scholarly detachment, his emotions as hidden as a well-kept secret.
However, when it came to Ms. Cicely, his facade would crumble, leaving his
feelings bare for the world to see.
The housekeeper shook her head in gentle disapproval, then proceeded to the
kitchen to follow orders. She prepared a soothing pot of soup and a couple of
light side dishes, which she carefully carried upstairs.Seth’s stern visage was frosted over, his knuckles white as he gripped the
steering wheel of his sleek black sedan. The incessant buzzing of his phone on
the passenger seat was a nuisance he had no intention of entertaining.
His car sliced through the city, finally halting outside a grand estate on the
outskirts, the gates slowly parting as if sensing his arrival. The mansion’s lights
burst on, illuminating the opulence that could only be described as resplendent.
He drove through the gates, pulling up to the front door where a figure waited,
deferential in their greeting. “Mr. Diaz.”
Seth remained silent, striding into the mansion.
Enter title…
The place was a beacon of light, immaculately clean, as if preserved in time
from the day she left. She had overseen every detail, handpicked the furniture,
and designed the layout. It was nearly ready for them to move in, just a month
shy of completion, yet three years had passed without her return.
Once unfamiliar with the surroundings, Seth now navigated the halls with ease.
He ascended the staircase, the servants closing the doors behind him, boiling
water but not daring to disturb him upstairs.d2
She had even selected the bedroom’s bedding, a solid sea blue. He shed his
coat, intending to lie down as he always did, but his arm was bleeding. He
paused, sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed, his gaze fixed on the
moonlight outside the window as he sought to quell the restlessness in his
heart.
This was their home.
For three years, no matter how busy, if he was in the city, he made sure to
return here, to the woman he imagined would always be waiting—his wife. The
least he could do as a husband was to come home at night.
And so, he returned to the room that should have belonged to them both.
Still, he clung to a hope.
Three yearsg.
She would have to come out eventually, right?
When she did appear before him, it felt like another interminable wait had just
begun. Would she destroy everything in the house, or perhaps set the entire
estate ablaze with her fiery temperament?
That wouldn’t do. Absolutely not.
Time stretched on until a knock on the door pulled Seth from his reverie. “Who
is it?”
“Mr. Diaz, it’s me.”
Charlie’s voice was soft from the hallway. Seth frowned, realizing it was ten
o’clock. He had been sitting there for two hours.
“What is it?” The voice came out of the closed room, dark and dull.
Charlie hesitated before speaking, “Ms. Danielle is in the hospital. She’s been
injured on set and refuses to cooperate with the doctors.”
Before Charlie could continue, the door swung open.
“Mr. Diaz…”
With a darkened expression, Seth moved past him, “To the hospital.”
Seth put on his jacket as he walked away, and Charlie’s expression changed
drastically when he saw the blood seeping out of Seth’s arm.
“Your arm…”
“We’ll talk at the hospital.”
Charlie sprung into action, descending the stairs to fetch the car. On the
passenger seat, Seth’s phone lay abandoned, now being charged by Charlie. “It
died. Ms. Danielle’s assistant couldn’t reach you, so they contacted me.”
“Mhm.”
Seth responded curtly, ignoring the constant ringing of his phone, knowing it
was Danielle’s people on the other end. The phone must have shut down due to
their persistent calls.
Upon arrival at the hospital, Danielle was vehemently refusing the doctors’
attempts to treat her infection, insisting on a shower despite her fever and pale
lips.
Seth entered, and Danielle’s tears began to flow at the sight of him. “Why are
you here?”
His frown deepened as he looked at her, “Do you have to cause a scene every
time you’re sick, to the point of exhausting everyone around you?”
Feverish and barely coherent, Danielle had stubbornly waited for him, and he
had come, after all.
Her assistant, worn out by her antics, turned to Seth in relief, “Mr. Diaz,
Danielle’s wound is infected, and she insists on showering before it’s dressed.”
His voice turned icy, “Stop being foolish.”
Danielle wiped away a tear, defiant, “Is wanting to be clean now considered
foolish? I’ve fallen into dirty water countless times on set, exposed to all kinds of
bacteria, and no one cared. Now I want a shower to feel clean, and you call it
foolishness?”
Seth’s brows furrowed further, “Get dressed first, then you can clean up.”
“No.”
She refused outright, and his patience waned, “Danielle, don’t test my limits.”
Her heart tightened, tears flowing more freely, “You’ve been here less than two
minutes, and you think I’m already testing your patience?”
A mocking laugh escaped her, her tearful eyes laced with scorn. “Or perhaps
someone else has already ground down your patience, so now you’re taking it
out on me?”
No names were mentioned, but the insinuation was clear.
Charlie, sensing the tension, interjected cautiously, “Ms. Danielle, Mr. Diaz was
injured, and he came straight to you before getting treated.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Danielle’s face as she noticed his arm, then
seemingly out of strength, she collapsed onto the bed.
Injured? How could he be injured just after returning from abroad? It could only
be the wound he sustained trying to save Cicely. And now she was expected to
feel sympathy for a man injured while saving another woman?
Bitter laughter filled the room as the doctor stepped forward to treat Danielle’s
wound. This time, she said nothing, her gaze a mixture of emotions as she
stared at Seth. “Where is she now?”
Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. The question seemed too late. Hadn’t Cicely
been living in Emerald Valley Estates for quite some time now? The thought of
spilling the beans now and stirring up a tempest was the last thing anyone
needed.
Seth pursed his lips, gazing at her with a weighty silence that filled the space
between them.
“You didn’t rush her to this hospital, did you? After all, when you found out she
was hurt, you were frantic, scooping her up and dashing off. This has to be the
place, right?”
“It was you who sent her tumbling down.”
Seth’s voice was deep, a hint of a storm brewing in his eyes as he locked gazes
with Danielle.
One couldn’t tell if he was simply lamenting about cleaning up the mess Danielle
had inadvertently caused, or if he was mentally bookmarking this incident for a
future reckoning. The fine line between the two intentions was as blurred as the
mist on a cliff’s edge. Danielle forced a bitter smile. “So what now?”
“There’s no ‘so what.’ Stop fussing and let the doctor put on this ointment.”
Seth’s voice was gruff, but it managed to soothe Danielle’s nerves a bit. “I
thought you were going to give me a piece of your mind over her later.”
Seth’s expression was nonchalant. “A piece of my mind? What, by letting her
push you over the edge so I can play the hero again?”
The tears on Danielle’s face slowly stopped. She fixed her gaze on him, “So
what you’re saying is, if it had been me about to fall today, you would have
jumped to save me just the same?”
Enter title…
Seth pursed his lips, “You think I’d just watch you fall?”d2
Danielle’s face was a picture of hurt but then she chuckled, shaking her head,
“No, you wouldn’t.”
He certainly wouldn’t. Not in any sense of the word.
Danielle’s spirits lifted, and she didn’t make any more of a scene. “You should
get that wound checked too.”
The doctor added, “Yeah, if it gets infected, you’ll be on an IV drip before you
know it, and that’s just more wasted time.”
“An IV drip?” Danielle’s face fell, watching Seth with concern, “I don’t want to be
hospitalized..”
“Just follow the treatment,” Seth said coolly, his few words leaving no room for
debate.
“But will you stay here with me?”
“I’ll have Charlie stick around for anything you need.”
“Can you wait to leave until I fall asleep?”
＊
The eighteenth floor of Emerald Valley Estates was a mess.
When the housekeeper went upstairs to bring Cicely some chicken soup, she
found Cicely restless in her sleep, flushed with fever. Reaching out, the
housekeeper felt the heat radiating off Cicely.
Trying to reach Seth was futile. Calls went unanswered, and soon his phone
was off.
The staff hustled to cool her down, but Cicely’s expression grew more pained.
Remembering Cicely’s injuries, and how she’d accidentally touched them while
bathing Cicely, the housekeeper panicked. If Mr. Diaz found out Cicely had been
sick without proper care, they’d all be in for it.
With no options left, she thought of Chloe living downstairs and knocked on her
door.
Luckily, Chloe was awake. Hearing about Cicely’s injury and fever, she slipped
on a coat, grabbed her car keys, and drove them straight to the hospital.
On the way, Chloe asked, “Where’s Seth?”
The housekeeper sighed, “We can’t reach him. He cooked dinner for her, but
Ms. Cicely didn’t eat. Probably another tiff.”
Chloe smirked, knowing their relationship had never been smooth. But Seth was
getting wise, cooking dinner for her this time.
The hospital was swarming with press for some reason. Chloe glanced over
them, her brow furrowing slightly as she arranged Cicely’s admission and
tedious paperwork.
Once done, the housekeeper and another maid sighed in relief. “Thanks, Mrs.
Summers. We’ve caused you trouble, especially with you expecting. You should
head back to rest.”
Chloe had no intention of lingering. Seeing Cicely stabilized and on an IV, she
nodded, gave some instructions, and left the hospital.
The reporters were still outside, focused on the story Chloe had overheard when
she entered —Danielle.
“Is Danielle’s condition serious?”
“Danielle pushed through multiple takes of a water scene despite her injury,
leading to an infection. Now she’s running a high fever. I’m not sure if 38.6
degrees is serious to others, but…”
Chloe chuckled. That was a fierce response. Well, the people Seth kept around
weren’t exactly pushovers.
Shaking her head, she started to walk away when another question made her
pause. “I’ve seen Mr. Diaz’s car. Is he at the hospital now?”
“Yeah, Danielle’s struggling, feeling down, and Mr. Diaz is with her.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow. So Seth was at the hospital. Well, good luck to him.
＊
After a night’s rest, Cicely woke early, the sky just beginning to lighten. She’d
gone to bed early, and after an IV all night, she felt the need for the bathroom.
Glancing around, she vaguely remembered the events of the previous night and
Chloe’s help. She pushed herself up, stirring the housekeeper, who quickly got
to her feet. “Ms. Cicely, you’re awake?”
Cicely was pale, nodding weakly. “I need the restroom.”
“I’ll help you.”
Cicely said nothing, the dizziness hitting her as she sat up. There was no point
in being stubborn now.
“Coco, run and get a breakfast.”
“Okay, right away.”
The young maid named Coco acknowledged the housekeeper and hurried out.
Cicely returned from the restroom, splashing water on her face; she felt
somewhat refreshed.
Back in bed, she decided to wait for breakfast before sleeping again. After all,
she hadn’t eaten the night before and needed strength to recover.
There used to be someone to comfort her to eat and take her medicine. Now, it
was up to her to comfort herself.
Sitting up in bed, the housekeeper handed her a glass of water. “Just sit up for a
bit. After breakfast, you can go back to sleep if you like.”
Cicely nodded faintly, “Turn on the TV, will you?”
“Sure, right away.”
The housekeeper found the remote and turned on the TV for Cicely.
Flipping through the channels, Cicely’s screen filled with images of Danielle
being admitted to the hospital late at night. The newscaster’s voice reported
Danielle’s overnight hospitalization for a film shoot and C&P CEO Seth’s rushed
arrival at the hospital.
Then came an interview with one of Danielle’s assistants outside the hospital.
“Is Mr. Diaz also at the hospital now?”
“Yeah, Danielle’s having a tough time; she’s feeling low, so Mr. Diaz is staying
by her side.”
The housekeeper broke into a cold sweat, unsure of what to do next. “These
media outlets, they’re like vultures circling Mr. Diaz, I swear. They latch onto him
for some cheap buzz. You gotta take what they say with a grain of salt, Ms.
Cicely. It’s just a bunch of sensationalist claptrap.”
Cicely’s face betrayed no emotion as she flicked through the channels, finally
settling on a soap opera in progress. “Who would dare spread fake news about
Seth?”
The housekeeper found herself at a loss for words.
“Let’s get one thing straight—I’m no saint. Don’t worry about sparing my
feelings. I’m not going to get upset. Heck, I don’t even have the right to.”
“Well, Mr. Diaz does seem to care about you, deep down.”
“It was Chloe who brought me to the hospital last night, wasn’t it? Looks like I
owe her one, again.”
The implication wasn’t lost on the housekeeper. What Cicely was really pointing
out was that in last night’s chaos, it was Chloe who showed up for her, not
anyone else. And certainly not Seth, despite the hype about how much he
supposedly cared. The housekeeper was at a loss for words, and Cicely’s response only deepened
her silence.
Coco returned swiftly with breakfast, but something felt off in the room.
The housekeeper unfolded the table and arranged the food neatly on top. Cicely
moved forward in her chair, took a spoonful of oatmeal, and tried to swallow, but
nausea churned in her stomach. She gagged slightly, unable to stomach the
meal before her.
The housekeeper watched anxiously from the side. Initially, she knew Cicely as
Mr. Diaz’s hidden mistress, a relationship not established by convention.
Enter title…
The housekeeper had no fondness for girls who would sell themselves for
money without self-respect. But as time passed, she began to see that Cicely
was not the typical mistress she had imagined.
Cicely never asked Mr. Diaz for anything, nor did she flirt with men as other
women might. The housekeeper could even sense a deeper, more complicated,
and inevitable bond between Mr. Diaz and Ms. Cicely, one that was far more
profound than superficial displays of affection.d2
Unwittingly, the housekeeper found she couldn’t bring herself to dislike Cicely.
She even thought that this beautiful, radiant, and proud young woman, with her
straightforward and unencumbered demeanor, deserved affection more than the
widely known superstar girlfriend.
“Ms. Cicely, if you can’t eat, don’t force yourself. Is there something specific
you’d like? I can prepare it for you,” the housekeeper offered.
Cicely shook her head, took a bite of the breakfast roll, and forcefully pushed
down the nausea. “No need. I’m quite hungry, and right now anything will do.”
The food in the prison wasn’t exactly something one could be picky about.
Moreover, when feeling unwell, nothing tasted right.
Cicely alternated between bites of oatmeal, the side salad, and the breakfast
roll, but it was as if she was chewing wax.
The housekeeper watched with a heavy heart, her eyes brimming with tears.
She knew the girl had come from prison.
After finishing two breakfast rolls and her oatmeal, Cicely finally felt some
strength returning. The housekeeper cleared the table while Cicely lay down on
the bed.
“Do I need to continue with the IV drip?” Cicely asked.
The housekeeper nodded, “I’ll go check with the doctor.”
Cicely tucked herself under the covers and closed her eyes, her voice soft and
steady, “I’d like to get it over with as soon as possible.”
“Alright.”
*
Chloe had just stepped out of the elevator and into the apartment lobby when
she encountered the cool and distant Seth. Both slowed their pace.
Seth eyed her up and down. “Pregnant and still not staying put?”
Chloe tugged at her lips. “Just back from the hospital or heading there now?”
Seth, one hand in his pocket, his expression stern, retorted, “Can’t I be
somewhere else? Why do I have to get involved with the hospital?”
“That’s fine. As for me, I’m just off for a morning walk.”
Seth glanced at her still-flat belly. “Be careful.”
Chloe smiled and hummed in acknowledgment.
As they passed each other, Chloe suddenly called out, “Seth.”
He stopped and turned around. “Something else?”
After a moment of silence, Chloe said slowly, “Do you understand what Damon
means to me?”
Seth frowned. “I know you two are madly in love, but there’s no need to flaunt it.
I’m not keen on hearing about people’s love lives.”
Chloe smiled and continued, “To the world, he might just be another person, at
best a diamond in the dust. But to me, he’s my whole world—clear blue skies by
day, vast starry nights that belong only to me. Even through storms or biting
cold, his efforts are solely to shelter me.”
Seth’s lips tightened as he gazed at her, “What are you trying to say?”
Chloe’s eyes curved with a smile, “And you? Whose world are you?”
Seth froze. He watched Chloe’s figure disappear before finally turning away.
Whose world was he? His world wanted only to entrap one person, but that
person was set on fleeing.
*
Cicely wasn’t in her bedroom.
Seth had checked the guest room, the study—still no sign of her.
Descending the stairs, he interrogated the servants, who were trembling with
fear. “Ms. Cicely was taken to the hospital with a fever from an infected wound.
Mr. Seth, didn’t you know?”
Seth felt a sudden jolt in his chest, his eyes darkening. “When did this happen?”
“Just last night, around ten. The housekeeper couldn’t reach you by phone, so
she had no choice but to call Ms. Summers from downstairs to help take Ms.
Cicely to the hospital.”
Chloe’s words from earlier echoed in his ears. He suddenly found it difficult to
breathe, his heart gripped tightly as if a sharp claw were about to pierce through
it with every inch he breathed.
Last night around ten, he too had been at the hospital.
The walk from upstairs to downstairs took no more than five minutes, so
encountering Chloe downstairs again was expected. She stood on the bridge
over the man-made lake, watching him, two bodyguards lurking cautiously in the
shadows nearby, careful to avoid being spotted.
Even when they saw him, their demeanor suggested they were ready to rush up
at any moment.
“Why go through such a big detour?”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to see you right now.”
Seth clenched his fists tightly as Chloe maintained her indifferent expression. “I
don’t want to meddle in anyone else’s business, but lately, I guess pregnancy
has got me bored. If Damon were you, I definitely wouldn’t want that. But now
I’m pregnant, and I feel… even though it’s against my principles to swallow my
pride for the sake of children, to ensure their well-being, it’s something I need to
sacrifice for once. My children are worth that sacrifice to me. After all, something
can only be provided by Damon, and only with me and Damon together can we
give that to them. No one else will do.”
“Do you want me to use the child to keep her?” Seth’s voice was deep and cold,
Chloe’s roundabout talk frustrating him, clearly implying something, yet he
always felt he was missing the point. His patience had worn thin.
Chloe paused for a couple of seconds, then laughed softly, “No, that would be a
harmful idea I strongly discourage. She has helped me, after all. I can’t repay
kindness with malice by pushing her into a pit of fire.”
After finishing, she added a caution, “Don’t get me wrong and force anything on
her. With her temperament and character…”
Seth’s patience was spent, “No need for your reminders.” He knew Cicely’s
temperament better than anyone.
“Then just consider my words as rambling,” she said.
Seth’s gaze lingered on Chloe’s serene smile, a hint of contemplation breaking
through his normally stoic and sharp demeanor.
Such a shrewd woman, he thought. And here she was, investing her time and
eloquence in what seemed like idle chatter with him. Seth came to the hospital once more.
Finding Cicely’s room was a breeze, and there stood Coco, cautiously pushing
the door open.
Behind her was the housekeeper who had always treated him with utmost
respect. Now, as she encountered Seth, her mouth opened as if to speak, but
ultimately, she only let out a sigh.
In a hushed tone, the housekeeper said, “Ms. Cicely is sleeping, sir. Please
don’t wake her.”
Approaching the bedside, Seth saw the woman lying there, asleep. A needle
was inserted into her arm, secured with two pieces of medical tape across her
Enter title…
hand.
The housekeeper whispered, “Her veins are too fine on the back of her hand.
The nurse tried several times but couldn’t get the IV right. They had to move it to
her arm, and even then, it took two attempts. Ms. Cicely seemed in a lot of pain.
She broke out in a cold sweat.”d2
Seth stood silently, his lips a thin line, even his breaths shallow. She was indeed
in pain. She always feared the pain the most.
“Mr. Diaz,” the housekeeper finally spoke up after a long pause, “is Ms. Danielle
your girlfriend?”
Coco, caught off guard, glanced at the housekeeper in panic and unconsciously
shrank back.
Seth lifted his gaze indifferently toward her. The housekeeper clasped her hands
together, staring at the sickly Cicely with concern, “Not many people around
here think highly of Ms. Cicely’s status. But she isn’t like those indiscreet women
out there. This morning, Ms. Cicely saw the news about you visiting Ms.
Danielle at the hospital late at night. She said she wasn’t angry, and that she
had no right to be.”
Seth’s expression darkened instantly. “The news?”
The housekeeper nodded, “Yes, the news. Mr. Diaz, you weren’t aware? It’s
probably the hottest topic right now, the lovey-dovey stories about you and Ms.
Danielle.”
Pulling out his smartphone, Seth quickly scanned the web. Gripping his phone
tightly, he turned and exited the room with a stony face.
Charlie arrived in a hurry upon receiving a call, and when he saw Seth’s grim
expression, his heart skipped a beat. “Mr. Diaz…”
“What’s with the news online?”
“The news about you and Ms. Danielle? It’s just…” Charlie hesitated, “You’ve
said before we shouldn’t pay attention to such news.”
Seth’s icy demeanor grew even colder, “I want all of it pulled down.”
Charlie glanced behind Seth at the hospital room door—not Ms. Danielle’s room
—and deduced that the only other person who would be hospitalized and matter
enough to Mr. Diaz to bother about a scandal was Ms. Cicely.
“Right away, sir.”
“And put out an official statement to clarify…”
Charlie paused mid-stride, “What should the statement say?”
“That Danielle and I are not in the kind of relationship they think we are.”
Charlie blinked, momentarily frozen.
Noticing this, Seth’s eyes narrowed, the chill in his gaze intensifying. “Do I need
to replace you?”
“Mr. Diaz, does it have to be now?” Charlie ventured cautiously, “You mentioned
just last night that in half a month, it’ll be Thanksgiving.”
Seth’s expression changed abruptly, his heart sinking.
Charlie, observing the shift in mood, was all the more certain in those few silent
seconds that no matter if it was three years or three decades, no one could ever
take Ms. Cicely’s place in Mr. Diaz’s heart.
She was irreplaceable.
They had given each other their most innocent and straightforward emotions
during their most naïve years.
It was precious because it was young and pure; it was flawed because it was
young and pure. These two people had endured and experienced hardships
unimaginable to others during what should have been their most carefree years.