The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

Chapter 2064

At noon.

A simple and luxurious bedroom.

A cascade of messy hair sprawled across the slate-gray duvet and pillows, while flawless skin played peek-a-bo and sneak beneath them. Even with her eyes sealed shut, the serene expression etched on her face rightfully belonged to an exquisite woman.

The bright white blinding light outside was blocked out by the curtains for the most part, the humidifier next to the bed was silently spitting out a fine mist, and the temperature and humidity in the room were maintained at a balanced level.

After a while, the woman in bed slowly turned over. Her pale eyelids, translucent enough to reveal delicate veins, quivered, and her slender arms, speckled with faint marks, stretched out from under the duvet.

She flexed her arms gently as her smooth brow furrowed slightly, and after a long moment, she reluctantly opened her eyes. Her eyes gradually brightened, instantly illuminating her beautiful resting face.d2

Despite the slight puffiness, her eyes were still seductive and lazy, radiating a beauty that was beyond words.

Her gaze lazily swept the room, landed on the slightly disheveled bed, and seemed to recall something. Her eyes flinched as if stung, closed once more, and she buried her head into the soft pillow for a moment before slowly sitting up and heading to the bathroom.

Downstairs, the decor was also elegantly simple, with every detail thoughtfully designed. The house staff gathered, idly dusting corners already devoid of any dust and chit-chatting in hushed tones.

"Work here is so laid back. Aside from cleaning, it's just cooking now and then. And the pay's great. I'm so lucky to have landed this job."

"Lucky? Isn't it the lady upstairs who's lucky? A pampered mistress living like royalty."

"We're a team of five or six, mostly waiting on her. I bet even Mr. Diaz's movie star girlfriend doesn't get this treatment."

"You don't know the half of it. Mr. Diaz is not likely to treat his girlfriend like this. I was on night duty last night, nearly scared to death. I've never seen Mr. Diaz look so terrifying. Ms. Cicely was almost dragged in."

"What happened?"

"Not sure, but it was even scarier upstairs. I could hear Ms. Cicely screaming from down here."

"You think Mr. Diaz forced himself on Ms. Cicely?"

"Why would he need to? Keeping her for that purpose is normal, isn't it?"

"Do you think they're normal? Them being normal would be the real shock."

"True that."

Just then, another servant tiptoed down from upstairs and whispered urgently, "Stop gossiping, I heard movement. She must be awake. Let's get lunch ready."

The servants straightened up and scattered quickly.

Indeed, half an hour later, Cicely descended the stairs in a pale pink vintage sundress with lace sleeves that tapered gently at the wrists. The dress's ruffled hem added a touch of demure elegance.

She was luminous, her skin almost glowing. Her hair fell carelessly over her shoulders, her figure slender and graceful, her eyes half-lidded with languor, as if taking an extra step would be an unforgivable luxury in the eyes of onlookers.

A servant hurried over with a glass of warm water, saying respectfully, "Ms. Cicely, lunch will be ready shortly."

"I see," she replied indifferently, taking the glass and moving to the sofa.

After a few sips, she casually picked up a magazine from the coffee table. A quick glance at the casually opened inside page met a photo of Seth's interview.

It was a corporate interview, about Diaz International, so it was normal to have Seth.

The man in the photo wore a faint smile that never quite reached his eyes. Instead, those gazes were deep pools of ice, radiating a formidable, indescribable pressure, even from the page. Dressed in a black suit, with even his shirt a dark hue, he seemed all the more brooding and austere.

He had matured since three years ago but had also become colder and more detached.

Remembering how furiously he had dragged her from No. 8 Mansion the previous night, as if he wanted her dead, her expression chilled, and she tossed the magazine back onto the coffee table.

"Ms. Cicely, lunch is ready."

The staff attended to her efficiently.

At the end of the meal, there was still some food left in the bowl, so she took out her cell phone and turned it on as she brought each bite to her mouth.

A barrage of messages and missed call notifications popped up, refusing to cease.

There were a few from others, but most were from Joel, an old classmate she had recently reconnected with and gotten along with quite well. He had just returned from abroad, the years polishing him into a more refined and confident gentleman. The cheerful, sunny boy from back then now carried himself with poise and sophistication.

It wasn't hard to get in touch with her. Joel had sent a car full of coffee and cakes to the set personally.

Crysti had a fight scene to shoot the next afternoon, and most of the upcoming scenes were with Danielle.

Danielle, with numerous commitments and the well-known backing of Seth, had a sporadic presence on set. Without her, Crysti couldn't proceed, so after her scenes for the day were done, the director told her to rest.

The timing was perfect for her to meet Joel that evening.

Cicely was still known as "Diamond" at No. 8 Mansion, and now she was surrounded by serious power players who were so generous that they introduced their guests to No. 8 Mansion at gatherings, and when they did, they had to open bottles of wine.

The owner was shrewd, and Cicely, ever the opportunist, worked solely on commission with no set salary – a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Now Joel was in her sights as a potential big spender. They were going to meet anyways, and No. 8 Mansion was indeed a fine choice.

Knowing Cicely earned her commission there, Joel didn't hesitate to store ten bottles of Louis.

"Thanks for the support," Cicely accepted his generosity with a toast.

"If you need anything, just let me know."

Cicely smiled and glanced around, "This is a fine place to unwind, fitting for people of your stature. You should bring your friends here more often."

Joel watched her for a long moment, "You're just the same as before." Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Cicely downed her drink, gazing at the empty crystal glass reflecting beautiful hues, her brows curved elegantly. "How is that even possible?"

"You've always been so open, never one to hide your true intentions. It's pretty clear what you're after."

"How else do you expect me to disguise my purpose when I come up beside you as a liquor seller?"

Joel chuckled, "The stuff on the flash drive has been recovered and I have handed over to Seth."

Cicely poured herself another glass of wine, murmured an indifferent "I see," and remained expressionless.

Joel nodded, deciding not to bring up Cicely's past anymore. Instead, he shifted the conversation to himself.

Thirty minutes had elapsed since Cicely stepped foot into the No. 8 Mansion when Seth's call finally came through.

Cicely answered, "What's up?"

"Done reminiscing?"

"Not yet."

Her immediate response left Seth silent for a few seconds; when he spoke again, his voice was coated with ice. "You coming out on your own, or should I come in and find you?"

Cicely scoffed and hung up.

"What happened?"

"Nothing." Cicely downed her glass of wine. "Sorry, I've got work tomorrow and can't drink too much. Let's catch up another time."

Joel nodded. "Where do you live? I'll give you a ride home."

Cicely closed her eyes for a moment, grabbed her purse, and stood up. "No need, my ride is waiting outside."

They walked out together, and there, parked in front of No. 8 Mansion, was an imported S-class car, arrogantly stationed. The man who should have been waiting inside had stepped out upon seeing them.

Charlie, the driver, felt a chill on his scalp. What if the paparazzi caught them?

Ever since Danielle's rapid rise to fame and Seth was discovered to be the one behind her success, they were often followed by reporters.

Everyone knew Ms. Danielle was Mr. Diaz's darling. If they found out he was keeping another woman, wouldn't the entertainment world explode?

Even if Seth wasn't worried about the gossip, this unwanted hassle could be easily avoided. Why make such a rookie mistake?

Joel had never expected to see Seth here. He looked at Cicely in surprise and instinctively pulled her behind him.

Seth's eyes narrowed slightly as he ascended the steps of No. 8 Mansion and stopped before them. His gaze fell on Cicely's wrist, held by Joel.

Cicely didn't look at him, standing quietly behind Joel, her delicate wrist in his grip, looking every bit the protected one.

The scene was somewhat irritating. In fact, an invisible tension was already swirling in Seth's chest.

Seth's face carried a faint smile, his designer suit accentuating his tall, lean figure, and yet, it exuded a chilling, persistent pressure. Three years had changed more than just one person. Seth now seemed like a man who had weathered many storms, a leader of great authority, effortlessly quelling any signs of defiance.

"Get in the car."

The direction of his words was clear, with no pleasantries for Joel. He didn't consider Joel worth his attention.

Though Joel had his suspicions, he was still taken aback. Joel thought she would no longer be involved with Seth.

Cicely remained silent, and Seth's gaze stayed on her, as though he would wait forever if she didn't move, in a relentless standoff. "I need to get back to the set."

Seth scoffed. "Since when did the set become so important to you?"

"I need to be there for Crysti."

"Hmm, but you're with me tonight."

Cicely's grip tightened. "That's my job."

The man laughed again, the word "job" seeming absurd in relation to her.

"Always bad timing. One moment you have time to catch up, the next you're fighting to be employee of the month when I ask for your company. How about I give the whole crew a break, make it easy for you to focus on me, huh?"

Joel chimmed in, "Mr. Diaz, why are you so coercive?"

Seth's gaze finally landed on Joel's face. After a long pause, he spoke lightly, "I'm discussing with her. But if we can't come to an understanding, then I might have to be coercive. And by the way, you should let go of her now, Joel. I don't like other men touching my woman."

Cicely sensed the danger in Seth's tone and abruptly pulled her hand back. "You should go. I'll get in touch when I have time." Her voice carried an almost imperceptible urgency.

Seth's expression darkened.

"But Cicely..."

"Leave, now."

She pushed Joel away impatiently, her voice louder than usual. Seth's smile remained, but his eyes were filled with a chilling frost.

The smile of his lips suggested cruelty.

*

Cicely got into the car herself.

Neither of them spoke on the way, the atmosphere in the vehicle eerily tense. Even Charlie, driving up front, felt an icy chill over his tense body.

It wasn't until they reached her apartment that Cicely tried to exit the car, and Seth's deep voice finally broke the silence. "Worried about him?"

Cicely stopped, "What's it to you?"

Seth was silent for a moment, his face bearing a cold, mocking smile. "I've been keeping you as my sugar baby for so long, isn't it time you slept with me?"

Cicely's face darkened, "I never asked you to keep me. There's a line of women waiting to sleep with you, Danielle at the front, isn't she? You make me sick."

She opened the door to leave but Seth's firm grip on her wrist pulled her back. Panic surged through Cicely, "What are you doing?!"

Seth's lips curled into a sinister smile, a hint of menace in his eyes. "What do you think..."

His breath brushed against her face, his fingers caressing then tightening around her delicate jaw. "What do you think I have Joel killed tonight? What do you say?"

Cicely froze, then pushed him away. "You're insane!" She turned and pushed the door open, stepping out.

The next moment, a car pulled up in front of her. Several men stepped out, shoving Joel forward; his face was already bloodied. He steadied himself as a dark gun was pressed to the back of his head.

Her mind went blank.

Cicely spun around to see Seth approaching her, his steps casual. Shaking with anger, she confronted him, "Have you lost your mind?!"

Seth stepped up beside her, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You seem a bit skeptical, so I thought I'd come over and prove it to you."

Seth wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close with an affectionate embrace.

"You know, it's like I've been treating you like royalty. Whatever you want, I'm at your beck and call. You feel like throwing a tantrum? Go ahead. If you're not in the mood for sex at night, I respect that. Even when it comes to work, I bend over backwards to accommodate you. Has all this made you think I'm some kind of pushover? A saint who's always gentle, agreeable, and upright?

"Cicely, it's not that I'm powerless when it comes to you, it's just that I don't have the heart to be tough. But don't mistake my leniency for a lack of backbone. I can't always be the one to smooth things over. Sometimes, I need someone else to douse the flames."