The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

Chapter 2111

Phoebe had a knack for being unreliable in front of Azriel, but when it counted, she showed she cared.

Twenty-four hours later, a bowl of soup and an assortment of delicate side dishes were placed before him right on time. NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

After unwrapping the cutlery and handing him the spoon and fork with both hands, she beamed with a grin: "Starving, aren't you? This is from The Lucky Spoon, the soup everyone's dying to try. It's tough just to get a reservation. It's delicious, give it a try."

Azriel glanced at her coolly, taking the cutlery from her expectant gaze. "Scared now?"

The smile Phoebe was trying to keep up on her face stiffened, and eventually, her shoulders slumped as she hung her head and averted her eyes, her apology coming out straightforward and sincere. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake."

"Better think of how to make amends."d2

Phoebe shivered involuntarily, for some reason that sentence sounded to her more like "Better think of how to face your doom."

But then again, it was her fault he was in the hospital. She could at least own up to that.

Watching Azriel begin to eat, his movements slow and refined, he hardly looked like someone who had starved for a full day.

*

When Azriel finished eating, he turned to see the girl on the couch had curled up and fallen asleep.

The room was set to a comfortable temperature, but it was winter after all. Frowning slightly, he got up, cleared the food containers off the table, opened the closet near the door, and took out a blanket. Walking over to her, he gently covered her with it.

The lights in the room were bright, and perhaps it was the rarity of being this close to a girl, or maybe it was just how peaceful and well-behaved she seemed in her sleep, or maybe he was curious about how much that quirky, lively child had changed over the years, but with a mere glance at her face, his brow furrowed sharply.

Her skin was glowing, her features fine, her sleeping form attractive, but beneath her eyes were faint shadows, and her forehead bore the clear signs of fatigue.

What caught his attention even more were the reddened corners of her eyes, a few long lashes clumped together from moisture, glistening under the light.

They had been together all day. She had been playing pranks heartily just hours ago, and had just admitted her faults to him with feigned obedience. And yet, in such a short time, she had cried herself to sleep.

He had been completely unaware.

Jace had said about her running off to a villa that no longer housed her grandparents, after Abelard's birthday party. If he hadn't just returned to the country, cleaned up the villa, arranged for heating and paid the electricity bill, she would have spent the night alone, curled up on the couch.

Then she was startled by him, the unexpected "intruder," and all the hassle that led to the police station and then the hospital.

Through all this time, he hadn't heard a peep from the Alonso family about looking for her.

With this thought, his expression grew darker. A young lady of good standing was nearly violated by a fool in a calculated scheme, and now, there was not even a pretense of concern from anyone.

No wonder, Damon had suddenly decided to take action against the Alonso family.

He hadn't understood the decision at first, but now it seemed necessary and entirely correct.

*

Waking up the next morning, her first instinct was to glance towards the hospital bed. It was empty. She frowned, sitting up from the couch, the blanket falling to the floor.

She paused, then picked the blanket up.

Azriel emerged from the bathroom, having changed out of his hospital gown into a crisp, black suit. His tall, lean figure, impeccably dressed, his handsome face expressionless, detached yet commanding. Merely standing there, he exuded an aura of authority that demanded respect.

This was the first time Phoebe had seen Azriel in formal wear. Their first encounter had been in his pajamas at the police station, the second in his hospital gown. Now, confronted with this imposing version of Azriel, she was struck by how outrageous her actions the day before must have seemed to him.

Azriel, adjusting his cuffs, glanced at her briefly and said in a detached tone, “Awake?”

“Yeah.” Phoebe responded awkwardly, then added, “Are you being discharged?”

“Yes.” His response was cool, yet he acknowledged her, “Get washed up.”

Phoebe quickly stood and entered the bathroom. She came out just as Jace was walking in from outside.

“Ms. Alonso, good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Phoebe had only washed her face, strands of hair by her temples and forehead were still damp.

She usually wore little makeup, but now, fresh-faced without even the basics of skincare, she looked like a flower just emerged from water.

With the bathroom located near the entrance, they crossed paths, and Jace's gaze lingered on Phoebe's face for a few seconds before he turned away.

“Jace.” The stern, calm voice sent a shiver down Jace’s spine, prompting him to quickly carry the breakfast he brought into the room.

Azriel sat down on the couch, watching indifferently as Jace opened the breakfast boxes.

“Come and have breakfast.” He didn’t look up, but it was clear he was speaking to Phoebe.

Phoebe walked over and sat down a short distance away from him.

“After breakfast, someone will take you back to the villa. You should rest at home today.”

Phoebe paused, “Since you’re fine now…”

“Don’t forget, you’re my maid now.”

Phoebe was speechless.

“I've hired an experienced butler and two maids, learn from them. You get today off.”

“But I need to go back to school.”

“I don’t need you at the villa 24/7, just make sure you’re there for dinner and breakfast.”

Jace, standing off to the side, couldn't help but hide a smirk. Was Azriel courting disaster? After a near-death experience, Azriel still dared to eat her cooking. Impressive.

Though, the maid thing... Hmm.

“Okay,” Phoebe finally replied, resigned.

*

True to his word, Azriel had apparently informed the butler in advance, and the man showed no surprise upon meeting Phoebe.

The butler greeted her politely and introduced the two maids to Phoebe, before sending her upstairs to rest . And he told her to feel free to ask if she needed anything. It was hardly the welcome you'd expect for a guest.

Phoebe didn't overthink it. After all, the Alonso family had always carried themselves with an air of aristocracy, their noses high in the clouds, especially since they were related to some distant royal cousin in Y Country. Most of the servants had been browbeaten by Wendy and her mother into a state resembling ancient serfs, devoid of any rights.

Compared to her own home, the attitude of the butler and the staff here was a far cry from what she was accustomed to.

The first thing Phoebe did was take a long, soothing bath. As she moved to the vanity to dry her hair, she noticed a collection of skincare products lined up. They were from the brand she had settled on for the past years, perfect for her sensitive skin.

She hadn't brought any herself, so someone here must have prepared them.

Had the efficiency of butlers nowadays become so remarkable?

After a basic skincare routine and drying her hair, she curiously opened the wardrobe to find it filled with clothes in her size.

Phoebe fell silent. She wasn't that naive.

= She had thought of evading her responsibilities before, but now she felt even more guilty.

Well, she decided, she'd better spend the afternoon perfecting a few recipes.

*

When Azriel came back in the evening, the butler was right there to greet him.

As he glanced around the living room, the butler said with a smile before Azriel could even speak, "Ms. Alonso is in the kitchen cooking."

Azriel raised an eyebrow and headed to the kitchen. As he approached, he saw faint wisps of smoke drifting from the top of the doorframe, carrying a charred scent.

Without a hint of surprise, he smirked and on reaching the doorway, found Phoebe clad in a blue and pink apron, brandishing a spatula in one hand and a pot lid as a shield in the other, squinting and occasionally coughing as she bravely attempted to stir the contents of the frying pan. It was as though she was engaged in a duel, or more aptly, like a soldier charging into battle.

He watched her silently for a moment, as she gritted her teeth, resolved herself, and dumped a pinch of salt into the pan from a distance before quickly turning off the heat.

As the sizzling in the pan subsided, Phoebe let out a sigh of relief, then went on to playfully add various spices, one bottle after another.

Finally, she stirred the mixture with the spatula, dusted off her hands, and proudly declared, "OK."

Azriel was speechless.

OK? How could she say OK to that?

He thought the instant noodle fiasco was a fluke, but was he wrong? Could anything in that pan even be edible?

Perhaps realizing the gravity of her culinary creation, she took up the lid as a shield and cautiously turned on the heat again. About half a minute later, she switched it off.

Azriel turned to leave, but Phoebe caught a glimpse of him. "Azriel, you're back! Come and try this, I learned a new dish this afternoon."

Azriel didn't pause in his stride.

"Hey, Azriel. Never mind, go wash up and change, quickly. I'll serve up the dish."

For the first time, Azriel regretted something deeply.

The housekeeper returned from taking out the trash, gazed upon the smoky battlefield that was the kitchen, and was at a loss for words. Watching Phoebe humming tunefully as she plated her creation, the housekeeper quickly whipped up several new dishes.

*

It took Azriel a good half hour to come downstairs. He recognized the dish on the dining table immediately and strategically sat as far away from it as possible.

The housekeeper served the rice and soup, but Phoebe sat down next to him with her plate in hand, eagerly picking up a bite of the dish with her fork and placing it onto Azriel's plate.

Azriel's hand froze. He turned to say something but was silenced by her expectant gaze.

The so-called scrambled eggs looked nothing like the traditional dish, tinted with what seemed like soy sauce.

Azriel took a deep breath and bravely ate the piece of blackened egg. The overwhelming taste of soy sauce and burnt bitterness left only saltiness and a tinge of regret in his mouth.

"How is it?"

Azriel swallowed the egg without betraying his feelings, glanced at her nervous yet hopeful expression, and hummed a noncommittal sound before adding, "There's room for improvement."

Phoebe's smile faltered. The compliment was diplomatic, but she understood. It was a less than stellar review.

Her face fell along with her mood.

Azriel couldn't quite understand why, but he couldn't bear to see her like this. He took another piece of tomato, saying, "For a first attempt, this is really good. You have potential."

The housekeepers exchanged a glance behind him. That was quite the stretch of the truth. But it seemed to comfort Phoebe.

*

The next morning, under the watchful supervision of the housekeeper, Phoebe managed to prepare rice in the smart cooker. That breakfast was deemed a success, and she was forbidden from contributing any further.

So Phoebe took out her phone and sent her location to Angie, asking for a ride to school.

Seeing a normal breakfast spread, Azriel breathed a sigh of relief. After breakfast, he put on his coat and turned to the still-seated Phoebe, who was busy texting away. "Aren't you going to school today?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Azriel continued buttoning his coat. "I'll drive you."

Phoebe's eyes widened in surprise. "No, it's fine. My friend's picking me up in a bit."

Azriel paused, then acknowledged with a brief "Hmm" before leaving the matter be.

*

On the drive to school, Angie couldn't help but feel a mix of sympathy and amusement as Phoebe recounted the last few days' events. "But listen, Phoebe, they always say once you get a stepmom, you're bound to get a stepdad. Just forget about the Alonso clan, okay? And Chloe's been running her mouth about taking over the Alonso business. I know it's tough for you to swallow, but honestly, rather than letting them use the Alonso name to torture you or worse, sacrifice you, maybe it'd be better to let her take it off your hands. Your sister and stepmom have been scheming since your mom was still alive. I doubt they'd throw you a bone when the time comes. I even have this gut feeling that if Chloe does take over the Alonso legacy, she won't leave you high and dry."

Angie tried to sugarcoat her words, but the truth was harsh and, after dancing around the topic, she decided to just lay it out straight.

"Angie, you don't need to spell it out for me, I know the score. From the get-go, they never intended to let me in on the business. I'm aware that sooner or later, they'll sell me out for the sake of the Alonso name. Thank goodness their egos have been looking to cash me in at a high price, which is why I've been spared all these years and could keep hitting the books. I don't give a hoot about the

fate of the Alonso company. My mom died because they were eyeing it, and they almost sold me off for it too. I managed to dodge the bullet this time, but I know my days ahead won't be smooth sailing.

"As long as the Alonso company is in their hands, they'll try to sell me off a second, a third time. I've spent my life walking on eggshells around them. I do not have a single savvy bone in my body, and I am not bright or resilient. If Chloe can wrestle the Alonso company from their clutches, I won't hold a grudge. In fact, I'd be grateful to her."

Angie clasped her hand, "The world's full of sharp women who can stand on their own two feet, like Chloe, but not every woman has to fit that mold. We're just ordinary, not tough or clever, and that's perfectly fine. We have our way of life and are just as entitled to our slice of happiness."

"Yeah!"

Relieved, Angie then ventured, "So, who's this guy anyway? You're living under the same roof now, so aren't you..."

"Are you kidding me?!" Phoebe, blushing profusely, interrupted before Angie could finish, "I've only known him for a few days. And besides..."

Angie nodded emphatically, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You've been holding out for your Mr. Lollipop, the one with the peach flavor."