The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

Chapter 2101

Damon wasn't one for the pleasantries. Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

The surgery had been a success; as far as he was concerned, Seth waking up was just a matter of time, the worst-case scenario being a bit of a waiting game.

Lana's words fell on deaf ears as Damon's gaze remained fixed on Cicely, his voice firm, "Once should be enough of a lesson. If we drag this out, are you really waiting for him to throw in another life for good measure?"

Cicely's heart skipped a beat, her emotions betrayed by her face, and Damon, seeing this, was satisfied. He turned to Chloe, who was huddled in his arms, and deftly fastened the buttons of her trench coat collar. "If you don't agree to get hitched, I won’t meddle in whether he lives or dies after this. But if you do tie the knot..."

After adjusting Chloe's coat and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear with a half-smile, Damon's gaze shifted back to Cicely. "There might just be an absolute stunner of a surprise in it for you."

Cicely's brow furrowed. "What do you think could possibly surprise me now?"d2

Damon's lips curled into a smirk. "If I say there's a surprise, there definitely is one. If you're curious, why not walk down the aisle and find out?"

The crowd exchanged glances, wordless. They all knew Damon was breaking his back over Seth. He was pulling out all the stops – carrot and stick.

Kane and Nathan exchanged a knowing look. Damon was going all out for Seth; they'd make sure Seth knew it and was eternally grateful to Damon.

*

Three days felt like an eternity. Damon's few words had completely spooked Cicely. Seth was still not out of the woods, and anything they feared could happen at any moment.

The ICU strictly prohibited visitors. The round-the-clock vigilance was torturous.

Seven days later, Seth came to and was moved to a regular room. Cicely, along with Hugo, visited him. Her expression was neutral, revealing no emotion.

Fourteen days later, Seth was off medical support. Cicely still showed little emotion, visiting at the same time every day, just before noon, always with Hugo. They never brought lunch; it was always Charlie who brought it, and the three of them ate together. Seth ate his share, Cicely sat on the sofa feeding Hugo, and occasionally herself.

Nathan and Kane were daily fixtures, their banter often ending with Seth sending them away with a cold glance. Yet the next day, they were back again.

One month later, Seth was planning his discharge, and the hospital had given the green light.

In that month, Cicely had scarcely spoken a few words to him. She came every day, ate lunch with Hugo in his room, and then went upstairs to see Erik.

On the day of Seth’s discharge, Cicely arrived early. Hugo had been restless all night and woke up at the crack of dawn. Cicely, roused by his fussing and unable to vent on Hugo, bottled up her frustration.

At 8:30 AM she was at the hospital, Seth no longer in bed. He stood by the window, already dressed, and despite the severity of his injuries, he never once appeared disheveled. Seth was standing upright at this point, cell phone in his right hand, talking on the phone.

As Hugo entered, he joyously called out to his father. Seth turned his head, his gaze shifting from Hugo to Cicely, unblinking, his thin lips suddenly uttering a few emotionless words. "I've got to go.

Something's come up."

Cicely had just overheard him say "Don't press it.," but before she could ponder it, Seth was by her side. He grabbed her wrist. "Up with the birds today?"

Cicely looked at him, her tone detached. "Thanks to him."

She pushed Hugo toward Seth, feeling jealous.

Seth looked down as Hugo gazed up at him adoringly, sandwiched between his father and Cicely. Seth smiled faintly, ruffled Hugo's hair, and gently nudged him aside. Taking a few steps forward, he enveloped Cicely in his embrace.

Hugo stood to the side, suddenly feeling superfluous, his little lips pouting. He wandered out to the adjoining room, familiar with the place after a month of visits. On the coffee table lay his unfinished coloring book.

As Seth inhaled the subtle scent of her neck, he spoke, his voice a low murmur in her ear. "You haven't paid much attention to me this month." There was a hint of accusation and hurt in his tone.

Cicely pressed her lips together, her eyes cold as they fell upon the neatly made hospital bed. "Does it still hurt?" she asked, her voice frosty.

Seth hugged her tighter. "Not anymore."

Silence filled the room.

Eventually, she pushed him away and looked up into his handsome face, towering over her by a good margin. She smiled slyly and then slapped his cheek with a swift motion.

Seth's face turned with the force of the slap, a clear handprint appearing on his chiseled features. Yet, there was no other sign of emotion; he remained as composed and aristocratic as if the slap had landed on someone else's cheek.

Seconds later, he turned his head back to face Cicely's sardonic smile. He took her hand, his fingers spreading hers, gently kneading her palm. "Doesn't hurt?"

Cicely's fingertips trembled.

Seth brought her hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

Looking up at her again, his expression faltered slightly.

Cicely's eyes were red, her voice quivering. "Do you feel relieved now? Like you've finally gotten it off your chest?"

As Seth stared at her, he saw the fear, the aftershock, the anger, and even more emotions that made it clear to him. Her indifference and calm of the past days had been nothing but a façade to suppress and control herself.

It was as if a tiny outlet had suddenly been forced open, and all the pent-up emotions were bursting forth.

Her chest heaved violently, and suddenly pulling back her hand from his grip, she clenched it into a fist and began pounding on his shoulder, her voice strained with tension. "Seth, you're an absolute nutcase. Fucking jerk!"

Cicely had never cursed anyone like this before. Even when utterly infuriated in the past, she would never have expended her energy on blind rage, let alone display the hysterical outburst she was showing now. Maybe she had never been pushed this far before.

Seth let her beat on him, but as he heard Cicely's words, he was momentarily stunned. His chest roiled, but he couldn't hide the surge of elation in his heart. He grabbed her hands, pulling her tightly into his arms, his gaze burning into her.

His overwhelming joy was like a sting to Cicely, fueling her anger even more. "Amusing, isn't it?"

"You're worried about me."

Tears streamed down Cicely's cheeks, a relentless torrent as day after day, the haunting image of him plunging a knife into his own heart played on repeat whenever she closed her eyes. The shimmering silver of the blade seemed to shorten inch by inch before her, a cruel mimicry of how her own nerves felt severed, slice by slice.

Though the steel pierced his chest, it was she who felt as if death itself were upon her. As the vision slipped through her mind once again, her face turned ashen, her body visibly trembling.

Seth held her tight, his deep and husky voice a soothing balm in her ear. “Sorry.”

“I told you I don't want to hear that word again.”

“I apologize.”

Cicely's breath hitched.

Seth's hand glided up her back, “I told you I'd be okay. I do everything with the sole purpose of being with you, so nothing's going to happen to me.”

“That's easy for you to say now that you're okay, Seth. Do you think I'm still the naive girl you could easily comfort? Everyone related to you was there that day, even Damon wasn't sure he could save you. There you were, lying unconscious in the ER, and your life in someone else's hands. What makes you so certain?”

“Because I have to live. I want to be with you. I owe you. I haven't yet made it up to you. I can't bear the thought of you with another man. You love me the most, and I can't let you lose me. You'd be scared, lost, taking all the blame on yourself, drowning in guilt. I won't let you suffer alone in this world.”

Cicely bit her lip, her throat tight with emotion, her vision blurred by tears. After a while, she suddenly let out a cold, mocking laugh, tears streaming down her face. “You say you have to live, and so you will. How very mighty of you, controlling fate with such precision. It seems there's nothing in this world you can't handle, right?”

Seth reached out to wipe her tears away, kissing the tip of her nose, resting his forehead against hers.

“No,” his voice was hoarse, kissing away her tears, “you know it's always been you. Ever since you first said you liked me, loved me, I've been terrified that one day you'd decide you didn't want me anymore.”

Cicely's breath caught. She looked up at him, her eyelashes wet with dewy tears.

Seth leaned in and kissed her. “You say you like me, but I'm not that great. I've always been worried that once your novelty of me wears off, and you realize I'm not as perfect as you thought, you'd leave me without hesitation. So I wondered if you would always love me and stay by my side as long as I am good enough, strong enough, worthy enough to give you what no one else can."

She had never heard him open up like this before, laying all his fears bare before her.

Was he afraid? Afraid her love was just a whim, and she'd let him go...

Turns out, he was afraid of these things too. She thought she was the only one scared from the start.

Cicely closed her eyes, the feeling all too familiar. “So you've always thought my feelings were that shallow.”

“No, it's that I didn't understand.”

He wasn't born with inherent wisdom.

“What about now?” asked Cicely.

“I still don't understand.”

Cicely frowned, and Seth lifted her chin, his dark eyes seeming to pierce hers, “So you need to teach me well. I'm foolish, it'll take a lifetime to learn.”

Cicely's heartbeat was erratic, but her frown deepened, “I'm not qualified, and I don't understand either.”

“Great, then we'll learn and explore together.”

“Seth, who gave you the impression that everything is just like it was before?”

“You promised me, and there's no backing out now, even if you wanted to.” His brow furrowed, his tone unwavering, “You'll see if you can ever leave me.”

With those words, he leaned down to claim the lips he'd longed for.

Cicely reached out to push him away, but stopped short, not wanting to hurt his wounds. Her hands hovered in mid-air, uncertain. She was backed up against the nearby wall, and her retreat instinctively made her grip the fabric of Seth's shirt on his shoulders. He kissed her fervently, determined to drown her in the passion.

Seth indeed felt a release in his chest. It happened in the instant Cicely slapped him. Rather than the shock and anger, he found comfort in her outburst.

Her tantrums in his presence were far preferable to her previous indifferent calm. Her willingness to show anger was the best outcome he could hope for.

He was addicted, his kisses becoming uncontrollable, Cicely reeling but still clinging to a sliver of sense.

Once discharged, many would come to visit, and she hadn't planned on anything happening here. This situation would be awkward if seen.

Fortunately, Seth was still rational. After a prolonged kiss, he nibbled at her earlobe, his deep, throaty voice seeping into her ear. “How about we move into our home?”

His words and kisses tickled Cicely's ear, sending a shiver through her as she turned her head slightly away. “We're divorced.”

Seth fell silent for a moment, “The doctor says I need three months to fully recover.”

Cicely pushed him away, smoothing her hair, with a wry smile on her face, “Aren't you good at freeloading? It's not far, you can come over for meals very conveniently.”

The door was knocked, ending their conversation.

Seth naturally returned to their marital home upon discharge.

Cicely went back to Cicely's Mansion. That evening, Seth timed his visit perfectly to freeload a meal. And in the end, he also ended up sharing half of Cicely's bed.

*

For over a month, the news about Danielle never ceased.

From the moment she was escorted from the hospital and caught on camera by the media, the internet was ablaze. All the background and consequences were dug up by netizens, including all the dirt that had accumulated over the years, which C&P had previously managed to suppress. It came crashing out like a tidal wave, unstoppable.

Some disapproved of Seth's years of emotional deceit, mocking him disdainfully, and many viewed him with contempt.

However, the P City princess had been sent to prison years ago based on Danielle's false testimony in court. Even Seth's Mother killing herself and blaming Cicely for doing that was orchestrated by Danielle. Danielle's charge of premeditated murder was established, with evidence publicly disclosed by legal authorities.

Compared to that, Seth might have had ulterior motives, but his kindness to Danielle over the past three years was well known. Not only was she the most popular artist of C&P Entertainment, but she also reigned supreme as the queen bee of the entire western showbiz industry. Every imaginable advantage was handed to her on a silver platter, a path so smooth it sparked envy and jealousy alike.

The buzz about Danielle was relentless, regardless of how sensational the news or how heated the gossip. Yet, after a month or so, the storm would always subside.

Her name was in everyone's mouth again these days, and for a notorious reason. Danielle had been diagnosed with a mental illness.

According to the law, if a person is found to have a mental disorder, they could be exempt from criminal responsibility.

Cicely scanned the news on her phone and let out a cold, mocking laugh. She remembered walking into the hospital room yesterday while Seth was on the phone.

"Don't press it," he probably meant whether to go public with the news of Danielle's confirmed mental illness or not.

Was Danielle actually insane? Or was it all an act? If it were true, then like those people online were saying—holding various accolades, clutching the trophy for Best Actress, a bulldozer in the series business, every show a hit masterpiece, she would be the joke of the century.

All those fans, idolizing a madwoman, rallying for her day and night, going wild, then tearing apart any artist that so much as grazed their goddess. It was absurd.

But if Danielle faked it well enough to fool the assessment, that was impressive in its own right.

Seth came over and asked what she wanted for lunch. Cicely was lounging on the couch, with an empty fruit plate in her lap. She glanced at him and set the plate on the coffee table. "Whatever, I'm not picky." The house staff would make sure it was something to her taste anyway.

Seth eyed her phone briefly, pursing his lips.

Cicely didn't bother to hide it, her voice dripping with lazy scorn. "We haven't even really started, and she's already slipped out of this mess. Am I fated to be entangled with her?"

Seth took her phone, turned it off, and tossed it aside. "Got a craving? I'll cook for you."

"No, just lost my appetite. I don't feel like eating anything."

With that, she stood up, "Feed Hugo lunch, will you? I'll skip it."

Seth caught her hand. "You're going to skip a meal because of her?"

Cicely sneered slightly, her delicate features carrying a mix of laziness and haughty indifference. "I don't see why I should bother. Danielle's mere existence is nauseating. No one's in the mood to eat after glimpsing a pile of crap."

"Then let's make her disappear."

Cicely frowned.

Seth chuckled, reached for the remote, and turned on the TV. "Relax and watch some TV. The thing you're worried about won't happen."

Cicely was puzzled. And before lunchtime, she got her answer.

Danielle was sent straight to a mental hospital. She was genuinely disgusted by Danielle, but she hadn't given much thought to what would become of her or what fate awaited. So this outcome was quite unexpected.

The person meant to be set free was shipped off to a psychiatric ward. Cicely wondered how Danielle herself felt about that.

Probably picturing Danielle’s loathing and hysteria, Cicely couldn't help but smirk. It felt somewhat immoral to revel in Danielle’s misfortune, but this slight immorality was the least of the leniency she could afford Danielle.

Sitting down at the dining table, Cicely picked up a fork and looked at Seth. "This was your idea?"

"Are you not pleased?"

Cicely raised an eyebrow, indifferent. "It's fine. Rather than a clean death, I prefer to watch those I loathe suffer while alive."

————

Seth gave her a deep look. "I can see that."

*

For half a month, Seth freeloaded both food and a bed.

Cicely sat on the bed's edge, watching the man who brazenly emerged from her bathroom with a hairdryer in hand, her brows finally knitting together. "Playing sick to get care, only to end up pampering someone else—is that amusing to you?"

Seth plugged in the dryer and began to work on her hair. The warm breeze blew through her hair from his fingers. Seth played with the soft strands, his gaze darkening.

Once her hair was dry, he pulled her into his embrace, burying his face in the nape of her neck and inhaling her scent. His husky voice made Cicely's skin crawl—not from romance, but sheer shock.

He murmured, "Can I give you that life of Issac's ahead of time?"