The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride
Chapter 1835

Chapter 1835

“As for Morrison Witt's birthday bash, it had no conflict with my press conference. I mean, the Spotlight Beauty launch isn't exactly a 24-hour marathon, right? It's practically wrapping up as we speak."

The reporter piped up, "What about Witt's ex-girlfriend? Her sudden return and staying at the same hospital—why are both of them hospitalized at the same time?"

"His ex just got back to town, and now Witt's throwing this massive birthday shindig. You sure she's not a factor in this?"

Rose flashed a casual smile. "Just wanted to have a birthday celebration, you know? Sometimes, there isn't a hidden agenda. My husband and I are solid. I wish folks wouldn't read into things too much. Like my colleague just said, today's all about the new line from Spotlight Beauty. Let's keep things professional and focus on the product, shall we? Thanks for your support."

Once these issues were on the table, there was no way the focus would shift back to the company's new products. For them, gossip was a far juicier story than any product launch.

Handing the mic off to the host, Rose turned with a smile and headed backstage. Only when she was out of sight did her smile fade.d2

A colleague, worried, followed her backstage where she was sipping water from a thermos. "Mrs. Witt, you okay?" they asked.

Rose set down her cup and smiled, shaking her head. "I'm fine, really."

"But are you and Mr. Witt really all good?"

The questions from the reporters weren't baseless. Spotlight Beauty's launch and Witt's birthday party were the talk of the town in R City. This couple, always so private yet always the talk of the

town, suddenly found their high-profile events clashing head-on. It was hard not to pay attention.

Was everything between her and Morrison really okay? She didn't know.

And as for what was happening at Morrison's birthday party, she was in the dark. From the reporters' questions, it was clear Mona hadn't shown up at the party yet. If she had, the reporters' reactions would have been far more intense.

The situation was already tense, but if Mona made an appearance, Rose would be in the eye of the storm. The whispers, the sneers, and the vile comments online would all be amplified by Mona's presence at Morrison's party. She'd have to face the accusations she'd always tried to ignore, the ones she pretended didn't bother her:

The homewrecker.

The schemer climbing the social ladder with a child.

The ruthless woman.

--

Standing outside the hotel, Rose watched the heavy snowfall paint the night white. Passersby seemed to delight in the sudden flurry.

Hands tucked into the pockets of her down jacket, she caressed the velvet lining, her gaze distant.

Her mind wandered back to a snowy day years ago.

She had worked night shifts for two months at a jewelry counter, all to afford a platinum bracelet.

Yes, a bracelet for Morrison's birthday. A man wearing a bracelet might seem absurd to some—a cumbersome accessory, typically feminine. A watch would be the more conventional choice for a

man.

But she felt Morrison suited the bracelet perfectly. His hands were elegant, his wrists artfully slender. A ring would look amazing on him, but where did she stand to gift him that?

His hands, born to luxury, were well-formed, suited to adornment.

A watch was too commonplace, and far beyond her means. Even a year's wages wouldn't buy a watch Morrison would truly appreciate.

She wanted to give him something meaningful, something earned with her own money.

He definitely would use some sarcastic words at that time, but he had always been like that to her anyway. Over time, she had also become accustomed to it.

Their strange relationship looked like mutual disdain, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. They supported each other's social events like "friends." Their dynamic was odd, but as long as there was a connection, any form would do.

He might scoff at the bracelet, might not treat her kindly, but that didn't mean he wouldn't wear it.

After two months of night shifts and bonuses, she was still short on cash. Skipping classes and working nonstop, she finally had enough to buy the bracelet the day before his birthday.

On Morrison's birthday, when she arrived at the party, all dressed up, he was nowhere to be found.

He had given her the address himself and invited her to come, albeit grudgingly, but when she got there, she was informed the party had moved.

She didn't want to believe it was a cruel joke on her. She trusted Morrison wasn't that kind of person. Yet, he wouldn't answer her calls.

After several attempts, Mona picked up. "Sorry, Morrison decided to switch up the venue last minute for a new club opening. Where are you? It's getting late—are you still coming? I'll text you the address."

The snow began to fall heavier as she took a cab to the new location. But Morrison's phone went unanswered.

She stood outside like that for a whole night, and the heavy snow almost buried her into a snowman. The velvet box in her pocket turned icy cold.

That snowy night became a day she could never forget in her life, something she couldn't erase from her memory no matter how hard she tried.

It was Morrison's last birthday before leaving school. Afterward, the holiday break began, and the university emptied.

As the new school year unfolded, the chill in the air between Morrison and Rose had turned downright glacial. From barbed exchanges and frosty comments, he had moved to a state of complete indifference.

She became invisible to him, not even warranting a single spoken word. She no longer had any opportunity to close that growing gap.

And then, graduation came, and they drifted apart, each going their own way. The birthday present she'd never had the chance to give him remained undelivered.

A gust of cold wind whistled through the trees, sneaking under her collar and making her shiver. Shaking off the chill, Rose blinked and looked down, slowly pulling her hands out of her coat pockets.

In her palm lay a purple, rectangular velvet box. She opened it with her other hand, and the hotel's lights gleamed off the simple platinum bracelet nestled inside.

A single snowflake danced through the air and landed gracefully upon it.

Platinum jewelry had been all the rage back then, and although it had somewhat fallen out of style, it still held a timeless charm.

Morrison had professed his love for her.

Whatever happened in the past, Rose could always turn the page. This year, on his birthday, she wondered if this long-held gift would ever reach him.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the box with a snap and slipped it back into her pocket. She stepped down from the porch and made her way to the parking lot.

As she unlocked her car, a beam of light suddenly cut through the darkness. Shielding her eyes, she was met with the sound of another car door opening.

"Rose."

A tall figure stood before her, backlit and imposing.

She frowned, lowering her arm to look up at him. "Who are you?"

"Rose, are you here for Mr. Witt's birthday party?" the stranger inquired.

On her guard, Rose asked, "What about it?"

"Please come with me."

"Who exactly are you?"

The man did not respond.

--

The Spotlight Beauty product launch was still in full swing, with company reps tirelessly promoting the new line. However, the buzz among the journalists and guests was all about Morrison and Rose.

Some speculated that Morrison's public opposition to Rose was just a warning, a signal for her to step aside now that an old flame had resurfaced.

The room was abuzz as everyone speculated openly about the fate of the two.

Morrison arrived just as the discussion reached its peak. His sudden appearance, with a stern face, silenced the crowd. They approached to offer pleasantries but recoiled at the aura of hostility emanating from him.

The staff's mood was soured, having heard so many cutting remarks about their boss. How could they be happy? They knew better than anyone the kind of person Rose was at the company.

They knew the slights Rose had suffered, and now she was belittled and gossiped about behind her back, all thanks to this man.

Even though he was a man not to be trifled with in R City, that didn't change the fact that he was the culprit.

"Where's Rose?" Morrison asked bluntly, his voice cold.

"We don’t know. She might have been tired and gone home to rest."

"Yeah, Mr. Witt. Did you come here in person to force the issue after a remote warning didn't suffice?"

The sarcasm in the voice made Morrison's expression darken. "What are you implying?"

The person scoffed. "This launch was going fine until your birthday party started drawing all the attention. The press has been all over your marital status and about your beloved ex-girlfriend. Most folks here are betting on when you'll get divorced."

"Mr. Witt's tactics are truly unmatched. Thankfully, you didn't bring your ex to add insult to injury for Ms. Rose. If you had paraded your ex here to pressure her, that would've been utterly despicable."

Someone tugged at the sleeve of the outspoken woman.

"What are you pulling me for? So what if he's handsome and rich? I'm a woman too, you know. Don't think that just because you're desirable, every woman's into you. There are plenty of better men out there. What good is a good-looking but useless man who shows affection to other women? I'd rather spend on some fun gadgets from online shops – they'd be more useful than him!"

Morrison's eyelids twitched. "What the hell is with women these days?"

Were sex toys really more useful than him?

The room fell silent, everyone sweating for the audacious woman, yet also admiring her courage.

To speak so boldly, and to Mr. Witt, no less? Mr. Witt was less useful than sex toys?

"Ha!"

Miles away in a luxurious manor in P City, a soft chuckle resonated. Chloe, with a Bluetooth earpiece clipped to her ear, covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes twinkled with amusement.

Where did this gem of an employee come from? She was a rare find.

A man approached her, scooping her into his arms.

"What's so funny?"

Chloe giggled, "Morrison got a tongue-lashing from Rose's coworker."

Damon smirked, "What about?"

"She said Morrison is less useful to Rose than some fun gadgets from online shops. But come to think of it, she's right. They've been married for over two months, and isn't it just a charade?"

Damon held her as they entered the bedroom, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

"Don't talk as if you've used those things."

Chloe's cheeks flushed. "Of course, I haven't."

"You seem to know quite a bit about them."

"There's no end to learning."

Damon raised an eyebrow. "You've studied them?"

"No..."

"We might consider trying them out for a show and tell."

Damon cut off her protest, heating Chloe’s cheeks even more. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

"That's reserved for you now. You'll need to get used to it." He kissed the corner of her lips. "Sit tight, I'll warm up some milk for you."

Chloe nodded, settling back on the bed, with her phone in hand.

--

Back at the Spotlight Beauty launch, the atmosphere was tinged with awkwardness.

People around were unsure whether to laugh or stay silent, and Rose's coworkers took a while to pull the outspoken woman aside.

"Ahem. Mr. Witt, don't mind me, but I saw Mrs. Witt heading backstage. She's probably off to your birthday bash. After all, it's your birthday, and it's not like her to miss out, right?"

Morrison's gaze snapped to him, "Are you sure?"

The colleague nodded, "Yeah, if she wasn't joining your birthday party, I doubt she'd duck out early."

Someone from behind chimed in, "Definitely going to the party, I reckon. Saw her earlier with a gift box in her hands – must be a birthday present for you."

Morrison's usually frosty expression melted as if someone had suddenly shone a blinding light into a chasm of shadows. In a flash, the mood went from storm clouds gathering to full-blown sunshine.

Before the voice had even finished echoing, Morrison was already strides away.

Approaching the entrance of the banquet hall, he stopped abruptly, turned on his heels, and walked up to a reporter. Grabbing the microphone, he declared, "When I decided to get hitched, I didn't do it with the intention of ever getting a divorce. In this lifetime, there's only one Mrs. Witt, and that's Rose. She's the only one with that right. No one else stands a chance."

The entire hall erupted into a buzz of excitement.

"And another thing, the woman I like, and the woman I love, has always been only Rose."

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