The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride
Chapter 1843

Chapter 1843

Morrison sounded impatient, "Spit it out."

Riley coughed awkwardly again. "It's pretty obvious that Mrs. Witt adores you."

Morrison glanced at him coldly through the mirror. "Of course, did I need you to tell me that?"

If it was so obvious, why hadn't he pointed it out before? Now, after stirring up this whole mess, did he really need Riley to state the obvious?

Riley, undeservingly scolded, stayed quiet for a moment.

Morrison shifted in his seat, fell silent, then suddenly asked irritably, "What are you trying to say?"d2

Riley slowed the car down a bit, "Mr. Witt, it seems Mrs. Witt has returned to your place?"

Morrison leaned forward and sure enough, he could see the car heading towards the direction of their house. A flicker of brightness crossed his stony face, but it didn’t last long as he leaned back into his seat, his expression tangled.

She was home, yes, but with her fiery temper, he hadn’t quite figured out how to approach her yet. He rubbed his temples and suddenly thought that maybe, just maybe, he could take the Witt family to greater heights. Compared to dealing with Rose, striking a high-stakes deal seemed like a piece of cake.

Should he thank Rose for bringing out his hidden capabilities? This was tough. Way too tough. He had made his bed, now he had to lie in it. If he had known it would come to this, he would have avoided doing those regrettable things in the past.

How the tables have turned.

Having worked alongside Morrison for years, Riley knew his boss had the emotional intelligence of a rock, yet there wasn't much else to fault him for. Loyalty was a given after all these years.

"Mr. Witt, Mrs. Witt loves you so much, she won't want to see you struggle."

At this, Morrison paused, then looked up at Riley. "What do you mean by that?"

Riley continued, "She wouldn't want to see you in trouble, nor see you pitiful. Women are actually quite easy to appease. Especially someone like Mrs. Witt who loves you, she'll be even easier to win over."

Morrison's gaze sharpened, "Go on."

"You've always been too proud, but now that you've decided to throw your pride out the window. Um, I mean..."

Riley coughed awkwardly, catching Morrison's stern look in the rearview mirror, and suddenly felt a chill. "What I mean is that since things have come to this, doing something even more surprising can't hurt."

"What sort of things?"

Riley cleared his throat forcefully and after a moment of silence, he spoke, "In the trunk, I've prepared something for you. I guarantee it's a foolproof plan. If you're willing to do it, it will definitely work."

Morrison furrowed his brows, "You prepared it in advance?"

Riley gave a sheepish smile, "For some reason, I thought you might need it, so I kept it in the trunk."

--

Upon arrival at the villa, Megan and Molly were just stepping out, and upon seeing his car, they didn't approach. Instead, they stood at the entrance, clearly waiting for him.

Riley parked the car and hastily opened the door for Morrison. Morrison had just said some embarrassing things to Molly, and now he felt a bit awkward seeing her. But compared to the past few days with Rose, this was nothing. With Rose, everything felt natural. Even his own mother didn't make him feel as comfortable as Rose did.

"Are you leaving?"

Megan glared at him, huffed, and turned away, refusing to engage.

Molly wore a schadenfreude grin, "I've brought the lady back to you, and she's still in a foul mood. You made this mess, you fix it. But if you can't smooth things over, don't come running back to us. I've given you plenty of good advice, and if you end up embarrassing us. Well, that's on you."

Morrison, hands in his pockets, mumbled a vague acknowledgment.

"He'll figure it out? With his emotional intelligence of a brick? If he can't make it right with Rose, a divorce is in order. He can pack up and leave the Witt family. I'll adopt Rose as my granddaughter and find her a proper suitor. Anyone dares to cross her, I'll flay them alive,"

Megan ranted on, then gave Morrison a fierce look and whacked him with her cane. "Out of my way!"

Morrison stepped aside as Molly helped Megan down the steps.

As they were leaving, Morrison turned around. "Not staying with all this snow?"

"Seeing you just irks me. Staying would shave years off my life."

Morrison sighed.

As the car carrying them drove off, Morrison's gaze shifted to Riley. "What have you prepared for me?"

Riley then hurried to the car's trunk, fumbled around, and finally emerged with something in hand.

Morrison, curious, walked over and upon seeing what Riley held, his face darkened. "This is what you've had ready for me?"

Riley offered an awkward smile, "Yes... yes, it is."

"So you thought I'd inevitably need it, huh?"

Riley didn't answer this time. Even though it was true, saying it out loud was definitely a no-go. Silence was akin to agreement.

Morrison, frustrated, gave Riley a smack on the head, "Getting bold, aren't you?"

The hit wasn't hard, but Riley chuckled, "So, are you going to use it?"

"Get lost."

Morrison grabbed a handful of snow and tossed it at him, then turned and strode towards the villa.

Riley looked down at the onion in his hands, shaking his head with a hint of regret.

What a waste.

Even though he didn't catch Mr. Witt actually cutting onions, just knowing the incident had happened was like having a juicy secret in his pocket. Sometimes, he'd dangle it over Mr. Witt like a carrot, half-threatening to spill the beans, which was always good for a laugh.

Just as he was wallowing in disappointment, the object he was holding was suddenly snatched from his grasp.

Looking up, he found Morrison already turning on his heel, clutching the item with an icy expression.

Riley stood there, dumbfounded. It wasn't until Morrison walked inside and firmly shut the door behind him that Riley was jolted back to reality, catching a few snowflakes that had begun to fall.

Was it really that cold outside? Even Mr. Witt's ears had turned a frosty shade of red.

--

Inside, Morrison stared at the onion in his hands, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. Damn Riley, he had actually prepared this for him.

The living room lights were on, but it was eerily quiet. No sound came from elsewhere on the ground floor.

Rose was probably upstairs.

Looking down at the washboard again, he felt as if he'd been stung, and quickly averted his gaze.

Ruffling his hair in frustration, he paced back and forth in the living room, clutching the washboard. After several long minutes, he finally stopped at the foot of the stairs.

He stared up towards the second floor for an eternity, his feet raising and lowering indecisively. If he went up there this time, he would be done for in front of Rose. Forever.

"Mr. Witt, since you've already thrown dignity out the window, what's one more embarrassing act?" Riley's words, though irritating, seemed to make an annoying amount of sense.

But could he really go through with it?

He remembered the times he and Rose had locked horns, both too stubborn to give in, a battle of wills. And now, here he was, on the back foot, but to cut onions in front of Rose...

He was still wrestling with the idea when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a message from Molly with a video attachment.

He frowned in annoyance, about to lock the screen, but then another message from Molly popped up.

[Do yourself a favor and watch it. Some things you don't see coming, and you'll regret it when it's too late.]

Hesitantly, Morrison opened the video, which started with a black screen and white text: "Treat your wife well when you're young, or else..."

Or else what? Reluctantly, he played the video, which turned out to be a cartoon.

A middle-aged man sat in a wheelchair, watching as a beautiful woman danced in the park with another man.

They were shown having tea together, with the woman laughing and chatting with the other man while the wheelchair-bound man slid unnoticed down a slope.

In the last scene, the woman was pushing the wheelchair-bound man by a lake when they encountered the same man she had danced and chatted with. Whether by accident or design, the wheelchair rolled into the lake.

Initially baffled, Morrison finally got the message after watching the video again from start to finish.

[Treat your wife well when you're young, or else...]

Otherwise, she might fall for someone else in her later years.

Dancing, having tea, casual encounters with another man, all while ignoring him, treating him coldly, or even plotting his demise....

The thought of Rose with another man filled him with a choking rage. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and, without hesitation, stomped up the stairs. But just as he reached the bedroom door, he slammed on the brakes. After taking a couple of deep breaths to calm his heated emotions, he gently pushed the door open.

Rose, back in the bedroom, didn't know how to face Morrison. He had changed so much lately, and she found it hard to handle the new Morrison. He had become shamelessly relentless, and if he came back and started nagging her.

She didn't think she could last much longer. The memory of his phone call in the car had already made her laugh for a long time.

To prevent herself from going soft when she saw Morrison again, she changed into her nightgown and retreated into the bathroom. She would steel her resolve, so even if Morrison pulled his usual antics, she wouldn't show him any warmth tonight.

When Morrison opened the bedroom door, he noticed immediately that the room was empty. Listening closely, he heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. He had just stepped inside when the water stopped abruptly.

Morrison paused, clinging to the onion, tempted to bolt, but feeling like the arrow was already notched to the bowstring, he turned back.

Rose emerged from the bathroom to find an unexpected presence on the bed. She steeled herself, refusing to speak. Pretending not to see him, she went straight to her vanity to perform her skincare

routine.

But wherever she went, Morrison's gaze followed, his body shifting to face her.

Once Rose finished her routine and approached the bed, she looked at him coldly, "Planning on sleeping here?"

Morrison nodded, "Of course."

Rose turned away, "I'm used to sleeping alone. If you're here, then I'll go sleep in the guest room."

But Morrison quickly propped himself up and caught her hand. Rose struggled, "Let go of me, Morrison. I'm really not in the mood."

"Honey, I'm sorry."

Honey?

A smirk played at the corner of Rose's mouth.

Well, the term honey was one thing, but his tone was so pitiful. Who was supposed to feel pitied here?

Morrison gently pulled her back, swaying slightly, "Let's sleep here tonight. It might be strange now, but you'll get used to it. um..."

Um... what? Where was his usual confident demeanor?

"But every time I see you, I can't help but remember all the outrageous things you've done."

"Can't I change? It was all my fault. Please, stay tonight."

Rose's lips twitched, fighting a smile, but she turned back and grabbed the blanket,

"I can stay, but you'll have to go to the guest room."

As she spoke, she lifted the blanket, and then, with the last word on her lips, she froze at the sight before her.

Staring at Morrison's knees, it took her a moment to believe what she saw.

Morrison, his face flushed, eyes darting side to side, his ears so red they seemed to bleed.

She had thought his position on the bed odd, but never in a million years did she expect to find him on the bed with an onion.

Unable to bear her gaze any longer, Morrison ran a hand through his hair and covered his face.

With his face hidden, Rose couldn't see his expression, but she heard him mumble again:

"Please, forgive me."

Rose paused for a moment, her disbelief etched across her face, now contorted with sheer astonishment. She tried to hold back, she really did, but the absurdity of the scene before her was too much.

She burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably.

Morrison tensed atop the bed, peering through his fingers at Rose. Once he was sure it was indeed laughter that broke the tense silence, he exhaled, a wave of relief washing over him, tinged with a profound sense of embarrassment.

Rose couldn't stop laughing. Even though she had braced herself for a multitude of scenarios, preparing to stay resolute, determined not to let Morrison off the hook easily tonight, this was

beyond anything she had anticipated.

Of all the things Morrison could have done, she never imagined he'd pull this stunt.

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