The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride
Chapter 1941

Chapter 1941

When Seth returned, Cicely had already dumped a pile of textbooks on his bed.

"Cicely." Seth approached, setting down the pie he was carrying onto the desk by the window.

Cicely was nestled among the books, sipping on juice as she looked up at him. "What's up?"

"Is your bed meant to be a study area?"

Cicely swung her legs playfully. "My bed's good for lots of things." Did homework have to be done at a desk, of all places?

Seth's dark eyes narrowed slightly as he stood by the desk, gazing at Cicely's innocent face. His gaze drifted down to her swinging ankles, and he turned to take a sip of water. "Get down," he said, his back to her, his voice cold.d2

"But I haven't finished my juice yet."

Seth remained silent, but Cicely noticed the tray he had placed on the desk now coming into her line of sight, no longer blocked by his body. A smile spread across her beautiful face, and then she saw Seth retract his hand from the edge of the tray. His icy voice followed. "Hurry up and eat the pie. I can't stand its cloying sweetness."

Cicely hopped off the bed and sidled up to him, nudging Seth with her hip and side. Seth shifted to the side from her nudge.

Leaning against the desk, Cicely began to cut into the pie and popped a piece into her mouth. Grinning at him, she teased, "If you don't like it, why bring it in? I didn't say I wanted any."

Seth's grip on his water glass tightened, and he turned to watch the plate of pie move past his field of vision.

Cicely's quick actions looked as if she was afraid he'd snatch the pie away halfway through.

The household staff knew Seth didn't like sweets, but they had prepared two servings of pie. Cicely ate both. The room filled with the rich, sweet scent of pie.

After polishing off the pie and patting her belly, Cicely sighed contentedly and turned to see Seth sitting upright on a chair nearby, his elbow on the desk, his fingers resting against his cheek, his gaze fixed on a page of the book he was pressing.

The sunlight poured through the window, bathing him in a warm glow that made his crisp white shirt shine, making him look so clean and fair. Lucky for her, her own skin was always flawless, or she'd be green with envy over his complexion.

He’s a guy, and he was prettier than most girls.

She scooted over, peeking at the book that had him so captivated, "What are you reading that's got you so engrossed?"

Her shoulder rested against his arm, her head drawing close, her hair carrying a faint, gentle fragrance mixed with a hint of strawberry pie. It wasn't overpowering, but at such close quarters, the presence was undeniable.

He leaned back slightly in response. Out of curiosity, she leaned in even closer, half her body sprawled across the desk, nearly all her weight resting on him. Frowning, he pulled away the hand she was leaning on and closed the book.

It was a finance book. Cicely wrinkled her nose in distaste and straightened up. "Come on, help me with my studies. I've been here for ages. The least you can do is help me solve one problem." She spoke, already walking toward the bed.

Seth closed his eyes briefly, knowing nothing he said would make her leave his room of her own accord. With a stifled annoyance, he said sternly, "Come over here."

"No thanks. It's comfy here."

Cicely sat on the edge of the bed, her slippers and feet parted, her skirt hiked up to reveal slender calves swinging leisurely.

Seth's gaze darkened, his lips tightening. "Cicely, hasn't anyone taught you not to just barge into other people's rooms, especially not a man's?"

Cicely hummed thoughtfully through her nose, drawing out the sound. "Mmm... no, I guess that would need a prompt, right? Otherwise, who would just randomly tell me that?"

Seth's eyes narrowed as he stood and moved toward her, Cicely's eyes sparkling as they followed him, her gaze lifting as he approached.

At sixteen, he was tall, strikingly handsome and well-formed. It made sense that she liked him.

Finally, Seth stopped beside her and suddenly leaned in close. His clean, fresh scent enveloped her, and Cicely's eyes locked onto his, the two faces inches apart.

Seth studied her perfect complexion for a long while, an aloof, slightly mocking smile playing on his lips. He propped his hand beside her, leaning in further.

Cicely instinctively leaned back. The smile on Seth's lips became more pronounced. "Then let me tell you now, don't go into other men's rooms without thinking."

Cicely blinked, her eyes that had been stiff moments ago now shining like sunlit gemstones. "Okay, if you say so, I'll remember."

Seth frowned at her carefree laugh, feeling an unexpected sense of defeat. Did she perceive a threat, or was she simply heeding his words?

He straightened up, a math textbook now in his hand. "What have you covered in class this past week?"

"We've almost finished the first two sections of the first unit."

Seth paused in flipping through the book, looking down at her. "A week, and only two sections?"

Cicely nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah, those tutors drone on like robots, more official and monotonous than my dad in a business meeting. They're the ones I hired, but they seem like they'd much rather be corporate executives."

Seth pressed his lips together. She was indeed naive, but her words were clear enough. Most tutors these days were high-achieving graduates from prestigious schools, and of course, working for the Ellis family company would be preferable to temporary tutoring gigs.

"Do you have your workbook?"

Cicely glanced at the scattered books on the bed and nodded. "Should be there somewhere."

Seth shot her another look, then bent down to find the workbook among the books. He reviewed the exercises for the first section, finding that the last few problems had only the final answers, all correct.

He flipped to the back and, unsurprisingly, found several pages of answers still firmly attached. His expression darkened as he tore the answer pages out. Cicely frowned slightly at his action.

Seth casually lobbed the book at her. "Get the exercises from chapter two done."

Cicely rummaged through a pile of books to find her pencil case and aimed for the bed to write.

"Do it at the desk."

Cicely scrunched up her face, her displeasure clear as day. But Seth stood firm, brooking no argument. After a stubborn moment, she gave in and chose the desk. As she put on her shoes, she muttered, “If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be putting up with this.”

Seth watched her scamper to the chair and settle in, his eyes lingering on her for a few seconds before he turned to organize her books by subject on the bed.

After Cicely finished a set of problems, she turned to see Seth sitting on the bed, doodling in her textbook with her pen in hand.

Noticing her gaze, his voice was indifferent, eyes not leaving the page. “Done?”

“Yeah.”

He marked his page with the pen and stood up, walking over to the desk and glanced at the clock. "An entire hour for a basic set of problems?"

He picked up her workbook and skimmed through her hour's worth of effort in mere minutes, his expression souring. "You'd make a fine con artist with that look of yours," he said, not unkindly.

Cicely frowned, “What’s wrong?”

“You seem so sharp and clever, but really, you’re just a dunce.”

She bit her lip. Seth expected his bluntness to sting her pride, but instead, she asked, “Con artist? What's that supposed to mean?”

Seth took a deep breath, reigning in the sudden flare of irritation, and laid the workbook on the desk. “This problem here...”

He was tall, and with only one chair in the room, he had to stoop to explain the problem to Cicely, who was sitting down.

She stood up. “You take the chair.”

He looked at her, surprised. She knew how to be considerate?

Cicely stretched her back and neck, pacing a bit before looking at him with a grin. “You’re older, so it’s only right that I offer you my seat.”

Seth’s grip on his pen tightened, about to snap, but Cicely pointed at a multiple-choice question. “Mr. Seth, why did I get this wrong?”

When Seth kept silent, Cicely continued, “Mr. Seth? I think I'd learn more from those tutors I used to have if you don't start explaining.”

His grip on the pen relaxed as he glanced at the problem she was pointing at, and he began to explain, slowly and clearly. “Decimal times decimal, turn it into a whole number first… Both digits are 5 and 8, so the last digit can’t be anything but 0. Where did you get 5 from? Can’t you get basic arithmetic right?”

Cicely exhaled slowly. “It’s okay to get one wrong once in a while. I understand the concept. Plus, there’s always calculators. I don’t need to do it all in my head.”

Seth felt a headache coming on.

Cicely waved her hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, I’ll do it again.” She pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and worked through the problem again. “B. That’s correct, right?”

Seth couldn’t muster the energy to correct her again and moved on to the next problem. His voice was calm and clear, and his methodical approach to the solutions on his scratch paper seemed especially attractive to Cicely. She had seen her dad’s handwriting, which was different from the rigid writing taught in school.

Seth’s handwriting was different too, similar to her dad's but with its own flair. Smooth, with elegant curves, it looked like it belonged to someone competent and confident.

As he spoke steadily, Cicely propped her chin on her hands, watching his hand. “You have really nice handwriting.”

Seth paused, glanced at the numbers on the paper, and took a breath. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah. Your voice is nice too.”

Seth was exasperated.

Cicely straightened up and glanced at his desk. “Your desk is too bland. You should have more things on it, like a vase of flowers over there.”

She sighed. “Seth, I’m thirsty.”

Seth dropped the pen and stood up, his face a mask of cool indifference as he left the room.

It was lunchtime. Seth instructed the housekeeper to prepare lunch. After a glass of ice-cold water, the irritation Cicely had stoked subsided a bit. He put the water back in the fridge and, upon closing the door, found himself holding a bottle of juice.

When he returned to the bedroom with a glass of juice in hand, Cicely was no longer at the desk. Her shadow had taken refuge on his bed, her ponytail lying across the pillow. The books he'd

organized were once again in disarray.

Seth felt like Cicely was using up all the patience he had in his life. Aside from her cute face, there was nothing commendable about her.

He placed the juice on the nightstand and stood watching her peaceful face for a long time.

Carefree as could be, completely unguarded, at thirteen, was she really so oblivious to the world of teen crushes and relationships, or was she just that innocent?

Suddenly, she stirred. Seth retracted his gaze but saw that she only curled up a little more, her skirt sliding up to reveal more of her slender legs.

He frowned, picked up a blanket from the side, and tossed it over her, then turned to the thermostat and raised the temperature a couple of degrees.

The housekeeper knocked to call them for lunch. Cicely woke up groggy and in a bad mood from being disturbed.

“Get up for lunch.” Seth, seeing her awake, spoke curtly and headed for the door.

Only then did Cicely realize she had fallen asleep in Seth's bed. The thought that he hadn't been angry made her bad mood dissipate by half. She threw off the blanket, paused to pinch the thin material, and with a raised eyebrow and a bounce in her step, she slipped on her shoes and cheerfully ran downstairs. “Seth, your pillow's too hard. I didn't sleep well.”

The busy housekeeper glanced at Cicely in surprise. Had she slept in Mr. Seth's bed? Looking to Seth, who seemed as indifferent as ever, as if nothing had happened, they were left with a hint of confusion. They must have misunderstood.

--

The next day, Cicely made herself at home again. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, her personal bodyguard, Hank, trailing behind her with a box in his arms.

Inside were the items she had mentioned yesterday: ornaments from her desk, a vase, and a bunch of pristine white peonies. Without asking for permission, she began arranging these things on his desk.

No matter how sour his expression turned, she refused to remove the objects she'd placed there.

The next day, she brought in a pillow. And the day after that, she showed up with a well-loved teddy bear that seemed to have seen better days.

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