The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride
Chapter 1948

Chapter 1948

Seth's brows knitted slightly before he leaned back into the chair, reopening the book he had just closed. His eyes locked back onto the text as he spoke in a tone so even-keeled it barely rippled the air. "You're out of chances."

At that, Kane's brow furrowed, he paused for a few seconds and rolled his eyes. "First loves are only first loves when they actually happen, you know. Didn't you just say you weren't interested?"

Seth's gaze settled on a particular word, paused, and the recently eased expression on his face seemed to darken in an instant. "Can you just not?"

Knowing Seth's temper all too well, Kane casually picked up a book and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Danielle to return.

Cicely finished her homework and, bored out of her mind, plopped onto the couch. She munched on some popcorn and half-watched a movie. But after only devouring half the snack and giving the movie a mere fifteen minutes of her attention, she grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.

Standing at the top of the stairs, clutching a pillow she snatched from the couch, she looked left and right, her gaze finally resting on the far-left corner of the upstairs hallway.d2

After a brief pause, she walked over.

At the end of the corridor was the music room, where a white piano stood by the window, surrounded by various other instruments. Violins, cellos, recorders, guitars – each had their rightful place.

Music was perhaps Cicely's reluctant hobby, chosen under the duress of not disappointing her father. Though he doted on her, he wouldn't have her be a lady without skills.

Singing, dancing, instruments, painting, even judo and martial arts were laid out before her to choose from. Her father, Creighton, had hoped she'd pick something like judo or martial arts, something that would enable her to protect herself. But Cicely hadn't even considered dance. The thought of the grueling flexibility training, the sweat from every intense session, made her wrinkle her nose in distaste.

Painting required immense patience and a talent she felt she lacked. Singing was too much of an effort to even open her mouth. So that left instruments as her sole option.

After all, being the daughter of the prestigious Ellis family, she had to have some sort of skill to uphold the family's reputation.

Initially, the cool allure of the guitar caught her interest, so she learned to play. Once she got the hang of it, the allure of the violin caught her eye, and she went on to learn that, followed by the cello. A period film sparked an interest in the zither, and later, the elegance of the piano made her bring one home.

Though it might seem she was a jack-of-all-trades, master of none, the Ellis family genes blessed Cicely with a sharp mind that made her quite adept at each instrument in the room.

She glanced around the room, taking the path of least resistance to the piano, and sat down. Bored, she slammed a note, the somber sound echoing her mood.

A few discordant notes later, she half-heartedly played an obscure melody until the setting sun cast an orange glow on the white piano, signaling it was time to stop.

Back in her room, Cicely checked her phone—it was past five with no calls or messages. Throwing herself onto the soft bed, she stared at the phone for a while, her finger hovering over the call log and messaging app, hesitant to contact Seth after their last encounter. She feared running into another of his cold rebuffs.

Finally, she tossed the phone aside, buried her head in the pillow, and clutched its sides tightly.

Seth was the only man who could make Cicely so cautious and wary. Another like him? No way; she wasn't that masochistic.

At six in the evening, with daylight still lingering, Danielle was down to her last two math problems. Kane, the "whiz kid," had given up silently after pretending to ponder for ages, leaving the floor to Seth.

Seth had taken Danielle's notebook with an unspoken grace, scanned the problems, and within minutes, his pen revealed the correct answers with a flourish—clear, concise, and effortlessly understood.

"Got it?" he asked.

Despite her nerves, Danielle found his explanation surprisingly clear and nodded in understanding.

Seth then explained the last problem and wrapped up the session.

"Oh, I see! That's how it works." On the side, Kane had an expression of sudden realization.

Seth threw the pen in his hand onto the table before standing up, holding the book he had been reading halfway through. "That's enough for today."

A wave of disappointment washed over Danielle, but before she could speak, Kane jumped in.

"That's it? What if Danielle still didn’t get it?"

Danielle bit her lip, realizing if she hadn't understood, perhaps the session wouldn't have ended so abruptly.

Yet Seth just gave Kane a chilly, mocking glance and said, "Didn't you get it?"

Kane ran a hand through his hair, his triumph fading to irritation. He turned to Danielle, "What's he getting at?"

Danielle forced a smile, picked up the paper with Seth's solutions, and carefully bookmarked it in her textbook. Though she had wanted to tell Seth she didn't understand, she now felt too embarrassed to say anything. After all, his message was clear—and she had understood it all too well. Kane could understand it. It would be embarrassing if she couldn't.

Even a fool could read between the lines, and she wasn't about to prove herself dumber than a fool, was she? Though she knew there was jest in the air, it still managed to scatter all the thoughts she had a moment ago.

Seth had just returned a book to its rightful spot on the shelf when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

The text was from Patty— [Sent the help off for the afternoon. I'm at The Rusty Anchor, come join me for dinner with Danielle. Miss her.]

Seth frowned slightly, his lips tightening, no intention of replying as his gaze paused on the name below Patty’s.

Cicely. A name that once suggested elegance and serenity, now burdened with the contrary traits of its bearer. Arrogant, proud, and petulant.

There were no notifications next to her clean profile picture. Silence since the last message.

Indifferent, he pocketed his phone and stepped out to see Danielle just ending a call, smiling at him, "Patty wants us to join her for dinner."

Seth gave no reaction, and Danielle, used to his temperament, hurried after him. No refusal meant tacit consent.

Kane wisely went his own way.

Dinner went as Patty wished. An hour passed around the table until Patty could no longer bear Seth's growing chill, and the gathering finally came to an end.

Danielle returned to the Ellis household at eight, clutching her math textbook tightly.

Cicely, fresh from her evening routine, lounged in pineapple-print silk pajamas, hugging a pillow on the couch, engrossed in a variety show, with a steaming cup of milk on the coffee table.

Everyone in the family knew that Cicely needed her warm milk before bed.

When Danielle returned, the household servants naturally went to greet her.

Cicely in the living room was aware too. But the two rarely exchanged more than a few words, and Cicely merely glanced at her before turning back to the TV.

A servant took Danielle's bag, but she refused to hand over her textbook, not even setting it down to switch her shoes.

"Miss Danielle, your dinner was kept warm."

"I’ve already eaten."

Her voice was lighter than usual in the Ellis home, prompting a second glance from the servants.

Creighton, hearing the commotion, descended from upstairs.

Danielle was in good spirits, but Cicely unexpectedly rose from her seat, pillow still in arms, her brows shadowed with an unusual gloom.

"Is the Ellis family so poor we can't afford a phone call? Couldn’t you have told us you wouldn't be home for dinner? Do you have any idea how long Dad waited for you?"

Cicely was in a foul mood. The entire household was on eggshells, careful not to provoke the pride princess. Danielle's oversight was like walking into the line of fire.

Cicely's sharp words wiped the smile from Danielle's face. "I didn’t ask anyone to wait for me."

Cicely had expected an apology, but Danielle's response stoked her anger. "So the Ellis family has been feeding an ingrate for two years."

"Cicely!" Creighton's reprimand was sharper than intended.

Danielle glanced at Creighton, suppressing the needs to insult. She bit her lip and said, "I'm sorry. It was my fault. It won't happen again next time."

"Alright, now that you've eaten, go upstairs and rest." Creighton had hoped the two would find camaraderie, but now he just wanted to separate these two firecrackers.

Danielle nodded, her eyes briefly meeting Cicely's, who looked ready to pounce. "You resent the Ellis family yet take everything we offer, is everyone’s kindness fake to you? Do you think you’re so noble that all must please you, court you? The Ellis family owes you nothing, least of all my father and I. That sour face you wear, do you know how repulsive it is? Or is it intentional, to be spiteful?"

Creighton felt a headache brewing. "Cicely, enough!"

Cicely turned to Creighton, "I'm your daughter, and I'm not feeling too aggrieved, but your coddling of her over me, is it worth it?"

Her words left no room for Danielle to reply, her cheeks burning with the sting of humiliation. "So what now? I've already apologized."

Cicely remained unappeased, "What took you so long?"

Danielle was speechless, "What do you want from me?"

"Enough, both of you. This is giving me a headache. Danielle, go to your room."

Creighton's exasperation was palpable, and Danielle, lips pressed tight, snatched her bag from the servant and headed upstairs.

The servant, caught off guard, instinctively eased up on the strength, causing Danielle to jerk back from the reactive force. She stumbled towards the servant, struggling to maintain her balance, and as she did, the book she was holding tumbled to the ground. Out of the fallen book, something fluttered down, landing right by Cicely's feet.

Cicely lifted her foot with some disdain, intending to kick away the thing at her feet. However, when she lowered her head, she saw the paper covered with writing facing up.

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