The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride
Chapter 1983

Chapter 1983

The silence was deafening as they drove on.

Danielle shot glances at Seth, who sat enveloped in an aura of brooding aloofness, making her lose whatever courage she had mustered to strike up a conversation.

But then again, what was there to talk about? Any attempt at small talk would just be her trying to fill the uncomfortable void between them, and likely, would only serve to embarrass herself.

After much deliberation and hesitation, she found a topic that seemed safe enough. "Sorry for the trouble," she muttered.

Seth remained quiet.

Even though she was accustomed to his coldness, Danielle couldn't shake off the feeling of awkwardness that crept over her. Biting her lip, she turned her face away, looking out the window.d2

"We don't have any bad blood between us. Can't you drop the silent treatment? Just because you're with Cicely doesn't mean you can't talk to other women, right? She was so possessive today, like she couldn't stand you being around any other woman. Do you think that's normal?"

Finally, Seth responded, glancing at her briefly, his voice indifferent, "So, you're okay with your man having other women around?"

Danielle was taken aback, "Even monks can't turn away women who come to worship at the temple."

There was a brief silence before Seth chuckled darkly, a fleeting shadow crossing his eyes. "Too bad I'm not a monk."

Danielle thought he misunderstood her, "You're not one to make your life difficult. Being with her, bound so tightly, doesn't it wear you down? She's only going to bring more trouble your way."

"Danielle," Seth said, his hand casually resting on the steering wheel, his posture relaxed, "Gossiping behind someone's back is in poor taste."

She froze, a rush of heat flooding her face, then draining away leaving her pale. Her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her voice quivered with barely concealed sharpness, "And Cicely never talked behind my back?"

The traffic light turned red, and they stopped. Seth glanced at her, the slight curve of his eyes and lips sending a wave of discomfort through Danielle. He was implying that Cicely was above such behavior.

"You didn't have to come yourself today. You're not always doing what Patty tells you."

If he was truly obedient, he never would have agreed to be with Cicely in the first place.

"It was unexpected that she found out. Picking you up..." Seth paused as the car started moving again, and almost simultaneously, he continued, "I just thought it would make you happy."

Danielle's heart skipped a beat. She stared at Seth's profile, trying to decipher something, anything, from his impassive face. "What do you mean by that? You accuse me of speaking ill of Cicely, and now you want to make me happy. What are you really thinking?"

Seth didn't look at her, his lips curling into what seemed like a smile, but it sent a chill down her spine instead. "Don't overthink it, or you'll just feel worse."

Danielle couldn't process his words, "What are you trying to say?!"

His gaze darkened, and he reverted to his usual indifference. "Everything has its price. Just like obtaining something has its cost, debts must be repaid."

She didn't understand. "Why are you suddenly talking like this?"

They pulled into a high-end residential area, and Seth fell silent, his words leaving Danielle with an unsettling feeling. She knew that no matter how much she pressed, she would get no further answers.

Glancing at the rearview mirror, Seth drove into the underground parking of the apartment complex. As Danielle stepped out of the car, a cacophony of engine roars, brakes squealing, and car doors slamming resounded through the garage. Several men in black suits, each wielding a metal bat, began to approach.

"What... what are you doing." Danielle's voice trembled, her complexion ghostly as she staggered backward.

Seth watched the unfolding scene through the mirror, then finally, stepped out of the car.

Danielle rushed to his side, "Seth..."

He moved to the trunk, fixing his gaze on the men emerging from another car. "What do you want?"

Issac, leading the suited men, nodded at Seth, "My apologies, Mr. Diaz. Ms. Cicely is in a bad mood. She’s having a tantrum, and she said you agreed to indulge her. So here I am, just following orders."

Danielle's face turned to ice upon seeing Issac, "So she throws a tantrum, and you guys come chasing us down here?"

Issac didn't reply, just shot her a cold glance.

Seth asked coolly, "How does she want to make a scene?"

Instead of answering, Issac signaled his men. They surged forward, raising their metal bats, and began smashing Seth's car into oblivion.

Danielle screamed, covering her head as the violence of metal against metal and the shattering of glass echoed in the garage.

Seth stood by, watching impassively. Once the destruction seemed sufficient, Issac ordered a halt. He then stepped forward, addressing Seth, "The lady says the passenger seat is dirty, and she can't use the car anymore. It's as good as junk, so might as well treat it like junk."

At that, Seth looked at Issac, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, "Is that so? Seems wasteful because she'll just have to smash a new one next time."

Issac, uninterested in Seth's quips, merely said, "I'll report back then." With that, he and his men left as abruptly as they had arrived.

In the garage, other drivers watched, horrified.

Danielle, pale and trembling, crouched in the corner, arms wrapped around her head, shaken to the core.

Seth cast a dismissive glance at the mangled wreck of the car, expressionless. He turned on his heel. Seeing Danielle, who was visibly shaken, he said indifferently, “Head upstairs.” With that, he pulled a suitcase from nearby and slid it toward Danielle.

Danielle shivered, cautiously lifting her head to see that the menacing figures had dispersed. Only then did she lower her hands from her head. Her hands, cold and trembling, gripped the suitcase, her voice still quivering with shock. “Aren't you coming up?”

“I have other things to deal with.” Noticing her hesitant and still frightened look, Seth added, “She's just throwing a tantrum with me, and it won't come down on you. Don't be scared, no one's going to hassle you.”

Danielle's grip on the suitcase handle tightened, and tears suddenly filled her eyes. “Sending a mob to smash the car without a word, and that's just her throwing a tantrum? Is she some kind of mafia boss? And you just let her get away with this?”

Seth furrowed his brow, his lips pressed thin, and he walked toward the elevator. Danielle bit her lip and hurried after him. The elevator reached the ground floor, and as the doors slid open, Seth stepped out without a backward glance or a word to Danielle.

Cold and heartless.

People like him, probably never realize the invisible hurt they inflict on others.

Assistant Charlie came to whisk Seth away. “Mr. Diaz, are you sure about going to the gala like this? If something goes wrong midway, how will you explain it to madam? And Ms. Cicely, aren't you going to give her a heads up.”

Seth's gaze was downcast, shrouded in a thin veil of indistinction, his expression unreadable. “She doesn't need to know.”

Charlie chose not to speak further.

No one knew what Seth was truly thinking. How long would it take to fully understand such a detached person?

Shaking his head silently, Charlie slightly sped up the car.

*

Issac returned to the Ellis estate, reporting the outcome of his mission to Cicely.

Cicely was lounging in the conservatory, nibbling on fruits and flipping through a fashion magazine. Issac noted the trimmed branches and leaves beneath the plants – a sign of careful pruning.

Hearing that Issac had completed his task, Cicely showed no surprise. Without even looking up, her voice was slow and indolent. “Did he say anything?”

Issac relayed, “He said it was a waste, because you're just going to keep on smashing.”

Silence fell in the conservatory. After a while, Cicely closed the last page of the magazine, tossing it onto the glass table in front of her. She picked up her phone and dialed a number.

“Audrey's Boutique? This is Cicely. Hold that new Hepburn-inspired dress for me. No event to attend, just fancy it, hate to miss out. uh-huh. I'll come by tomorrow to pick it up.”

Ending the call, she tossed the phone onto the table and turned to Issac, who was still standing there, with a smile. “Then keep smashing. Let's see what brand of car I can smash next time. I hope he doesn't get some cheap car just to appease me.”

Issac was speechless.

Cicely stood up and took a leisurely walk around the conservatory. “Joel brought some Queen of the night from the base. He said he'd give me a couple. Run over to his place and fetch them for me.”

Without hesitation, Issac agreed and left.

“Hold on,” Cicely called out as she approached him with a task in mind, “and help me look into something.”

“What do you need?” Issac asked.

Cicely arched an eyebrow.

*

That evening, Seth was on a video call. The large screen displayed a multi-party conference call. The man at the center of the screen, with his sharp features and unmistakable poise, exuded an air of refined elegance even through the digital interface.

It was he who spoke up in a cool, deep voice, “Need a hand?”

Seth, lounging in his chair, declined without hesitation. “No.”

“Damon, with his stubborn pride, he'll suffer in silence. If I were you, I wouldn't even bother asking,” Kane commented, familiar with Seth's temperament.

Damon's expression remained unaffected, “Some experience is good. Let him see how harsh and real the rules of survival in today's society can be.”

Kane scoffed, “More like he's the one showing others how harsh and cruel life can be, right? With his nasty temper, he's probably dug the pit before anyone could even trip him up.”

The term “sly as a fox” didn't seem to cover Seth. His silent demeanor, amiable one second and deadly the next, was chilling to even think about. Yet his machinations had never truly been witnessed.

Everyone on the call watched Seth, who was nonchalantly accused, but he simply smirked. “One day, you'll get a taste.”

Kane quickly raised his hands in defense, “No thanks, I play things straight. If there's an issue, let's settle it with a good old-fashioned brawl. Aren't you good with your fists?”

“Oh?” Someone on the call showed interest, “How good are we talking?”

Kane was about to share when Seth's phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, Seth excused himself, “If there's nothing else, I'll drop off.”

Picking up his phone, he disconnected the video call.

It was Patty on the line. As soon as he answered, she bombarded him with questions, “What's going on? Danielle told me your car got smashed today?”

Seth's brow furrowed, his tone cool, “It's nothing.”

“Cicely's doing?” Patty's voice was filled with unmasked displeasure and anger.

Seth stood, firm in his response, “It's between her and me. The car can be replaced, I'm fine. Don't bring it up again.”

“What do you mean 'between you two'?!” Patty's voice spiked, “I've never heard of a woman throwing a fit like that, sending goons to wreck a man's car. She's quite the eye-opener. Get back here now.” In the background, Danielle's voice could be faintly heard, trying to calm Patty down.

Seth hung up the call.

A message notification lingered on the screen, sent by Cicely an hour ago. [Don't skimp on the car, Seth. I want to feel a sense of achievement when I smash it.]

Seth's lips twisted into a wry smile, his cool detachment more pronounced than ever.

Leaving the office and sliding into his car, Charlie asked, "Where to, Mr. Seth?"

After a few seconds of silence, Seth said indifferently, "Take me to Audrey's Boutique."

Charlie was somewhat taken aback. This was the first time he had heard Seth mention a place so incongruous with his usual style.

Audrey's Boutique was the epitome of luxury shopping. It was almost exclusively for haute couture and the most prestigious labels. It was where the crème de la crème, the true elites, went to shop.

Charlie fired up the engine, and with a speculative grin, teased, “So, have you figured out how to get back in Ms. Cicely’s good graces?”

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