Santino's apartment was spacious. By the time they arrived, the assistant had already finished shopping and returned. Along with assistants of other actors, they were busy preparing two pots of food. One pot for the assistants, another for the crew.

The atmosphere was cordial, filled with laughter and the occasional line from a script playfully exchanged.

Cicely, however, seemed out of place.

Santino played the gracious host to a tee, cheerfully helping the assistants set up the plates and dipping sauces.

"Any dietary restrictions? Onions, garlic, chili peppers, anything?" he asked, passing a plate to Cicely in a relaxed manner.d2

After a brief "Thank you," Cicely continued, "I don't eat onions, garlic, or chili peppers."

A few odd looks were cast her way, but Santino just shrugged it off with a smile. "You can mix your own dipping sauce to taste. Although a hot stew without a kick is missing a bit of its soul, don't you think?" Cicely forced a smile and stayed quiet.

Santino, though, had a knack for easing any tension, and soon enough, everyone seemed to relax.

Even Cicely, who was slow to warm up to the group, seemed far more at ease by the time they were halfway through their meal.

His liquor cabinet was well-stocked, and since no one had early calls the next day, someone suggested they indulge. Soon enough, glasses were clinking.

They chatted about scripts, industry gossip, promising projects, and the future of the biz-especially which companies were the best bets for hitching one's wagon. C&P was brought up often, but Cicely hardly reacted.

The food wasn't anything to write home about, but the company made up for it.

They dined from seven until nine, and as the assistants finished up, they joined in the revelry, partly to ensure no one said anything out of turn after a few drinks that could brew trouble later. But there were no slip-ups.

While Cicely was caught up in the lively scene, Seth had already made rounds in his car to the Ellis family's place, their apartment, even the cafe and bakery she frequented. After numerous unanswered calls to both Cicely and Emiliana, he turned the car around in frustration, heading straight for Emiliana's set.

He hadn't started there because he'd heard someone spotted Cicely leaving with Emiliana around six. Plus, she'd driven herself to the set that day.

Because Cicely had treated the entire crew to coffee and sweets, everyone had a deep impression of her.

He confirmed with Issac that Cicely had indeed driven herself. The snow was still falling, and while the city had taken precautions and the radio constantly warned drivers to be cautious, the thought of Cicely, who rarely drove, out there on her own made Seth's expression darken.

Emiliana's phone, mostly a gaming device during shoots, was left on airplane mode in her bag once it ran low on battery.

Seth, trudging through the snow, arrived at the film crew. Most of the people on set had already left, leaving a few behind to guard props and equipment. Other than having seen Cicely, they didn't remember much else.

Seth lit a cigarette outside the deserted set, the smoke mingling with the overcast sky as if to mirror his mounting frustrations.

He thought he knew Cicely well enough, not because he was particularly concerned about her, but because her life was so simple.

The places she could go were limited, and she barely had what could be called friends, with Emiliana being the only one. She knew the scions and misses of the major wealthy families in P City, but their relationships were superficial. Even if something were to happen, she wouldn't really approach them.

Firstly, their relationship hadn't reached that level, and secondly, because the proud little princess Cicely from P City wouldn't easily let others see her as a joke.

Having scoured every possible place without a trace of her, Seth was at a loss.

Then a car's headlights swept past, and Issac stepped out, his gaze immediately locating Cicely's car. It was a relief to find it, yet Seth, watching Issac's movements, didn't share in the reassurance. Seth's phone rang, breaking the silence. Flicking his half-smoked cigarette into the snow, Seth answered.

It was Shane, apologetic.

"Mr. Diaz, I've managed to reach Emiliana's assistant."

When Emiliana's assistant remembered the charging phone and saw the barrage of missed calls from the agent, their legs turned to jelly. The ensuing call was a verbal lashing that left them trembling. Cicely sat in a corner, clearly having overindulged, her eyes bleary with intoxication.

Santino rose, approaching Emiliana. "Ms. Cicely's had a bit too much. Let's get her to a room to rest."

Emiliana nodded, struggling to help Cicely stand. Santino intervened softly. "I'll carry her. Just stay by my side."

He scooped Cicely up and headed to the guest room they had chosen earlier. To avoid any impropriety, Emiliana followed closely behind.

Cicely, not used to the bed, frowned in her sleep. Her coat was shed at the door, revealing the hem of her woolen sweater riding up to expose a sliver of her pale waist.

Santino averted his gaze as Emiliana quickly covered Cicely with a blanket.

"Thank you for tonight," Emiliana said, "for putting up with all of us. I hope we haven't been too much trouble."

Santino shook his head with a smile. "No trouble at all. It's nice to have some company. Beats being alone, any day."

"Well, that's good to hear."

They stepped out of the room, only to be met by a knock on the door. Emiliana's assistant trembled once more, sensing the night was far from over. Santino's assistant scurried to the door, only to be met with two men standing there like winter's chill personified, their faces clouded with gloom. "Who are you looking for?"

Issac was the first to break the silence, "Excuse me, could you tell us if Ms. Cicely is here?"

The assistant hesitated, then nodded, "She had a bit too much to drink, and Santino, uh, Santino carried her to a room to rest up."

That one sentence was enough to darken Seth's expression even more. His jaw clenched tight, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Where is she?"

His voice was colder than the air outside, making the assistant feel as if frost was forming in the air between them.

Santino approached, his demeanor polite, "Can I help you gentlemen?"

The assistant, still rattled by Seth's presence, managed, "They're here for Ms. Cicely."

"Well, Ms. Cicely had a bit too much and has just gone to bed."

Without another word, Seth strode past them, his handsome, impassive face barely containing his rage.

"Where is she?" he demanded again.

Emiliana, recognizing Seth, hurried over, "Right here, right this way."

Seth's gaze flickered towards her, and he moved straight for the room Emiliana pointed to.

The bed indeed betrayed a human shape beneath the sheets.

The woman he had braved a night's snowstorm to find was lying there, frowning in her sleep, cheeks flushed with the remnants of drunkenness, even with her eyes closed. Another man had brought her here.

"Get her clothes," Seth commanded, to no one in particular. Emiliana quickly complied.

Seth pulled back the covers and wrapped Cicely in a coat, lifting her effortlessly.

Cicely, already uncomfortable, found the embrace only added to her discomfort. The arms were cold, yet familiar. Barely able to open her eyes, she recognized the man she expected, frowning deeply before closing them again.

She didn't know why he was here, but his determination to take her home was clear.

Too tired to argue, she let it be.

Issac watched as Seth carried Cicely out. His brow twitched, but he said nothing, simply followed and even opened the car door for him.

Despite his own feelings, Seth was Cicely's husband, and Issac had no right to interject or take her from his arms.

Once in the car, Seth called Shane, instructing him to prepare a hangover remedy and send it to his apartment.

Back home, Seth carried Cicely straight to the bathroom.

After a quick shower together, he laid her on the bed.

Cicely's drunken fog had lifted somewhat, but she was still uncomfortable. She crawled under the covers, turning her back to Seth, and closed her eyes. "Get up and drink this hangover remedy," Seth said firmly.

Cicely didn't move.

"Cicely," his tone now carried a warning.

Silence.

Without another word, Seth stood by the bed, his gaze fixed coldly on her back.

The room fell quiet, his presence and unyielding stare made the air feel even thinner.

Finally, Cicely sat up irritably, took the cup from him, and downed the remedy. Then, she snuggled back into the covers.

"I feel terrible. Can we just sleep now?"

Her words were sharp, tinged with exhaustion and annoyance.

Despite wanting to say so much, Seth knew tonight was not the time. He climbed into bed and pulled the woman facing away back towards him, into his embrace. Cicely placed her hands on his chest, her brow furrowed, her fingers curling slightly. After a pause, she relaxed, silent and still.

She fell asleep quickly.

Seth watched her peaceful face, his frustration growing.

She was so carefree.

The next morning, Cicely woke with a headache that made her whimper softly.

Seth emerged from the bathroom, his eyes fixed on her the moment he heard her.

"Headache?"

Cicely rubbed her forehead and whimpered again, sinking back into the covers.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

The sound of rustling clothes followed his casual inquiry.

Cicely murmured an affirmative.

"Did you like driving yourself?"

Another murmur.

Then, silence.

Finally, Seth spoke again.

"Why was your phone off?"

After a pause, Cicely's soft voice answered, "It died."

"Issac and I searched for you all night. Issac even checked the entire car accident records of the P City from last night."

"I'm right here, safe and sound. What's your point in bringing this up?"

Cicely had anticipated this confrontation since the previous night. His questions were starting to annoy her.

"My phone was off, I drove the car, and I will again. I wasn't in an accident. Last night, I had dinner with friends; we had a good time and drank a bit. Surely you're not so controlling that you'd deny me my own social space? What more do you want to hear? Should I apologize for these things?"

A dark shadow passed over Seth's eyes, "A good time and a bit of drink, then ending up in another man's bed in his house, is that part of your 'social space' too?"

Cicely frowned, "I was drunk, but I knew it was a guest room."

"Does being a guest room make it any less his house, his bed?"

Cicely, exasperated, laughed bitterly, sitting up to face the man standing before her.

"What's this all about, Seth? Are you jealous, or do you think I'm so easy, ready to jump into bed with anyone I meet? There were others staying in that house last night. What do you think, in your eyes, was it an orgy?"

Seth's gaze narrowed dangerously, "You're right; you should have your own freedom. If you think it's perfectly fine to disappear without a word and not come home all night, and that I'm being unreasonable for asking about it, then from now on, I can also choose to ignore such matters. You do as you please, as long as you're happy."

Cicely suddenly felt a sharp pang in her chest, her grip on the comforter weakening as if all her strength had been siphoned away in an instant.

"If you think the kind of freedom you're giving me looks like this, then fine, do as you please. And for the record, I haven't been out all night."

"You think you would've just waltzed back on your own if I hadn't come for you?"

"Come for me?" Cicely's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "I haven't been hiding or running. My life is as dull as dishwater; where I could go and who I could be with are limited, to say the least. Since when has Charlie's efficiency plummeted to such depths that it took you hours to find me, almost causing me to be a no-show for the night?"

Seth's gaze tightened, and Cicely almost immediately let out a mocking laugh.

"Well, I almost forgot. You're not surrounded by the seasoned, highly capable Charlie anymore. Instead, you've got a greenhorn assistant who's barely cut his teeth. The fact that he found me at all is nothing short of a miracle. Lucky for me, I didn't run into any trouble. Otherwise, by the time he got to me, all he'd find would be my cold, lifeless body."

"I'm really curious," she continued, her tone edged with frost. "What kind of monumental task have you assigned Charlie that you could spare him during the busiest time of the year?"

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