The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

Chloe furrowed her brow.

Seth's gaze settled on her, his lips quirking in a half-smile. “You should know that | would never harm him.”

Chloe should understand that as the father of the child, he would never bring him harm.

Chloe's eyes flickered, her expression guarded. “Did you ever intend to harm Cicely?”

Seth’s chest shuddered at the accusation.

Chloe didn’t want to pry into past scandals, nor did she wish to meddle in family affairs that were not hers to

tend. But Hugo tethered her to a concern she couldn't ignore.d2

The tales of the past were so vivid that a mere inquiry brought forth a slew of witnesses. Gleaning the gist was

all too easy, especially with Damon, one of the involved parties, right by her side.

Her penetrating gaze and assertive presence were enough to make one feel overpowered. “To cout and to

spend Thanksgiving with Cicely, he’s endured a fever until now, not saying a word for fear that something would

change because he gets sick. Do you know who caused all this?”

Seth’s hands clenched in his pockets, his lips pressed into a thin line, and Chloe could see the tension etched

across his face and body.

But she had to make her point clear; Hugo was just a child.

“You believe you wouldn't harm him, but the damage is already done. How can anyone trust you now, Seth?”

He stood like a bow strung tightly, ready to snap at any moment.

“The deepest wounds in this world are often inflicted by those we love the most. And if there is a deeper pain,

it’s when two people in love turn that love into a war. And that child was born on the battlefield of your struggles.

The harm is done, and for that, neither of you deserves forgiveness. Don’t use your so-called love to hurt them

again. If you can’t manage that, then stay away.” Chloe's voice was cool and stern, imbued with solemn

reproach.

After a long moment, the man who seemed carved from stone finally spoke, his voice a hoarse whisper.”|

won't...”

Won't what?

Won't harm them again?

In a sentence short of ten words, he managed only two.

Chloe's eyes met his, filled with a tumultuous emotion, but she forced herself to look away indifferently. “It's for

the best.”

Damon pulled her into his embrace, casting a cursory glance at Seth. “Chloe is right.”

Seth remained silent.

Long after Damon and Chloe had left, Seth stirred his stiff body, slowly walked to the hospital room door, and

gently placed his hand on the doorknob, followed by a prolonged silence. He hadn't even considered the

possibility that she would have a child with him in the present or the future.

If she wasn’t willing, he would never force her. As long as she was by his side, that was enough.

Cicely had actually borne him a child.

The doorknob creaked under his grip. After a while, with a click, the door to the hospital room opened.

Inside, a nurse stood watch. She stared at him with confusion and caution.

“Sir, may | ask who you are.”

Seth's eyes were fixed on the small figure lying quietly on the large, soft bed. For the first tin his life, Seth

didn’t know how to answer that question.

Who was he...

He lacked the right, and the courage, to utter those words.

Approaching the bed, the moment his gaze touched the child's sleeping face, his heart skipped a beat before

pounding like a drum.

No wonder Cicely had tried so hard to hide him.

No wonder Chloe had been so forthright earlier.

He could never remain oblivious to this child’s existence. Just one look, and the truth was self-evident.

“Are you the child's father?” the nurse asked with a soft smile. “The little one is the spitting image of you.”

Seth remained silent.

So it was.

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He watched Hugo for a long time. The eyebrows and the nose—they were all his.

Reaching out, his hand gently touched Hugo's forehead. The forehead was still feverish, beads of sweat covering

the flushed face. His large, well-defined hand could almost cradle the small face in its entirety.

His son.

His fingertips lightly touched Hugo's furrowed brow, perhaps the coolness soothing the persistent fever, as the

child’s frown gradually eased.

Finally, his hand cto rest on the child's head, watching the peaceful face, Seth's eyes softened with a

tenderness he hadn't realized he possessed.

Seth maintained his position, standing by the bed for a long while. The nurse, having waited patiently, finally

approached to check on the sleeping child, letting out a relieved sigh. “Sir, the child is breaking the fever; | need

to change his sweaty clothes. If you'd...”

Seth's fingers twitched, his gaze locked on the child's face, his voice a deep rasp. “I'll do it.”

The nurse hesitated for a moment, then quickly nodded.

She brought clean clothes and directed Seth as he changed the child. His movements, cautious at first for fear of

disturbing the little one, soon becmore confident. Once he seemed to have it under control, the nurse

fetched a basin of warm water and a towel to wipe the child down. Seth watched for a while, then took the towel

from her, bending down to wipe Hugo's body.

The older nurse watched with a smile, “I've rarely seen a father so hands-on. Usually, it's the grandmothers or

the mothers who do all this.”

And he’s a man of such stature and handsomeness. Indeed, appearances can be deceiving.

Seth was impassive, drying the child's body, then carefully dressing him. During the process, he needed to lift

Hugo to straighten the back of the shirt. In his half-awake state, Hugo let out a whimper against his shoulder.

Seth stiffened, feeling a small hand grasp the collar of his shirt.

“Mama...” The child's sleepy voice echoed in his ear, and that instinctive murmur sent a pang through Seth's

heart.

After settling Hugo back in bed, the child seemed to fall asleep again. But one hand kept gripping his collar,

refusing to let go.

Seth didn’t move, maintaining the awkward and uncomfortable pose.

He didn’t say anything. He couldn't see the child's face, yet he felt the deep helplessness and lack of security

emanating from this little one.

Gently pressing his forehead against Hugo's, Seth's throat tightened. Chloe was right; the harm had already

been done.

*

When Damon returned with Chloe, Seth was waiting at the door.

Upon seeing them, Seth asked. “What's his name?”

Chloe's face was a mask of indifference, but her heart ached at the question coming from his lips. “Hugo.”

Seth's dark eyes shifted slightly downwards, resting on the grout between the tiles, his expression serene and

deep. “Thanks.”

“Seth.” As he turned to leave, Chloe suddenly called out to him.

Seth paused, his back still to her. Before she could speak, he said calmly, “I won't use the kid as a bargaining

chip.”

Chloe indeed remained silent after that.

*

Cicely’s phone battery had died. She had borrowed a charger from Charlie and it was nearly ten o'clock.

It had been over two hours since she had sent Seth away. She didn’t believe he would actually go hto rest

by himself.

Charlie noticed Cicely’s frequent glances towards the window, a clear sign she was waiting for someone. He

offered to help. “Ms. Cicely, should | go look for Mr. Diaz?”

Cicely frowned slightly, her expression distant. “Why would his whereabouts concern me?”

Charlie was speechless, his concern genuine. “Mr. Diaz didn’t tellwhere he was either. I'm not sure what

corner of the hospital he’s holed up in.”

Cicely pursed her lips, her face darkened. “Charlie, everyone knows you're loyal to him. There's no need to

constantly remind me, making him out to be spitiable soul. Do you think he’s the type to seek pity?”

Charlie, caught in his intentions, fell silent.

“Leave, I'm going to sleep.”

Charlie had just cin to prepare swarm milk for Cicely. It was ten o'clock, and he didn’t dare linger.

Meanwhile, Seth was indeed as Charlie described, sitting on a wooden bench in the hospital's garden, his coat

unbuttoned and draped over the bench, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter lay discarded beside him.

His long fingers held a half-smoked cigarette, with a collection of stubs at his feet.

His expression was incredibly calm, his features relaxed, the very picture of tranquility. But upon closer

inspection, the cigarette between his fingers was crushed out of shape, and the ground was littered with similar

remnants.

He smoked one cigarette after another until the pack was empty. He leaned back, crushed the packet, tossed it

aside, and then silence followed.

The deep chill of late October numbed to the bone. The darkness was filled with a heavy silence.

By the the returned to Cicely’s room, she was lying quietly on the bed. He approached, gazing down at her

delicate and peaceful face with a tranquil expression.

Asleep, she seemed a different person. All her pride, sarcasm, indifference, carelessness, intense hatred, and

reckless love were all hidden behind her closed eyes.

Cicely’s brows furrowed slightly, and Seth stepped back, but she opened her eyes anyway.

She stared at him, her gaze cold and dismissive. “The smell of cigarette on you is disgusting.” Her voice was cool

and detached, not at all like someone rudely awakened from sleep.

“Sorry.” Seth apologized in a low, husky voice, then quickly entered the bathroom.

Cicely lay still, lost in her thoughts.

Seth showered and returned. Cicely hadn’t moved. He climbed into bed beside her, his movements gentle, not

pulling her into his arms as he had before.

Cicely braced herself for his embrace, but minutes passed with no such move. She didn’t remember falling

asleep, but when she awoke, Seth was already dressing.

Concerned about her grandfather's surgery, her sleep had been restless.

After freshening up, Cicely found Charlie had set up breakfast. She was a little pale and distracted by her

concern for her grandfather's surgery. Seth called her to breakfast with a detached tone. She didn’t refuse.

After breakfast, she powered on her phone, which had been charging overnight. There were several missed calls

from Chloe.

Panic struck her, as she thought of Hugo. She wanted to return the calls, but seeing Seth, she hesitated, then

pocketed her phone.

Seth continued his meal, his face impassive.

After a morning of tests and waiting for results, the surgery was scheduled for the afternoon.

Cicely spent the morning by her grandfather's side, silent, watching the old man’s gaunt and weary face, her

emotions swirling.

She remained quiet as she accompanied him to the operating room, her slender figure and anxious expression

making her seem even more fragile.

Seth wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It'll be okay. The surgeon is very experienced.”

Cicely felt weak with nervousness, her body cold. The carefree facade from last night crumbled in the face of

today’s challenge.

She had only her grandfather left. She hadn't been by his side for three years. If something went wrong with the

surgery, she would never forgive herself.

Danielle approached, escorted by bodyguards, her arms crossed. She wore a sterile suit, her expression calm yet

pale.

Seeing Cicely in Seth’s embrace at the operating room door, Danielle stopped, a hint of a smile on her lips.

Cicely straightened up, stepping out of Seth’s arms. “If you don’t want to, I'll do it.”

Danielle’s sarcasm was evident. “Then go ahead.”

Before Cicely could move, the hand on her shoulder pressed down with more force. “Cicely, | said no,” Seth's

voice was low and authoritative, brooking no argument.

Danielle glanced coldly at him, then suddenly laughed, her face pale, her eyes red. “So after three years of

playing along, you can’t even pretend anymore for this one last time?”

Seth didn’t look at her, instead focusing on two tall men in sterile suits at the operating room door. “Take her in.”

Danielle's eyes flickered at the sight of these men.

These were men she had not encountered before. Clearly, Seth’s worry for her was so profound that he

deliberately arranged for them to be present during the surgery to keep an eye on her.

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Huh.

The epitof imagining her malice, in all its breadth and depth.

A tide of despair and biting irony swept through her, the more he guarded against her, the clearer it becto

her.

How contemptible she must be in his heart.

She should have known this from three years ago, but had deluded herself, easily falling for his lies.

The surgery was lengthy. Balancing the removal of blood with the transfusion of fresh blood, the intricate

numbers allowed for no errors.

Cicely’s hands and feet remained icy, even as Seth clasped them tightly, only managing to squeeze out a

palmful of cold sweat.

She refused to sit down, standing guard at the door of the operating room, mustering her last bit of strength, her

heart pausing for half-seconds at a tbefore resuming its frantic pace.

Anxiety, disarray, helplessness, tension...

The operation lasted over four hours. When the doors of the OR finally swung open and the doctor announced

“The surgery was a success,” Cicely’s body nearly collapsed.

Seth, who had been rigid with tension, relaxed slightly, quickly catching Cicely, cradling her and gently patting

her head with his deep, soothing voice. “It's okay now.”

Cicely nodded through her tears, nodding incessantly. God knows what she had been worrying about.

She was afraid that her grandfather wouldn't make it through, and Danielle might lash out unexpectedly.

Thankfully, it was a success.

Danielle was wheeled out first, unconscious from the anesthesia-free blood transfusion and the excessive blood

loss, her complexion as pale as a ghost, even her lips devoid of color.

Cicely glanced at her, then Seth led her aside.

Erik was also wheeled out.

*

Hugo's fever broke late at night, and he was discharged the next day.

When Damon received the news immediately that Erik's surgery was successful, everyone at hbreathed a

sigh of relief. Alyssa clutched her chest, overwhelmed with relief. “He has pulled through again.”

Hugo sat quietly on the couch, leaning against Chloe, holding a slice of apple pie, his dark eyes blankly fixed

ahead.

After a high fever the night before and a morning spent sleeping, he ate lunch and played with Anya for a bit.

When Anya went for her nap, he refused to sleep again.

Since noon, he had felt that something was off at home. Chloe spoke very little, and when she did, she seemed

distracted, as if preoccupied. Damon's attempts to cheer her up seemed futile, and grandma'’s sighs filled the air

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Now, the atmosphere had suddenly changed, and even though he didn’t know what had happened, he smiled

along happily.

“Ms. Chloe, is there something that’s made everyone really happy?”

Chloe reached out and stroked Hugo's little head, her voice thick with tenderness. “Yes, very happy.”

Hugo's eyes suddenly sparkled, “Can you tell me? So when mom comes back, | can tell her, and make mom

happy too.”

Chloe felt an unexpected surge of emotion, her face flushing with the effort to hold back tears. A two-year-old

child, at an age when innocence should prevail, showed a sensitivity that was heart-wrenching.

Alyssa couldn’t hold back either. “This child really knows how to touch people’s hearts.”

“Madam.” Hannah, feeling helpless, quickly handed a tissue to Alyssa.

Alyssa dabbed her eyes and, looking at the apple pie in Hugo's hands, she changed the subject.

“Hugo, eat your pie, don’t you like it?”

Hugo shook his head, “I like it. I'll wait to eat it with mom.”

Alyssa paused for a moment, then quickly covered her eyes with the tissue.

Chloe hugged Hugo close, “There's plenty more. You can have snow.”

Hugo stubbornly shook his head.