The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride - Chapter 1987

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As Danielle hurried away from the ballroom, a group of people approached from the opposite
direction. She froze in her tracks, her face betraying a flurry of panic.

The gala was a major event, attended by several renowned industry authorities and media outlets.
With the script auction being the highlight, the presence of the press was crucial to generate buzz
for the fans and future consumers. In such hype-driven events, entertainment reporters were never
far behind.

Danielle, flustered, quickly tried to smooth out her dress and tidy her disheveled hair. She shifted to
the side, hoping to inconspicuously make way for the approaching group, pretending that nothing
had happened.

"Are you sure about what you said? You didn't see it wrong?" Leading the pack was a young man
dressed as a waiter, followed by a posse of journalists who were questioning him excitedly.

The waiter wore an expression of mild distress but confirmed, "No mistake, I saw the woman who's
been shadowing Mr. Ray all evening helping him leave. The gentleman who came with that lady is
now looking for her. I just noticed Mr. Ray seemed off tonight; let's hope nothing serious has
happened."

As they drew nearer, Danielle heard the waiter's words and her face turned even paler. She lowered
her head, attempting to blend into the background. However, the waiter caught sight of her first, his
expression shifting momentarily before furrowing his brow. Had the plan not succeeded? Or had he
arrived too late to prevent it?d2

"Miss, are you alright?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Recognizing she'd been identified, Danielle shook her head, her gaze flickering away, "No, nothing's
wrong. Did something happen?"

The waiter's face flashed a barely noticeable frustration before he replied, "Nothing, just that the
gentleman who accompanied you has been looking for you. I happened to see you assisting Mr.
Ray to leave and was worried something might have happened."

Danielle, her mind a whirlwind of panic, barely registered the waiter's porous explanation. Instead,
she muttered a thanks and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trying to sound calm, "I'm
fine, thanks."

"That's good then," the waiter said as Seth's figure appeared at the entrance.

Spotting Danielle's silhouette from behind, Seth’s gaze briefly intersected with the waiter's for a
fleeting second. In that one moment, Seth's expression darkened. He had failed.

All the reporters who had sniffed out something fishy were thoroughly disappointed.

Danielle turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes instantly brimming with tears. "Seth,"
she called out, staggering into his embrace.

The journalists who had been about to leave stopped in their tracks at the sight.

Seth's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he gently pushed Danielle away, stepping back with an air
of detachment. Looking down at her, he asked softly, "What's wrong? Who upset you?"

If there had been no scandal caught in the act, now was still a chance to salvage the situation.

Danielle hesitated, then averted her gaze. "Nothing, it's nothing."

A chill flickered through Seth's eyes, gone in an instant. "Since you're alright, let's head back to the
ballroom. You must be looking forward to the rest of the script auction."

But Danielle shook her head, "No need, the auction doesn't concern me. Seth, I'm feeling unwell.
Let's go home."

Seth studied her for a moment before nodding, "Alright, let's leave."

Relieved, Danielle quickly latched onto Seth's arm. As they passed the hotel lobby, she glanced
down the hallway, biting her lip, her grasp on Seth's arm tightening.

"What is it?" Seth asked, turning to look at her.

"Nothing," Danielle said with a forced smile.

Her actions had derailed the entire plan, but using her from the beginning was Seth's mistake. He
had to patiently stick with her through the evening, despite his failure.

Danielle cast her gaze downward, her heart pounding wildly with the consequences of her decision.
Emotions of shame, self-reproach, and fear swirled within her.

Should the Ellis family learn that she had intentionally abandoned Cicely and deliberately withheld
information, they would possibly detest her. Yet, in the original moment, the raw desire to utterly ruin
Cicely far outweighed this fear.

The Ellis family wouldn't actually kill her, but Cicely would be ruined for life. The scandal would
tarnish the reputation of P City's princess, leading to people blaming her. More importantly, Seth
would never want her again. Even if he were willing, given Cicely's character, she would never
reconcile with him.

While she didn't care much for the title and status being Miss Ellis in P City, having it wasn't a bad
thing either. She had been overshadowed by Cicely for years, and she had had enough.

Furthermore, she simply chose not to rescue Cicely when she had the choice. They had always
been at odds with each other, and she felt no obligation to save her.

As long as Cicely was completely disgraced...

Her thoughts were cut short by a hurried figure rushing through the door, nearly colliding with her.

"Sorry," the person mumbled, stepping aside before Seth grabbed his arm. "Issac."

The man snapped to attention, frowning at Seth.

"Cicely? Where is she?" Seth asked.

Issac pulled his arm away coldly. "I'm looking for her," he said and headed for the front desk.

Danielle's anxiety intensified. "Seth, let's go," she urged.

But Seth remained still, his gaze lingering on Danielle for a long moment before he released her
hand and walked back into the hall.

Danielle swayed unsteadily, unsure of what to do next.

Issac asked the receptionist, "Have you seen a woman resting in the lounge area?"

The receptionist looked unnaturally flustered, eyes darting toward Danielle at the entrance before
hesitantly replying, "I did notice her heading that way a while ago."

She cautiously nodded towards the hallway where the argument had erupted, her voice barely
above a whisper, "After that, she never came out again."

At her words, Issac's expression darkened abruptly. He spun on his heel and strode towards the
hallway. Just a few steps in, he spotted a high heel shoe by a door.

Seth, who had always been aloof and impassive, had his usually unreadable face twist in an instant
upon seeing the shoe. His eyes suddenly narrowed further.

As Issac bent to pick up the shoe, Seth reached the door and without hesitation, kicked the heavy
wooden barrier open.

The stench of spilled liquor assaulted them. The room was in shambles. Not a single thing—a wine
rack, a mini-fridge, the TV stand, the couch—was in its rightful place. The bed was in disarray, the
white bedding smeared with bright red stains.

Seth's gaze finally landed on the bathroom door. Ray, with blood dripping from his head, leaned
against the door frame, glaring at him resentfully. "Who let you in? Get out, you're ruining my fun!"

Seth moved swiftly, hauling Ray up with one hand. "What fun are you referring to?"

"Obviously the bitch inside! Feisty one, I swear I'll make her beg."

That vulgar phrase was like a match to a fuse, blowing Seth's cool demeanor to bits. He slammed
Ray against the bathroom door. With one punch, Ray's body collapsed. The frosted tempered glass
shattered under the force, Ray howling beneath it.

People rushed in at the commotion, falling silent at the scene, the hallway and room plunged into
sudden quiet.

Cicely stood in the corner of the bathroom, arms wrapped around herself, her dress wrinkled and
stained with blood and wine. Her once neatly styled hair was now a tangled mess, half-covering her
pale face. Fear was etched onto her features as she stared blankly at Seth.

He stood rooted in place, noticing the unfamiliar fear in her eyes, and slowly approached. Her fear
of him was evident.

Cicely did indeed shrink back as he drew near, retreating until she was pressed against the wall and
could go no further. She'd never seen this side of Seth.

She had seen the cultured, detached, stoic, and cool-headed side of him, but she had never seen
this raw, ferocious, brutal side of him.

"Don't be afraid," his voice was a hoarse vibration, resonating in the silent room.

Cicely blinked, watching as he brushed aside the hair from her face, his palm warm against her
cheek and ear.

"Did he hurt you, hmm?"

There was a pause. Cicely glanced at the onlookers outside, their phones raised for pictures. "I’m
supposed to get hurt, aren’t I?"

Seth's hand paused, his grip tightening slightly.

She brushed his hand away, "Do I look okay?" Her eyes dropped to Ray, who lay groaning on the
ground, voice clear and sharp, "He tried to force himself on me."

The gravity of her words silenced the room before it erupted into whispers, cameras and phones
capturing the scene.

Seth turned away from the door, his voice calm, "Issac, take her out of here."

Issac, recovering from shock, stepped towards Cicely. Glass littered the floor, but Issac didn't
hesitate to scoop Cicely's bare feet up into his arms.

Seth's eyes narrowed, giving them room to pass. The crowd parted, making way.

As Issac reached the door with Cicely in his arms, they encountered Danielle, rooted to the spot in
the corridor.

Issac, confused but recognizing the authority in her voice, gently set her onto the carpeted floor.

Danielle stood pallid against the wall. Despite Cicely's disheveled state, she maintained her haughty
posture.

Cicely stopped beside her, their silence speaking volumes. Danielle's gaze wavered, "I'm sorry."

Cicely's hands flew up, and two sharp slaps rang out, drawing eyes from the corridor.

Danielle's cheeks flared with pain from Cicely's blows, but this time, there was no retaliation, no
disgust, no anger in Danielle's eyes.

"If you had the guts to do it then, don't be a coward and apologize now," Cicely's voice was cold, "I
want to slap myself for choosing to save you. Should've minded my own business instead of nearly
getting caught up in your mess."

Danielle couldn't stand tall before Cicely today. She was in the wrong, speechless in defense.

Isaac stood nearby, listening, seemingly understanding something. There was a hint of sharpness in
his gaze as he looked at Danielle.

Then, a drawn-out scream pierced the silence from the room behind them. It was Ray's voice.

Cicely's expression froze momentarily, her lips pressed tightly together, but Ray's cries continued
one after another, piercing Cicely's eardrums. Her body trembled slightly, and the hands clasped in
front of her involuntarily tightened into fists.

Issac, sensing her distress, whispered, "Miss, let's get out of here."

Someone in the crowd murmured, "He's going to kill him."

The words made Cicely's already pale face shift with emotion. Security was rushing towards the
commotion. "Enough, Seth," she called out, her voice a growl.

Behind her, the sounds of the scuffle ceased as if a switch had been flipped. Seth emerged from the
room, his face a mask of cold fury, the violence in his eyes causing onlookers to scatter.

He straightened his wrinkled suit, fixed his tie, buttoned up, and smoothed his sleeves as he walked
over to Cicely. The viciousness that had enveloped him was now visibly restrained.

Despite everything, he noticed Cicely's lashes flutter slightly, her body shifting almost
subconsciously to the side.

His eyes darkened. Then he turned his gaze to Danielle's face. "So, you knew all along she was in
Ray's room, didn't you?"

Danielle's frame jolted, even the freshly slapped redness on her cheeks now drained of all color. "I...
I didn't know."

She had been making a desperate gamble.

If Cicely were to be ruined, she felt that enduring Seth's wrath would be worth it. But now, she didn't
know what to do. Just the thought of his expression a moment ago sent shivers down her spine.

Cicely, observing Danielle's state, let out a cold laugh and turned to look at Isaac. "Let's go home."

Isaac bent down, intending to lift her into his arms, but a hand barred his way.

Seth's voice followed, still cold but now tense and husky. "I'll do it."