The Enticing CEO's Chosen Bride novel Chapter 1790

Rose cast a casual glance, promptly followed by a surprised second look at the man striding her way. She frowned as she watched him approach.

"What brings you here?"

Just what was Morrison thinking? He was never around when she needed him, yet here he was, showing up uninvited when he was least needed.

Her words seemed to darken his mood even more. Nevertheless, he walked straight up to her, pulled out a chair beside her, and sat down without any hesitation.

Rose and Winston both fell silent.

The door swung open again, revealing the waiter carrying her second bowl of soup.d2

The server, slightly puzzled by the sudden appearance of a third person, placed the soup next to Rose, and fetched a new set of cutlery for Morrison, then she left with a bewildered look on his face.

Just what was going on? This wasn't what she'd expected at all.

She took one last glance at the booth before closing the door, just in time to see Mr. Morrison helping himself to her freshly served rice.

Well, it seemed that everything she'd read on the Internet was obviously wrong.

Rose watched as her soup was devoured by someone else, her expression growing colder.

She grabbed the bowl from in front of Morrison. “This is mine.”

Morrison shot her a sideways glance before saying, “I’m hungry.”

Rose scoffed, “Were you too busy trying to be the perfect gentleman in front of Mona to eat?”

Morrison watched as she ate, his lips twitching almost imperceptibly, “Of course. How could I let others see my true self? Some things are meant to be seen by special people only.”

Rose nearly choked on her second sip. She clutched her chest, intending to retort as her choking grew worse.

Morrison picked up the glass next to him, turned towards her, patted her back, and handed her the glass, his hand never leaving her back.

Rose took the glass from his hand and gulped down a couple of mouthfuls, oblivious to his comforting pats on her back.

Morrison was acting like the perfect, loyal boyfriend. However, Rose didn’t notice this. After calming down, she turned to look at Morrison. “Morrison, what on earth is going on with you?”

How could he possibly be saying these things?! Was he really Morrison?

Morrison's face darkened. He placed the glass on the table, but his hand didn't leave her back. Instead, he rubbed and rested it on her shoulder.

Rose frowned. What happened to him?

She turned to look at him, but he just gave her a smile, gesturing towards her bowl, “Are you still eating?”

How was she supposed to eat while being held like this?

“What on earth are you up to?” She looked at him with a puzzled frown, her expression full of suspicion and resistance.

A hidden anger burned within Morrison, especially when he saw her expression. It was like someone had poured a bucket of oil onto the fire suppressed within him, and the restrained flames burst forth all at once. He stayed composed, the hand resting on her shoulder slightly increased its grip. “If you’re done, I will finish it for you.”

With that, he picked up her partially drunk soup, and nonchalantly took a sip.

Rose looked up at Winston who was sitting across the table. It seemed like she was asking him what was going on with Morrison.

Winston shrugged, indicating he had no clue. Yet, his smile was somewhat unsettling.

Suddenly, her shoulder started to hurt. Rose winced. At that moment, Morrison looked up, with a faint smile on his face as he said to Winston, “So, why has Mr. Winston made the journey all the way here?”

Winston raised an eyebrow, picked up his fork, and tossed a mouthful of food into his mouth, “An old friend invited me. I couldn't refuse.”

“Old friend?” Morrison smirked.

“Of course. Maybe Mr. Morrison doesn't know that Rose and I are childhood friends. We haven't seen each other for years, and now we're working together again. It's quite a coincidence.”

Rose’s eyes widened at Winston’s words. Had they all gone mad today? Childhood friends? She had only seen him a few times when they were kids.

Realizing the hand on her shoulder was pressing harder, Rose winced, her face paling slightly. The pressure on her shoulder eased considerably.

His words were so ambiguous, it was as if he was trying to stir up trouble.

Morrison nodded, “I see. That’s quite fortunate. Since you're an old friend of my wife, I should give you due respect. If you ever need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask.”

Rose had given up on trying to escape, resigning herself to the fact that these two men were going to continue their fake pleasantries.

Winston: “That's very kind. I'll be sure to take you up on that offer.”

Morrison paused, “How long are you planning to stay here?”

“Not sure, but at least a month.”

Morrison’s face visibly darkened. Winston smirked and took a sip of water.

Eventually, Morrison finished Rose's soup. As they all stood to leave, Morrison was the first to pull out Rose's chair.

Rose looked at him, walked out of the booth, and immediately felt his arm around her waist. She paused, looking down at his arm around her waist, her heart fluttered. Her earlier confusion and resistance had turned into a kind of acceptance.

This was what she wanted. Even though his sudden change in behavior puzzled her, she wished it was all real.

However, just as she was becoming comfortable with this pleasant situation, the moment the booth door opened, her joy and warmth were instantly doused.

“Winston, it really is Winston.”

“Winston is really with Mrs. Witt.”

“It's really…”

A group of reporters surrounded them, cameras flashing incessantly. Their tone was one of vindication. Clearly, someone knew she and Winston were having meals together.

Rose was standing still, held in the embrace of Morrison, her husband. A wry smile played on her lips. However, when facing the reporters, she assumed an air of nonchalance, her smile radiant and captivating.