The Enticing CEO's Chosen Bride novel Chapter 1812

The door creaked open, and all eyes turned to the source of the unexpected knock.

"Excuse me, is this Mr. Morrison's residence?" A woman's voice floated in tentatively.

Amid the hush of the room, the woman at the threshold hesitated, her gaze finally settling on the cluster of people inside. She seemed taken aback by the crowd, her eyes betraying a flicker of surprise.

Mona.

At the sight of Mona, a chill swept through Rose's heart, colder than anything she'd felt before. Even with the recent vows they had exchanged, Morrison's indifference toward her had never stung as sharply as it did now.

Of all the times, of all the places, Mona should not have appeared here, in the home she shared with Morrison.d2

Morrison's brow furrowed at the sight of Mona. His tone, though still strained, was noticeably softer than before.

"What brings you here?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of restraint.

Caught in an awkward moment, Mona stepped inside, hesitating. "I heard you were ill and hospitalized last night, and when I went to the hospital today, they said you had been discharged. So... I came to see how you were doing. I was worried..."

Rose stood firm, refusing to show weakness before Mona. Her pride wouldn't allow it. She might accept defeat in her private moments, but she would never let Mona see her crumble.

How did Mona know where she and Morrison lived? Unless... Morrison had told her. But why would he? They had never discussed their home address in such detail.

Trying to keep her composure, Rose closed her eyes briefly, convincing herself that Morrison had no reason to share such information with Mona. Winston, who'd been quietly observing, let out a derisive snort, pulling Rose back to the painful reality.

All her anger at Morrison, all her feelings for him seemed to wither in that instant. What was she holding on to?

Mona had a stronghold in Morrison's heart—Rose knew that. She had told herself to try, to persist, to love Morrison more openly, believing that her earnest affections would eventually yield even the smallest of reciprocations.

For a moment, she had thought they were on the right track. Living under the same roof, they could be like any other couple—a world of their own, intimate and unguarded.

But then Morrison had casually insinuated something unspeakable between her and Winston. How could she not care? How could she not feel reduced to nothing?

Would he have said such things if Mona were in her place? Rose doubted it.

She took a deep breath and, as she exhaled, her eyes met Morrison's—empty, devoid of sorrow, joy, or anger, and yet brimming with indescribable emotions.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Winston's hand found hers. "You need to calm down. Come with me."

Confused, she looked at him, but Winston was already guiding her towards the door.

Morrison's eyes darkened, his hand reaching out for Rose, but Winston intercepted.

"Once you've sorted out your issues, we can talk about Rose," Winston said pointedly. "Remember what I said earlier... it's important."

If Morrison hurt her, if she regretted her choices, Winston would be the first to take her away.

Morrison hesitated, but his possessiveness wouldn't allow Winston to just whisk Rose away. "You want to leave? Fine, but you go alone!"

It was then that the elderly Mrs. Morrison intervened, "Mr. Winston, please take Rose out of here. We have some matters to resolve."

Despite the concern Winston's words had stirred in her, Mrs. Morrison preferred that Rose find solace with him if Morrison couldn't settle things with Mona. No woman could tolerate her beloved entangled with another.

If Morrison couldn't clear the air, then letting go was the only option. No one should settle for less.

Morrison's gaze never left Rose as he spoke her name—a stern warning in just a word. The implication was clear: leaving with Winston could lead to unforeseen consequences.

But Rose was past caring about playing the dutiful hostess to an unwelcome guest. Her heart wasn't big enough for that yet.

Without a word, she shrugged off Winston's hand and said softly, "I need some air."

As she passed Mona, the other woman's worried gaze met hers. "Rose, is something wrong?"

Rose mustered a half-hearted smile. "Make yourself at home."

The simple phrase carried an unintended weight, hinting at a future where it might take on a different meaning.

With that, Rose grabbed her coat and stepped out into the crisp air, closing the door behind her. The sight of her retreating figure gave off an eerie sense of finality, as if she was walking away from more than just the house.

Morrison felt a tightness in his chest as he was about to step forward and follow, but Mona suddenly spoke up, “Morrison… are you okay, health-wise?”

The step he was taking halted, and his gaze, which had been fixed on the door, shifted to Mona.

His expression didn’t lighten, “I’m fine. How did you find your way here?”

Winston let out a low, mocking chuckle, “I’ve got other fish to fry, I’ll be off.”

Morrison’s gaze shot towards him, but Winston just flashed him a grin, “You seem to have your hands full right now, probably can't look after everyone.”

It was a matter of priorities now.

The irony of his words was crystal clear to Megan and Molly.

Juggling two women at once, did he think he had the ability to clone himself, or perhaps he fancied himself to have the powers of some mythic hero with multiple arms?

It was a choice of sacrifice and gain; let go of one to hold onto another, that was the inevitable outcome.

Winston left without a moment's hesitation.