The Enticing CEO's Chosen Bride novel Chapter 1881

Though they had seen much of life's harsh realities, the children at the local orphanage couldn't fathom the depths of darkness that might dwell in the heart of a seven-year-old girl who had just lost her parents.

Serana kept to herself, a solitary figure in the corner, quiet and well-behaved in class, and equally so during recess, watching the others play with an expressionless demeanor, like a still pond devoid of life.

Perhaps they sensed a kindred spirit in her, or maybe it was pity, or a thick slather of curiosity, but from that point on, Boyd had someone else woven into the tapestry of his childhood.

From then until now, Serana had become a thread running through the narrative of his life.

In their daily interactions, Serana was the picture of innocence, speaking in gentle whispers, looking at people with sincerity and care. Even as the years passed and she grew, she never changed – tender and fragile, yet brave and stubborn.

Outwardly, she seemed as delicate as a glass figurine, always needing protection, yet she fiercely tried to prove her strength, insisting she didn't need anyone's care and could even protect others.d2

Such a girl was irresistibly endearing – tender and attentive, pure and kind, brave, stubborn, and resilient.

Like her long, dark hair, the number of people drawn to her grew day by day. And it was true what they said – girls should have long hair.

Yasmine was beautiful but frosty by nature. Others kept their distance. From start to finish, Boyd was her only constant, and she never felt lonely. At least, not until she suddenly realized what loneliness was and found that certain things had become inevitable.

Boyd's time was no longer solely dedicated to her as he began to learn deeper subjects beyond the basic curriculum.

Companion? She had never considered Boyd's presence as companionship before.

But when did it start? It wasn't when Boyd's time began to scatter, leaving more for Serana.

Was it from the moments they shared meals together, or those occasional breaks when they sat beside the flower beds?

Or when they planted a lily bulb together, one digging a hole, the other tenderly placing the bulb inside?

She never felt it then.

But somehow, Serana began to irk her. And in their routine, she'd find herself unintentionally showing indifference or even hostility towards Serana.

The other kids at Angel's Haven Orphanage noticed too, whispering behind their backs, but she never bothered to refute them.

Because she knew it was true.

When did it start, exactly?

Perhaps it was when the lilies in the garden bloomed exceptionally beautiful, and the two silhouettes sitting together appeared so harmonious.

And then, a few days later, she found the desecrated lilies, and realized something had changed.

The garden's vibrant lilies had been a captivating sight at Angel's Haven Orphanage. Now, they were mostly dead, their petals scattered, leaves shredded, and stems snapped. Such an act was a significant event in the otherwise tranquil orphanage, and the investigation began.

"It was Yasmine. Just days after planting, I saw her by the garden, holding a trowel and looking pensive," said one.

"I saw her too, uprooting the seedlings with that trowel," added another.

"Recently, her gaze towards the garden was frightening, like... like when she looks at Serana," a third chimed in.

"She doesn't like Serana. We all know that. The lilies were planted by Serana, so it must've been her," concluded another.

The accusations piled up, but Yasmine just smiled.

She had merely added extra seeds after Serana planted, knowing the germination rate was low. And when the seedlings grew too dense, she thinned them out so the others could flourish.

They didn't understand these simple gardening concepts and blamed her out of ignorance, which she found both frustrating and laughable.

Serana said nothing, just knelt by the ruined garden, picking up petals with tears streaming down her face. Her tears drew even more displeasure at Yasmine, but the children's naive and ignorant gazes didn't warrant her concern.

"I don’t have any particular feelings about Serana. There's no motive. It wasn't me," she stated plainly.

The head of the orphanage didn't jump to conclusions based on the children's words, agreeing with Yasmine's simple statement. After all, the lilies thrived mainly because of Yasmine's care.

The matter was dropped for the time being, and the investigation continued quietly, possibly leading to a private reprimand for the culprit.

Boyd, who hadn't visited the scene of the "crime," seemed indifferent to the whole ordeal.

The following afternoon, during a rare appearance in craft class, he paired up with Yasmine, who had been working alone at a long table, as Serana was already working with someone else.

Yasmine, playing with colorful paper, greeted him casually. "Rare sight," she remarked.

Boyd set down the heavy finance books he'd been carrying – a surprising choice for someone his age that she'd grown accustomed to.

Without a word, he shook the books, and out fluttered colorful petals. One book after another, until Yasmine saw the table covered in the petals of lilies, pressed flat and still vibrant.

Her heart felt inexplicably heavy.

She looked up at him, his eyes serene but his lips curved in a casual smile. "I recall Serana was the one who gathered up all those flower petals."

Boyd regarded her with a detached gaze, standing by the table, not much taller than the piece of furniture itself. However, those eyes seemed to hold a universe of secrets, now veiled with a frosty film.

"You don't seem to care much about them," he observed.

Yasmine glanced at the petals and let out a light chuckle. "And what, pray tell, should I feel about them?"

He stared at her for a long moment. "Indeed, Serana picked them up. She cried over them for an entire day."

She paused, tearing off excess edges from the colored paper in her hands. "So, you think I should have a good cry over them too?"

"You look rather happy as it is."

Yasmine was all too accustomed to Boyd's way of conversation. Always skirting full disclosure, they nevertheless understood each other's unspoken words with ease.

Her heart continued to sink, a suffocating weight. "Don't I have the right to be happy?"