Danielle’s lips clamped shut, the fingers entwined with Patty's tightened suddenly.
Patty winced slightly, her brow furrowed as she watched Seth carry Cicely towards the interior of the room, disappearing into the throng of people.
Her frown deepened.
She wasn't oblivious to the closeness that had developed between Seth and Cicely over the past couple of years. When she had chosen to leave, she had trusted in Seth's nature—his likelihood of getting entangled with a girl was slim to none.
With his keen intelligence, almost to the point of world-weariness, how could he possibly be ensnared by emotions?
Besides, even if Seth was to be with someone, it surely couldn't be someone like Cicely—well-known for her haughtiness, arrogance, and caprice.d2
After all, she knew her son. How much patience could he possibly have? And how much patience could he have for a woman?
Sure, he'd have women, but in her mind, his future wife would be someone like Danielle, quiet, docile, standing by his side. Someone who adored him, therefore utterly compliant, carefully remaining by his side, the epitome of domestic bliss.
But Cicely? Always wanting too much, she had a possessiveness that demanded to be satisfied.
Petulant, proud, pampered... If she were a character in a soap opera, her role would be the haughty and malicious heiress, unreasonably domineering, shamelessly persistent.
All her actions were unlikeable; she was the quintessential villain, universally despised.
Such a girl, so unabashedly bad, so obviously clingy, how could Seth possibly invite such trouble upon himself?
She had left to give time its due, believing time would gradually make Seth realize that a girl like Cicely was entirely unsuitable for him, but now, it seemed her hopes had been dashed.
No wonder Danielle had repeatedly suggested she return home. The photograph had indeed shocked her.
She pursed her lips, turning to look at Danielle whose face had paled, and offered a strained smile. "Did you ever fight for it?"
Danielle paused, turning to her with a blank expression.
"If you don't even fight for it, how can you expect others to fall into your lap?"
Danielle's eyes flickered, then she smiled bitterly and shook her head. He didn't even give her the chance to fight for him, so what right did she have to try?
Patty's lips twisted, and she walked towards the interior of the room. "The thing is, Cicely sees things more clearly than anyone else, understands her own strengths, and leverages them well. The majority speaks ill of her behind her back, she possesses all the vices of a spoiled rich girl, and she seemed like the very person who seems least deserving of love. Still, she has everything others only dream of."
Danielle couldn't tell if it was her imagination, but she thought she detected a heavy dose of sarcasm and chill in Patty's trailing voice.
As they stepped through the door, Patty's face lit up with a gracious smile. Danielle looked at her, slightly dazed.
Patty turned to her, her smile as gentle and harmless as ever. "Even she knows what it means to fight for what she wants. What are you hesitating for?"
"But..." Danielle murmured as they blended into the crowd, "Seth probably won't love me."
Patty suddenly laughed out loud, stopping in her tracks and turning to face her. The smile on her face sent a chill through Danielle. "Love? Do you think Seth could love Cicely? Or anyone, for that matter?"
Patty raised her hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Danielle's ear, gently caressing her head as she spoke in a tender whisper, "Sweetheart, it's enough that you love him. Being with the one you love makes you the winner in life. You've got your heart's desire, isn't that enough? Learn to be content and not ask for too much."
Danielle was taken aback, yet deep down she agreed. Indeed, to be with the one you love was enough.
"Do you understand?" Patty withdrew her hand, her smile inquiring.
Danielle nodded, but then hesitated once more, "I don't expect him to love me, but right now, it feels like he despises me."
How to begin to fight for it?
Creighton emerged from the side elevator, followed by a procession of well-dressed men. Noticing Patty, he nodded in her direction.
Patty watched him, her smile casual as she observed him walk to the other side of the room, her lips parting to say, "There are so many kinds of relationships. It's not just romantic love that brings people together."
Danielle's brow furrowed in confusion, and she fell silent, pondering.
--
Seth carried Cicely directly into the elevator, her arms wrapped around his neck, her face buried in his chest. The pain from her feet was sharp, and though her face was pale, the joy was unmistakable.
"Which room is it?" The elevator promptly stopped on the third floor, and Seth stepped out with her in his arms, glancing down to ask.
"The one on the far right."
Seth turned right.
Luckily, Cicely's room was spacious yet unassuming. Considering the grandeur of the villa's exterior, Seth wouldn't have been surprised if Creighton had designed her a princess suite, but Cicely wasn't one for such flamboyant tastes.
Seth bent down and placed her on the soft sofa. The lights in the room had already come on.
Cicely slid her arm down from his shoulder, staring at Seth in his expensive and well-fitted suit. He bent down, squatting in front of her, with a handsome and gentle face so close that she felt a bit dazed for a moment.
There was no excessive emotion on his face, but the sight of him kneeling before her, removing her shoes with such care, pleased her greatly. She may not have seen his concern in his expression, but she wasn't foolish. Interpreting his worry through his actions was a delight.
The pampered heiress was confident in her own worth. Her feet were delicate and lovely. Even her toes were perfectly shaped.
Across the arch of her foot ran a faint red mark, the impression left by the edge of her high heels. On the back of her heel, the skin was more severely abraded, a bit swollen.
Both feet bore these marks.
Seth's brow creased slightly, and he looked up at her with a cool gaze.
Cicely's face was still pale, and the thin sheen of sweat had yet to subside. Such an injury might be trivial to others, perhaps painful, but not as if half their blood had been drawn.
Seth's gaze was anything but friendly as he stared at Cicely, who pursed her lips in a hurt, pitiful expression. "Ouch."
His already tight lips tensed further, his eyes falling upon her swollen ankle, his defined fingers gently tracing around the inflamed area.
"My ankle's sore too." Cicely lowered her voice, a soft, plaintive tone slipping through her words.
Seth remained silent.
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