The Enticing CEO's Chosen Bride novel Chapter 2052

Cicely fought to keep her words coherent, each syllable felt like she was severing the cord that she had nourished with her own blood between them, the pain was visceral. Seth’s grip on her wrist was so strong it felt like her bones might shatter, and she winced in agony.

Instead, he just looked at her expression and suddenly sneered.

She was in pain now? He wanted to know how deep her pain ran, and to compare it to the torment he was enduring now. But in the end, seeing her pale, sweat-beaded face, he eased his grip. He still held her firmly, staring deeply into her eyes before he finally spoke a single word.

“Fine.”

Cicely’s heart felt like plastic on an open flame, shriveling instantly.

Seth was an enigma, and the nature of his relationship with Cicely—whether it was affection, love, or indifference—was beyond Charlie’s understanding. It seemed to Charlie that Mr. Diaz could act the same way with any other woman, if he wanted.d2

But which woman could make Mr. Diaz willing to do so?

Charlie didn’t understand, but he sensed that the current standoff between the two would eventually brew into a profound regret.

“Mr. Diaz.” Charlie tried to remind Seth to stay calm, knowing that making decisions in the heat of the moment was a bad idea.

Cicely, enduring the sharp pain in her heart, slowly nodded, “I’ll prepare the divorce papers. The damage to Diaz International’s operations is indeed my fault. As compensation, I’ll transfer all of my Ellis Group shares to you.”

Charlie was visibly shocked.

All of her shares in Diaz International? That could be enough to take over several Diaz Internationals.

Seth smirked, “Seems like I’m getting the better end of the deal after all. But Issac isn’t dead yet, so this sweet deal is just a thought for now.”

Cicely took a deep breath, “I’ll have the divorce agreement prepared in advance.”

Seth watched her silently for a moment longer, then finally let go of her hand. “But before that, Cicely, don’t forget you’re still my wife. You and your well-being are still my responsibility. Issac dies the day after tomorrow, and until then, you’d better swallow your food and water, even if you have to force it down. I’ll even tie you to the bed if I have to make sure you get some sleep. So, it’s in your best interest to behave and not provoke me.”

Cicely’s eyelashes trembled.

“Charlie!”

Charlie snapped to attention, “Yes, Mr. Diaz.”

"Take her to see Issac, and in half an hour, set the nightcap in front of her and watch her finish it."

Charlie glanced at Cicely, torn, but obliged. “Understood.”

With that said, Seth turned to leave.

Cicely watched his assertive retreating figure, her clenched fists tightening and then releasing. Finally, she lowered her gaze, concealing the emotions in her eyes, and walked away.

Issac had been taken to the ICU.

Brody stood by, looking at his unconscious son on the hospital bed, tears streaming down his face.

Cicely stumbled as she entered the room but managed to steady herself with Charlie’s help. She stared at the man on the bed, tears falling uncontrollably. All the tears of her life seemed to want to dry up in just one day.

Charlie assisted Cicely closer to the lifeless Issac, and suddenly, she knelt before Brody.

“Miss!” Brody's voice quivered as he tried to lift her up.

However, Cicely grabbed his hand instead. She lowered her head, biting her lip tightly to keep the sadness coursing through her body down, and to keep her voice from sounding so shaking. “Brody, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, miss.”

Cicely shook her head, her voice tense with endless regret and sorrow. “It is all my fault, Brody. It is all my fault.”

Brody closed his eyes in resignation.

Charlie could see that Brody still harbored regrets, and he still blamed Cicely. Regardless of the reasons, Issac's condition had something to do with her. Even if it was about duty or responsibility, the only son he had was about to be lost.

People might not believe it if you said Cicely was well-behaved and understanding, but they would believe if you said she was spoiled and petulant.

Brody had watched Cicely grow up, pampered and loved. She was sensible, indeed, but she was also petulant.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to truly blame her. Everyone was a victim in their own right.

“I’m sorry, Brody. I’m sorry.” Cicely’s slender shoulders shook as she repeated her apology.

Brody heaved a deep sigh, then knelt beside her. “Miss, Issac did the right thing. It’s just fate.”

Cicely took a deep breath, struggling to stand and helping Brody up with Charlie’s assistance, then guiding him to sit down.

The busy medical staff approached to remind them, “You can stay at most 30 minutes tonight.”

*

Seth made his way straight to the hospital's park, stopping in front of a row of cypress trees.

The events of the entire day replayed in his mind. In the end, it all came down to Cicely's every expression, and every word she spoke.

She seemed to wield a hundred ways to inflict pain, sharp, keen, and unerring.

If Issac died, she didn’t want anything to do with him. The one who feared he would leave was her, and ironically, the one who didn’t want him was also her.

A low, cool chuckle escaped his throat as he took out his phone with fingertips white from the cold. He dialed a number and waited for the call to connect, the phone pressed to his ear.

The summer night’s warm breeze brushed by, people in the park walked and chatted, but in his world, there was only the sound of the call waiting tone.

“Hello?” A deep, steady voice eventually answered.

Seth slowly began, “Damon, I need a favor.”

"A favor?" The voice on the other end fell silent for a split second, as if the words were unfamiliar, especially coming from Seth. "I've been following the news. If you want my help with Diaz International, no problem."

"I'll handle Diaz International myself."

Damon's lips curled into a smirk. This was the Seth he knew—oozing pride and arrogance from every pore. But if that were the case, what could possibly make him swallow his pride and come asking for a favor?

Damon's interest was piqued, a rare occurrence. "So, what's up?"

"Help me save someone."

"You're asking for help, which means this isn't going to be easy."

"That's right."

"And if we fail?"

Seth's expression turned to stone. "Failure is not an option."

No matter what. At any cost. Issac couldn't die.

Half an hour later, Seth found his way to the VIP hospital room. Charlie's reaction was more relaxed than expected.

Cicely was perched on a sofa outside the room, nibbling on a plate of neatly sliced fruit. It was her request, and Charlie had personally peeled and sliced it for her.

"Mr. Diaz."

Seth's gaze shifted from Cicely, his tone as flat as his expression. "I told you to prepare dinner, and you serve her this?"

"My apologies, Mr. Diaz," Charlie hastily replied. "Dinner will be just a little while longer. The missus wanted something from Carly's kitchen, and I've already informed Carly. She's on it."

Seth was surprised. He hadn't expected her to ask for anything to eat. It wasn't like her usual style, but it did remind him of the Cicely who never let herself be slighted.

His expression softened slightly as he took off his coat and approached the sofa, tossing it over the backrest.

Cicely didn't look up from her phone, occasionally picking up a piece of fruit and chewing with a crunch. He sat down beside her, watching as her plate of fruit neared empty yet she showed no sign of stopping. He finally spoke up. "You still need to eat dinner."

Cicely kept eating, "I'll eat dinner and fruit. I'll eat whatever I want. When did you start dictating my diet? Or is it that you think you've only got two days left to make me miserable?"

Her words were laced with venom, dripping with sarcasm. In the end, no one could outdo Cicely when it came to making others miserable.

Charlie glanced at Seth, trying to gauge his reaction. Charlie had to admit that Seth was truly good at hiding his emotions. If anyone else were in Mr. Diaz's shoes, they'd probably be angry, but Seth remained impassive, simply leaning back and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Better to eat less at night. Overeating will make you uncomfortable, and it will disturb my rest."

Cicely paused, "If you're so concerned, keep your distance. The bed at home must be comfortable, or anywhere else for that matter. Don't worry. Even if I'm in agony, I won't bother you."

Seth dropped his hands and looked at Charlie, "How many servings did Carly prepare?"

Charlie hesitated, "Enough for two."

"Hmm, tell her to pack some extra, I'm starving."

"Will do."

Cicely's eyes darkened.

Before long, Carly had the food delivered.

Charlie helped set it up, and as Cicely put away her phone and tried to stand, Seth picked up a bowl of soup and said flatly, "If you don't want me to force-feed you or make idle conversation, sit down and eat. You're the last person who should be wasting energy today."

Charlie handed her the utensils in timely fashion, "Ma'am, these are all dishes you requested. Don't let anger spoil your appetite."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Cicely's face, but she took the utensils anyway. Seth and Charlie were right.

They ate in silence, neither offering food to the other, their utensils never crossing paths.

Seth finished first and stood up, checking the time and glancing at Charlie. Charlie quickly exited the room.

"Take a shower after you eat." Seth looked down at Cicely, still leisurely enjoying her meal, and with that, he took his coat and left the room.

When Charlie stepped out, he was met by two imposing strangers, standing rigidly on either side of the room, obviously there to guard the Cicely's room. Startled, he saw Seth emerge behind them. "Sir, what is—"