The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

vIf it weren’t for the fact that someone had decided to pit her against Rose over

the same dress, things might not have escalated to this point.

Mason arched an eyebrow and scratched his temple, with a sheepish

expression on his face. “Hey, I was just doing a favor for someone.”

Who would’ve thought that a dress-clash could cause such a drama? Indeed,

that woman was just as the rumors had said—a real she-devil.

A simple garment had sparked this whole “bloodbath,” probably all part of her

wicked plan.

He shivered involuntarily. Terrifying, utterly terrifying.

Enter title…

Rose noticed Mason’s words, as well as his subsequent expressions and subtle

actions. She raised an eyebrow, a hint of confusion flashing in her eyes.d2

Doing a favor for someone?

When she first realized her dress clashed with Mona’s, she thought it had been

Mona’s doing—like she was flaunting her victory.

She’d even worried that someone would make a joke out of the baby bump she

was sporting. After all, a dress-clash was one thing, but with her protruding belly,

it could become a laughingstock.

But now, it seemed the tables had turned in her favor. Who could be behind

this?

Catching Rose’s gaze, Mason lifted his head and offered her a small smile and

a nod. She nodded back, smiling.

The hand wrapped around her waist tightened. Snapping back to reality, she

noticed Morrison glaring at her with a furrowed brow. “What’s up?”

Morrison pursed his lips. “Stay away from him, he’s a creep.”

Rose was speechless for a moment before retorting, “Have you seen the state

your Mona’s in? And you’re worried about others?”

“What are you talking about, when is she mine? Watch your mouth.”

Rose chuckled, shrugged off his grip, and ran her fingers through her hair.

“It’s not now, but it was before.”

With that, she glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow and casually wished him

a “Happy Birthday” before turning and walking toward the exit of the banquet

hall, leaving an agitated Mona behind.

“Where are you going?” Morrison hurried after her.

Rose didn’t respond.

“Rose! You haven’t had your cake yet.”

“I’m skipping it. Sweets are just too cloying for my taste right now. Why are you

following me? There’s a whole crowd waiting to eat your birthday cake.”

“The cake is right there, and whoever wants a piece can help themselves—I’m

not stopping them.”

Rose halted, scanning the surroundings before shifting her gaze to Morrison.

“Are you sure you want to leave all your guests hanging like this?”

Morrison paused, turned, and shouted to Riley: “Order two more cakes, make

sure everyone gets their fill, and thank them for coming.”

The crowd was too stunned to react. This Mr. Witt of R City was hardly the type

to make such announcements. Even Riley was taken aback for a few seconds

before blurting out, somewhat bewildered, “Mr. Witt, are we really sending those

tampons to Mr. Mason as well?”

Morrison glanced at Mason, snorted, and said, “Of course. Although he’s a bit of

a pervert, I’m still very grateful to him for helping Mrs. Witt out of trouble back

then. A mere truckload is not enough to express my gratitude. If Mr. Mason ever

runs out, let feel free to ask for more in the future.”

Mason’s lips twitched at the childish remark—it seemed the man would never let

things go.

Rose, somewhat helpless, smoothed her forehead and without a word,

continued her stride out of the hall.

Morrison quickly followed. “Rose! Isn’t this a bit much? It’s my birthday, and

you’re leaving early?”

Without breaking her stride, Rose turned to him. “This isn’t the first time I’ve

been acting like this.”

Caught off guard, Morrison stumbled over his words. “I also don’t really like that

sickly sweet cake. I hate it, actually.”

“Well, that’s a shame because the vegan cream cake I ordered should be

arriving at our place about now.”

Morrison paused mid-stride, watching Rose’s retreating figure. Grinding his

teeth, he caught up to her in a few long steps and suddenly scooped her up

from behind. “Ah…” Rose let out a startled cry, instinctively wrapping her arms

around Morrison’s neck.

As the world steadied, she saw Morrison’s face close up, and in frustration, she

smacked his shoulder. “You scared me to death! What are you doing?!”

Morrison took large steps forward, holding her in his arms.. “We’re going home

to eat cake.”

“But you said you don’t like cake?”

He grunted. “Not only am I going to eat cake, but I’m planning on devouring you

with it.”

Rose’s cheeks flushed a sudden shade of crimson.

Molly shook her head with a mix of exasperation and affection. Megan covered

her eyes. “Well, that cheeky boy. No shame whatsoever!”

Rose had countless memories of clashing with Morrison, but none were like this

—so shamelessly rogue. And she found herself at a loss on how to handle this

version of him.

“I never thought you’d be such a… a brat.”

“Hmph! Thanks for the compliment. I’ll be sure to continue, to embody the

perfect brat.”

“Please, have some dignity.”

“Never.”

Behind them, the crowd watched as the two of them disappeared into the

distance, their hearts filled with complex emotions.

Meanwhile, Mona stood frozen, her face as pale as snow. Noticing her, people

shook their heads.

“Mrs. Witt was right; she really brought it on herself.”

“She could’ve kept it hidden forever, but she had to show up uninvited today and

got exposed inside and out.”

“It’s embarrassing. If I were her, I’d want to disappear on the spot.”

Molly watched her coldly. “Mona, I’ll try to keep tonight’s events under wraps.

But I hope what you said is true and you will leave R City for good. Otherwise, it

won’t just be the Witt family that can’t stand you, but all of R City.”

Mona, who had been standing rigid as a statue, finally turned her gaze to Molly

with a flicker of emotion.

Molly, her expression icy, offered a smile devoid of warmth. “Would you like a

piece of cake?”

—

Before leaving the hotel, Morrison fetched Rose’s coat from the concierge,

gently draping it over her shoulders. He had intended to carry her out into the

snowy night, but Rose resisted.

“I can walk by myself, there’s snow outside.”

Morrison, however, insisted and took her hand, leading her out of the hotel.

The snow was still falling, blanketing the ground in a thick, glistening layer that

sparkled under the hotel’s lights—a sight of pure winter wonder.

Rose paused at the entrance, silently gazing into the snowy expanse, her hand

eventually slipping from Morrison’s as she lifted her dress slightly and stepped

into the snow.

“Rose.”

Her silence was unfamiliar, and Morrison hesitated to press further, content to

simply call her name softly and watch her retreating figure.

In the center of the courtyard, Rose stretched out her hand, allowing the