The Boy in White

Ethan Montgomery fixed a deep gaze upon her, his eyes lingering just a moment longer than necessary before turning to Mr. Wilson. "Take her to the hotel first," he instructed with an authoritative tone.

Unbeknownst to many, this man stood as the Vice President of the French Division of Montgomery Group.

"Yes, sir," Mr. Wilson replied, bowing respectfully. Only after Ethan Montgomery's retreating figure had vanished into the distance did he lift his head and lead Avery Miller to the hotel.

Upon arrival at the hotel, Avery Miller's stomach embarrassingly grumbled again. 

She drew back the curtains of the hotel balcony, revealing the golden hue of a Parisian morning sun, sprawling across the sky and casting a romantic glow over the city.

The breathtaking view momentarily eased the pangs of hunger in her stomach.

Stepping into the bathroom, Avery Miller hastily showered, then collapsed onto the luxurious, sprawling softness of the hotel's grand bed, quickly succumbing to sleep.

In her dreams, a boy who bore a striking resemblance to Ethan Montgomery sat atop a high wall. 

He was dressed in a crisp, clean white shirt, holding a large lollipop in his hand. As she approached from the beach, he greeted her with a warm, radiant smile, as bright as the sunshine. 

The sound of the sea gently lapping at the shore complemented his mesmerizing smile, blinding her. She joined in his laughter, sharing a moment of unspoken joy.

Then, like a magician performing a trick, the boy slowly moved closer to her, extending the lollipop in his hand...

In the dream, just as Avery Miller reached out to take the lollipop, the boy vanished. 

The wall he sat upon transformed into a door, behind which numerous foreigners pressed impatiently at the doorbell.

The persistent doorbell jolted Avery Miller from her slumber. 

She sat up in bed, reluctant to move, her eyes stubbornly closed, long eyelashes curling delicately but unable to lift the weight of her heavy eyelids.

Just as she was about to succumb to sleep once more, the doorbell rang again, each chime more urgent than the last.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," she muttered, tumbling out of bed. Groggily, she leaped up and stumbled to open the door.

"Who is it?" As the door swung open, her eyes were greeted by a cart laden with an assortment of delicious foods, and then, by a freckled, blond-haired, blue-eyed young delivery girl.

"Ms. Miller, Mr. Montgomery sent this dinner for you," the delivery girl said in fluent Mandarin.

Avery Miller blinked away her sleepiness, finally fully opening her eyes. 

Had she not seen the girl's face, she might have thought she was still in America. 

She took over the cart, offering a polite smile. "Thank you, I've got it from here."

The delivery girl nodded politely before turning to leave.

Watching the girl's retreating figure, a smile curled at the corners of Avery Miller's lips.

It seemed that Ethan Montgomery, quite astutely, understood her after all. 

Knowing she didn't speak French, he thoughtfully had a little girl who spoke english deliver her breakfast. 

Mulling over this, Avery Miller couldn't help but feel that, maybe, he wasn't so bad. 

As she wheeled the cart into the room and set about arranging the breakfast, thoughts of him flickered in her mind, a hint of unacknowledged emotion twinkling in the corner of her eye. 

Could it be that he was the boy from her dream last night, the one with a smile, offering her a lollipop? 

Was this some kind of dream coming true? 

Had Ethan Montgomery always been like this? 

Gentle, not domineering or forceful, always greeting her with a warm smile?

Was that really him? 

Ethan Montgomery, with his striking looks and those deep, enigmatic eyes that always seemed to leave her breathless. 

What exactly was this feeling?

Nibbling on a piece of bread, she realized that she had forgotten its taste, lost in her thoughts.

As night fell, the French sky was draped in dimly lit clouds, with the golden sunset illuminating the other half. 

The shrouded part of the sky seemed mysteriously grey. 

Throughout the day, Ethan Montgomery hadn't come to see her, nor had anyone taken her out. Had it not been for the little girl delivering meals, she might have thought he had forgotten about her entirely.

Sitting idly on the balcony of the luxurious presidential suite, she gazed at the colorful clouds, humming a tune and clipping her nails. A joke book would have been a welcome distraction.

"What are you doing there?" A familiar yet strange voice startled her from behind. 

It had only been a day, but she had almost forgotten his face.

"Nothing, just..." She quickly hid the nail clipper behind her, slipped on her shoes, and stood up to face him directly.

Ethan Montgomery gave her a single glance before tossing a contract at her. 

"Sign this before I finish showering." he said, shedding his coat and heading towards the bathroom without another word.

"What's this?" Avery Miller unfolded it to see the word 'contract' in bold letters. 

Reading further, her bewilderment grew.

"What? Marry you for three years? And what's this about fulfilling my duties as a wife, while you, apart from paying me a million each month, have no obligations as a husband? What does this mean?" 

Avery tossed the contract onto the table. "What kind of absurd contract is this? I won't sign it. I come from a respectable family, and I won't just sell myself off like that. Forget about it, hmph!"

Avery Miller tilted her head, enveloped in silence for a long moment. 

Picking up the contract she had discarded, she read through each clause again, her heart sinking with each word. 

"How about it? Have you signed it?" Ethan Montgomery's voice, deep and sensual, broke the silence as he emerged, draped only in a towel. 

His well-built, lean physique was on full display, his gaze deep like an unfathomable spring, and his lips slightly parted. 

Avery's cheeks flushed at the sight.

"No, I haven't," she stammered, looking down, puzzled at her own nervousness around him, feeling like a frightened rabbit caught in a trap.

"Why won't you sign?" Ethan leaned in, his masculine scent enveloping her, mixed with the faint smell of his shower gel. 

His breath tickled her neck, making it hard for her to breathe and think straight. 

"Can... can you give me ten million first?" Avery asked, lifting her gaze to meet his, fear and pleading swimming in her eyes.

"Ten million? Didn't I already give that to your father?" His voice was both seductive and mesmerizing.

"Then, could you advance me ten million?" Avery blurted out, flustered, as his breath grew warmer near her ear, turning it crimson.

"No problem. You can advance as much as you want, even the entire amount. Do you have any other questions?"

"Then, I want to receive the money the day after tomorrow and return to my country," Avery said, shifting to keep her distance from him.

"I'll be done here the day after tomorrow too. We can go back together. Sign the contract." 

Ethan's sultry voice resonated close to her ear, always closing the gap she tried to maintain, leaving her mind blank, unable to think of any more critical questions.

After a moment of silence, his breath grew closer, forcing her to hastily sign the document. 

Only after signing did she remember her earlier concern.

"Wait, what does clause ten mean? About me fulfilling the duties of a wife, but you having no obligations as a husband?" Avery asked timidly, her eyes seeking his, a picture of earnest inquiry.

"It means," his breath grew closer, "that you must serve me every night. Whenever I want, you must give in unconditionally. But, I won't be exclusive to you." 

His voice, sensual and magnetic, finished speaking before he bit her ear gently, lifting her from the chair, and striding towards the bed.