A Scene in the Corridor

Bright streetlights illuminated the way as Avery Miller meandered through the city. 

Surrounded by unfamiliar French signage and faces that blended into one another, she realized how similar it all was to America, dampening her excitement for this once dreamt-of destination.

Her mood, tinged with gloom, cast a pall over the beauty of the city. 

People bustled about with purpose, contrasting sharply with the occasional street musicians. 

Amidst the crowd, Avery stood out, aimlessly wandering, her heart heavy, unable to find a spark of enthusiasm for life.

As night fell and the sky darkened, Avery rubbed her hands together, feeling the cold despite her thin white dress. 

The hundred-franc bill in her hand felt pointless, with nowhere to spend it, she contemplated simply returning it where it belonged.

Her mind was a blank canvas, her gaze lost in the distance, her eyes reflecting a void.

The night grew darker; the street's crowd waxed and waned. Glancing back, her long hair danced in the wind. 

Realizing how far she had walked, she knew it was time to return, yet without a penny to her name, she needed him to take her back.

Turning around, Avery retraced her steps. 

Unfortunately, she had wandered too far; walking back would take till midnight. 

Avery hailed a cab, briefly conversing in English with the driver to keep driving straight. The car sped off, Avery gazing out the window, lost in thought.

She had overestimated her stamina; her legs, already aching, now refused to move. Tired and hungry, she yearned for the comfort of a bath and a meal. 

Wondering if he had returned and if he would be upset by her absence. Perhaps not.

Perhaps he didn't care for her as much as she imagined. 

Their relationship was, after all, nothing more than a contract.

Upon reaching her destination, Avery handed the driver the hundred francs, reluctant to part with it but left with no choice. 

If she couldn't return to school, she would find a job. 

She had already spent the money Ethan Montgomery had given her for the past few months and couldn't bear to ask for more. 

She preferred to earn her keep rather than be... maintained.

Entering the hotel, she found herself in the midst of the elevator's rush hour. 

As the crowd grew, Avery, ever averse to crowds, opted for the stairs instead.

Fortunately, living on the fifth floor was nothing new for her. 

Back in school, her dorm was on the seventh floor, and during crowded times, she'd often take the stairs with others. 

Years of this routine had made her adept at climbing floors, the fifth was no challenge at all.

Breathless from the rare exertion of stair climbing, she was almost at the fifth floor when she heard sounds from the corridor above. 

Treading lightly, she ascended a few more steps, curious to see what was happening. 

As she peeked out, her body froze in shock.

Unaware of her approach, Ethan Montgomery continued to passionately kiss the person in his arms.

Sasha Reed, having heard he was in Paris, had flown overnight from home to see him. Discovering another woman in his hotel room didn't anger her; she simply booked the room next door to theirs.

Just as she left her room that evening, she ran into Ethan Montgomery, freshly returned. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

Ethan didn't resist. He carried her to the corridor, tearing the buttons off her clothes with a fervor like a cheetah parched for too long, voraciously savoring the moisture before him.

Her resistance melted under his kiss, and she collapsed into his embrace, weakened.

Ethan didn't mind. He lifted her, his hand sliding under her skirt, pressing his body forward.

A slight shiver ran through her body, and her blush deepened, reddening her perfectly shaped lips.

"Ah, Ethan," Sasha Reed whispered his name, her voice soft and tender, like affectionate waters quenching thirst.

Ethan Montgomery, eyes closed, curved his lips into a seductive smile, enchanting and bewitching, making the woman in his arms lose all sense of reason and cling tighter to him.

Sasha Reed gasped softly, her screen siren persona forgotten, transformed into a woman of carnal desire.

Her dress crumpled and bunched up, her shoulder slipping free of its fabric. 

In contrast, the man embracing her was impeccably dressed, his shirt crisp and wrinkle-free.

What a perfect gentleman in appearance, yet a beast at heart!

Avery Miller's mind went blank at the sight, a sharp sting at the corners of her eyes, her heart filled with an indescribable bitterness.

Tears welled up as she fought to hold them back, her shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs.

His words from the previous night echoed in her mind. "You're to serve me every night. When I want, you give, no conditions. But remember, you won't be the only one."

So, it was true! All painfully true!

He certainly kept his word; what he said last night, he showed her today. 

Oh, how wonderfully honest of him!

Avery Miller stepped backward, intending to leave quietly. 

Without turning around, she moved stealthily backwards, but suddenly her foot missed a step, and she fell backward without any defense.

A cry of terror echoed through the narrow corridor as she tumbled down the stairs, her arms shielding her head, blood trailing behind from the scrapes and cuts.

Hearing the commotion downstairs, Ethan Montgomery's actions halted abruptly. His expression darkened in an instant, and he pushed Sasha Reed away, rushing down the stairs.

The sight of blood in the hallway ignited a fiery red in his eyes. 

He held his breath as he descended, his heart tightening at the sight of Avery Miller lying in a pool of blood.

Although he felt no affection for her, the thought of her dying was not something he wanted. 

There were still contracts between them; she was still of use to him. She couldn't just die like this.

Without a second thought, he strode towards Avery Miller. 

Sensing someone approaching, Avery mustered all her strength to lift herself but couldn't. 

Ethan reached her, scooping her into his arms and carrying her back up to the fifth floor.

---

"I order you, now, immediately, get over to Xerl and bring the medical kit!" Ethan bellowed into the phone after bringing her back to the hotel room. 

His eyes were cold, his demeanor radiating an inexplicable irritation and anger.

The other side didn't dare delay, arriving soon with the medical kit.

"Mr. Montgomery," the newcomer greeted with a bow, but Ethan swiftly pulled him to the bedside.

"Treat her, now!" Ethan commanded, his tone authoritarian and domineering, reminiscent of an ancient emperor, his dark and deep eyes shimmering with an unsettling emotion.

"Yes, Mr. Montgomery."

Dr. James Miller, following Ethan's orders, began treating Avery Miller at the bedside. 

He couldn't help but notice the marks on her neck and the tear streaks on her face. 

Surprised, he wondered, after all these years, did Ethan still resort to violence against women?

This was not a good habit. Didn't he realize he needed to change or at least restrain himself? 

Was he so obsessed with one woman that he would destroy all others to be satisfied?

Sighing resignedly, Dr. Miller kept his thoughts to himself. 

Some things were not his place to say. 

Ethan's moods were as unpredictable as an emperor's, impossible to fathom.