Devion returned home after resolving the situation on the net; he took a hot shower, then settled at the dining table. As dinner was being served, he glanced toward the staircase. "Where is she?" he asked, referring to Miller.
Just before Mama B could reply, the sound of footsteps on the stairs answered for him. Miller walked down, her expression serious. In her hand was a file. She walked straight to him and placed the handwritten file on the table in front of him, followed by a pen.
"I think it's better we have the rules of this marriage written down on paper," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
He opened the file and scanned the document. It was a comprehensive list of rules all designed to protect her and build a boundary between them. Rules about personal space, non-interference in her work and personal life, and strict limitations on physical contact. The penalty for any violation was a fine of one million dollars.
"I should also add my terms too, don't you think?" he said, looking up at her. His face was unreadable, but his tone was reasonable.
She looked at him suspiciously, searching for a trap, but he merely waited, pen in hand, deciding it was only fair she gave a curt nod. He took the pen, his movements calm and precise, and wrote a single clause at the bottom: "By fulfilling this contract, Party B must be willing and prepared to act as normal, legally married couples are supposed to with Party A when necessary."
Miller read it carefully, her mind analyzing every word. It seemed broad but essentially normal, a cover for their arrangement in public. She could find no immediate harm in it. "Fine," she said.
He signed the document with a flourish, and she did the same, her signature neat beside his.
"I will bring you your copy tomorrow so everyone is on equal footing," she said, turning to leave.
"Okay," Devion replied, his voice dripping with a calm that felt almost unnatural.
As she walked away, she didn't see the sly, triumphant smile that briefly touched his lips before he schooled his features back into neutrality. This marriage, he thought, had just become more interesting.
---
The following morning delivered a shock far greater than any contract. Just as Devion was preparing to leave for the office and Miller was heading out for the day, the front doors of the house swung open. Old Madam Montgomery herself stood there, a woman of formidable authority. She walked in, her sharp eyes scanning the house as if inspecting a newly acquired asset. Her personal assistant, Zachary, followed silently a step behind, a living shadow. Her cold, discerning gaze landed on them: Devion, sitting in the sitting room with Ethan by his side, and Miller, frozen mid-descent on the staircase.
"G-good morning, ma'am," Miller stammered. Who in J-city wouldn't recognize the matriarch? She was more iconic than any of the Montgomery heirs.
"Ma'am?" the old lady repeated, her voice cold and questioning. "Aren't you my grandson's wife? Or... is this a false marriage?" It was a deliberate, provocative bait.
Miller's cheeks flushed. "Pardon my mistake... Grandma," she rephrased immediately, forcing a polite smile onto her face.
The old lady didn't seem satisfied. Her eyes remained fixed on Miller, dissecting her, until Devion's voice cut through the tension. "Grandma, what are you doing here?"
She gave him a dirty glance. "You wouldn't bring your wife to the family, even though you claimed you were married, and I wouldn't even know what she looked like if it weren't for the news." She settled elegantly on the largest sofa, Zachary standing at rigid attention behind her. Ethan seized the opportunity to escape the family drama.
"Good day, ma'am," he said with a quick bow, and practically fled the scene.
Miller, seeing her chance, began to retreat. "I'll be off..."
"No," Old Madam Montgomery interrupted, her tone allowing no argument. "You will sit with your husband." She paused, letting the silence stretch. "Unless... this is a false marriage."
Miller's jaw tightened so hard she feared it might crack. She walked stiffly to the sofa and sat beside Devion, putting a careful few inches between them. The proximity of their sitting sent an unwelcome heat through her; it felt improper and unsettling, but she had to maintain the facade.
"You've seen my wife. I think you can leave now," Devion said, though a part of him was intrigued by the subtle floral scent of Miller that now filled his senses; he loved it every time.
"I came to get proof that my grandson isn't in a false marriage to fool me into giving him the Golden River Project," she stated plainly, "and I have prepared a mental list for you both."
A wave of dread washed over Miller. She sat in silence as Mama B served the old lady tea. Madam Montgomery sipped it slowly, the silence stretching until it was almost unbearable. Finally, she asked her first question: "How did you both meet?"
Miller's mind went blank. Panic surged within her. How could she possibly say she'd drunkenly had a one-night stand with him, mistaking him for an escort? She let out an awkward, nervous laugh and turned to Devion, her eyes wide. "I am sure my husband would be able to tell that best," she deflected.
Devion raised a brow, amused by her desperation. He decided to play along. "We met in downtown J-city, days before the Adele incident," he began, his voice smooth. "She came straight to me that night..." He paused, looking at Miller, who was staring at him with eyes full of silent, frantic pleading. A provocative smile touched his lips. "...She looked very lost, and she approached me for help in locating someone; I just couldn't help but get captivated. Love at first sight. I kept thinking about her until fate gave me the opportunity to look for her, and I found her. With my charm, I managed to get her to marry me." He spun the tale with such sweet conviction it almost sounded true.
Miller felt a wave of pure relief.
Old Madam Montgomery looked impressed as she sipped her tea, though it was impossible to tell if her approval was genuine or merely part of her own game. "Such sweetness," she commented, her sharp eyes flicking to Miller, who forced a tight smile.
"I want to see you both kiss," the old lady declared, leaning back comfortably on the sofa as if she'd asked for a refill of tea.
Miller froze. "Or... is the marriage false?" Madam Montgomery asked, her voice dangerously sweet.
"I... I haven't brushed my teeth this morning," Miller blurted out, a desperate, last-ditch attempt to escape.
"It's fine. I'm sure Devion can kiss you that way," she said, her gaze shifting to her grandson.
"Of course, Grandma," Devion replied without hesitation.
Miller looked at him in sheer shock, her composure crumbling. He leaned in close, his breath ghosting her ear. "We signed a contract last night," he whispered.
She was confused at first, but her eyes soon widened in realization. "That doesn't mean I would agree to a kiss," she whispered back through gritted teeth.
"Then you will have to pay me a million dollars," he countered, his voice a low, infuriating murmur.
She clenched her fists, her knuckles white. If her glare could kill, he would have been reduced to ashes on the spot.
"Close your eyes. It will be over in a second," he coaxed, clearly enjoying her turmoil.
With the greatest dissatisfaction, Miller squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. For a few seconds, she felt nothing, and she cautiously opened them, only for him to capture her lips at that exact moment. She gasped in surprise, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss, invading her senses as if his very life depended on it. It was an act he had secretly longed for, and it was everything he'd imagined. He kissed her until her thoughts scattered, one hand slipping around her waist to pull her closer, until she was breathless and had to push him away. Her face was a brilliant, furious shade of red.
Old Madam Montgomery clapped her hands together softly. "That was beautiful, I would say." She then added, with a glint in her eye, "I should be getting a grandchild very soon, then."
"We have decided to wait, Grandma," Miller said immediately, her voice slightly breathless. "Until the both of us are ready for a child."
"I'm sure you both are ready; the Montgomerys can't wait," she said, rising to her feet with finality. "Make sure you bring your wife to Old Luther's banquet," she instructed Devion.
"Definitely, Grandma," Devion assured her.
Satisfied, Old Madam Montgomery finally took her leave. The moment the door closed behind her, Miller shot up from the sofa, too flustered and embarrassed to remain, and hurried upstairs without a backward glance while Devion chuckled in delight.