Back then, he met Ethan Bolton through a blind date. Before meeting Ethan Bolton, he had gone on dates with others, including this Mr. ThompsonJames Thompson. At the time, neither of them was interested, so it ended without a result. All these years, Ethan Bolton had never cared about it, and never expected that now, of all times, this old story would be brought up.

Before he could open his mouth to explain, Ethan Bolton suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into his arms, forcing a mouthful of red wine down his throat without giving him a chance to protest.

Ryan Carter smacked his lips. The taste was pretty good, so he took another sip from his husband's hand.

"Such a little glutton." The CEO recited the classic line with a teasing tone.

"Pfft—" Ryan Carter spat out a mouthful of red wine, staining the white shirt on his chest.

"Ah, I forgot to give you two the invitations. The day after tomorrow is our company's new product launch..." Mr. Thompson, who had returned, pushed open the door and saw the scene of the little wife being "mistreated," and was stunned on the spot.

Chapter 6: The CEO's Million-Dollar Bride (6)┃Ryan Carter's phone rang, displaying the name "Dad"

James Thompson was a second-generation rich kid. In his reckless youth, he loved to party and often hung out with his rowdy friends, so he knew exactly what the scene before him meant.

He had a friend who liked to play with innocent schoolgirls. Schoolgirls usually couldn't hold their liquor, and that friend loved this part the most: grabbing the girl's face and forcing a glass of red wine down her throat, watching her helplessly choke and cough, wine spraying from her mouth and nose, soaking her clothes, while the group of friends would jeer and laugh.

This kind of lowly trick, only used on bar girls, was something he never expected Ethan Bolton would use to torment Ryan Carter.

Ryan Carter was a proper second-generation rich kid, wealthy and influential. And Ethan Bolton was a self-made rising star in the business world. How could he, how dare he treat someone like this!

"Ethan Bolton, what are you doing!" James Thompson stormed over in anger and yanked Ryan Carter up.

Ethan Bolton's gaze instantly turned cold, his voice squeezed out through gritted teeth: "Good, very good, getting all handsy right in front of me, hmm?"

Ryan Carter had a headache and patted James Thompson's shoulder: "James, it's fine, it's fine, we were just messing around."

"Messing around?!" Mr. Thompson pointed at the large wet stain, exasperated. "You don't go out much, so you don't understand these things. Do you know what he's doing to you..."

"Enough!" The CEO couldn't take it anymore, yanked his little wife back into his arms, and wrapped him tightly in his suit jacket. The soaked shirt clung to his body, revealing the lines of his muscles and faint little spots. And this guy still had the nerve to point fingers.

"I choked on it myself, it's not what you think." Ryan Carter poked his head out from the suit, his eyes still red from choking earlier. Curled up in the tyrant's arms, he looked pitiful, yet still tried hard to maintain the family's image to outsiders.

Mr. Thompson gradually calmed down and sighed. They were a legally married couple, after all, and it was a family matter—he, as an outsider, shouldn't interfere. He silently put down two invitations and left, shaking his head. So all those rumors about Ethan Bolton being henpecked and a good man were just a facade put on by this scheming guy.

The secretary poked her head in to close the door, caught sight of the two clinging together like conjoined twins, and, seeing her boss's face as black as the bottom of a pot, her jaw nearly hit her collarbone: "S-sorry, CEO, I thought since Mr. Thompson just left a minute ago and came back, it would be fine, so I didn't knock..."

"Get out!" Ethan Bolton's voice was full of sparks.

"Bang!" The door closed, and the room fell silent, leaving only the sound of their breathing.

Another new shirt ruined. Ryan Carter pushed away the tightly clinging Ethan Bolton, pinched the wet fabric at his chest, and felt a bit regretful. With this kind of high-end material, once it's stained with red wine, it's basically impossible to clean.

"Ding-dong"—the smart assistant notified him of a new message. Ryan Carter tapped it open, and the virtual screen displayed the content.

[James Thompson: If you need any help, remember to ask.]

"..." So now he was being treated like a battered husband. Ryan Carter twitched his lips.

"Whose message?" Ethan Bolton looked over. The smart assistant was connected to his neurons, so unless he shared the screen, only he could see the content.

"No one." Ryan Carter didn't want to talk and turned to head to the bathroom. If he brought up James Thompson now, the CEO would explode.

Ethan Bolton narrowed his eyes, watching his little wife trying to dodge him. Sure enough, he must be secretly contacting the Wang family. He closed his eyes, then grabbed the little thing trying to escape and tossed him onto the sofa.

"What now?" Ryan Carter got up, only to be hugged from behind by Ethan Bolton, who began unbuttoning his wet shirt one button at a time.

"Continuing what we didn't finish earlier." The CEO laughed ambiguously, sliding the little wife's shirt down to his elbows, then picked up the unfinished red wine and poured it all over that beautifully curved back.

"Mmm..." The cool wine trickled down his spine, then was licked up by warm lips and tongue. Ryan Carter went weak all over, being kneaded and caressed by Ethan Bolton. When he was done, he tossed him a clean shirt.

"Put on mine for now." The CEO pulled out a spare shirt from the lounge. It was a size bigger than Ryan Carter's, hanging loosely on his body, just enough to cover his butt.