Snowflakes danced wildly, as a dozen luxury cars were parked in front of Mansion Number Eight.
The rear door of the leading Koenigsegg opened slowly, and a man in a white suit stepped out from the car.
His figure was exquisitely beautiful, standing by the car door like a statue carved by God, aloof and noble, with an air of inaccessibility.
Yet this unapproachable man bent down, extending his long, fair fingers to the woman inside the car.
Those snow-cold eyes, upon touching upon the woman inside, were instantly tinged with a warm and tender smile.
It seemed that in his life, the only one who could occasionally draw out his gentleness was the little lady inside the car, dressed in a silver-white gown.
Alla placed her hand into his broad palm, leveraging his strength to step out of the car, and looked up at the mansion in front of her, adorned in simple European style.
