The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Alexander) novel Chapter 213

Olivia

The cathedral was breathtaking up close, every inch covered in intricate marble carvings and statues. Hundreds of spires jutted skyward, each topped with its own sculpture. The facade alone could have kept me occupied for hours.

"It's impressive," Alexander admitted, tilting his head back to take in the full height.

"Impressive? That's all you've got?" I elbowed him gently. "This took nearly six centuries to complete. Six centuries of artisans pouring their lives into creating something beautiful."

"When you put it that way, yes, it's extraordinary." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Want to go inside?"

The interior was just as stunning as the exterior promised. Enormous columns stretched toward vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows cast colored light across the stone floor, and everywhere I looked revealed new details to admire.

"Oh my god," I breathed, spinning slowly to take it all in. "This is incredible."

Alexander watched me with that expression he got sometimes, the one I couldn't quite decipher. "You really love this stuff, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." I moved toward one of the massive columns, running my fingers over the cool stone. "All these people who lived centuries ago, who created these beautiful things that outlasted them. It makes you think about what you're leaving behind."

"Still working on that legacy question?"

"Aren't we all?" I turned back to him. "What do you think people will say about Alexander Carter in a hundred years?"

He considered the question seriously. "Hopefully that he built something that mattered. That he made smart decisions and treated people fairly."

"See? You do think about legacy."

"Hard not to when you're standing in a building that took six hundred years to complete."

We spent an hour exploring the cathedral before emerging back into the bright Milan sunshine. The piazza in front of the Duomo was crowded with tourists and locals alike, street performers entertaining clusters of onlookers.

He led me to a hidden side street where a small restaurant awaited, the kind you'd only discover with insider knowledge. An older woman greeted Alexander like family, kissing both his cheeks enthusiastically.

"Alessandro! Finalmente! Too long, troppo lungo!" She turned to me with sparkling eyes. "And who is this bellissima?"

"Nonna Rosa, this is Olivia. My wife."

"Moglie!" Nonna Rosa clasped her hands together. "Finally, this one settles down. I tell him every time, 'Alessandro, you need a good woman, not these—'" she made a dismissive gesture. "Sit, sit. I bring you everything."

We didn't even get menus. Nonna Rosa simply started bringing food. Course after course appeared, each more delicious than the last.

After lunch, we wandered through the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, the stunning shopping arcade connecting the Duomo to La Scala opera house. The vaulted glass ceiling soared overhead, allowing natural light to flood the elegant space, lined with luxury boutiques.

"This is gorgeous," I said, tilting my head back to admire the intricate ironwork supporting the glass dome. "Look at the mosaics in the floor."

Alexander pulled me to a stop in the center of the gallery, where the floor was adorned with elaborate zodiac mosaics. "There's a tradition here. You're supposed to spin on the bull's testicles for good luck."

"I'm sorry, what?"

He pointed to the Taurus zodiac sign, where indeed, one particular spot on the bull was worn smooth from countless visitors. "It's good luck. Everyone does it."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"When in Milan," Alexander said with a grin.

I sighed dramatically but positioned myself on the worn spot and spun three times, nearly losing my balance on the third rotation. Alexander caught me, laughing.

"Happy now?" I asked, slightly dizzy.

"Very. Now we're guaranteed good fortune."

"Or dizzy wives. One of the two."

We continued through the gallery, window shopping at stores I couldn't normally afford, even with my new salary. Alexander kept trying to pull me into boutiques, but I resisted.

"I don't need anything," I protested as he steered me toward a Prada store.

"Need and want are different things."

The intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. Before I could respond, my phone buzzed with a work call.

"I need to take this," I said, grateful for the interruption. "It's Dylan."

Alexander nodded and wandered toward a nearby shop window while I answered.

"Hey, Dylan, what's up?"

"Sorry to bother you on vacation, but we have a situation with the Thompson account. The social media team accidentally posted the wrong campaign images this morning."

"What? How did that happen?"

"Human error. They grabbed the wrong folder. It's already been live for three hours."

"Shit." I pressed my free hand to my forehead. "Okay, pull everything down immediately. Send me the correct assets and I'll review them before anything else goes live."

"Already done. Just wanted to give you a heads up before Mr. Thompson notices."

"Thanks, Dylan. I owe you one."

After hanging up, I found Alexander examining a display of watches.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Work disaster. Nothing I can't handle remotely, but I need to get back to the hotel and deal with it."

"Let's go."

Back at the Four Seasons, I spent three hours firefighting the social media crisis while Alexander worked on his own laptop across the suite. When I finally closed my computer, exhausted and slightly frazzled, he was waiting with a glass of wine.

"All fixed?"

"For now." I accepted the wine gratefully.