The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Alexander) novel Chapter 255

Chapter 255

Chapter 255

Olivia

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I stepped through the front door of the estate, the marble cool beneath my heels. The conversation with Victoria and Thomas still echoed in my head, their smug faces when they’d cornered us outside. For money, they were ready to do anything. Absolutely anything. Schemes, manipulation, and tearing down family members. All of it justified if it meant getting their hands on Carter Enterprises.

“Wine?” Alexander asked, already heading toward the study.

“God, yes.”

He poured two glasses, the burgundy liquid catching the light. I kicked off my heels and curled into the leather sofa, accepting the glass he offered.

“That was exhausting,” I muttered.

Alexander settled beside me, close enough that his thigh pressed against mine. “Victoria’s specialty. Making everything exhausting.”

“She really thinks we’re faking this.”

“Let her think whatever she wants.” He took a sip, his free hand finding my knee. “We know the truth.”

I didn’t respond to that, just drank deeply. The wine was excellent.

“You handled it well back there,” he continued. “Didn’t let her get under your skin.”

“She tried.”

“She always does.”

We sat in comfortable silence, finishing our wine. Alexander poured us each another glass without asking.

“Your grandfather seemed suspicious too,” I said finally.

“Grandfather’s always suspicious. It’s how he built an empire.”

“Think he’ll figure it out?”

Alexander’s jaw tightened. “There’s nothing to figure out. We’re married. That’s all that matters.”

I wanted to point out the distinction between being married and having a real marriage, but the wine was warming my blood, and I was tired of semantics.

“Come here,” Alexander said, setting his glass down.

I shifted closer. He pulled me onto his lap, my back against his chest, his arms circling my waist.

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Chapter 255

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“Better,” he murmured against my hair.

We stayed like that for a while, drinking wine and not talking. His hands moved lazily along my sides, not quite sexual but definitely possessive.

“You’re tense,” he observed.

“Long day. Long week.”

“I can help with that.”

His mouth found my neck, kissing slowly. I tilted my head, giving him better access. The wine and his lips were making everything fuzzy around the edges in the best way.

“Alex…”

“Mm?”

“We should eat something.”

“Probably.” But he didn’t stop kissing my neck, his teeth grazing my pulse point.

I turned in his lap, straddling him. His hands immediately gripped my hips, pulling me closer.

“Thought you were hungry,” he said, his eyes dark.

“Changed my mind.”

The next morning, I woke alone. The sheets beside me were cool; Alexander was already gone for the day.

I showered and dressed, finding Alfred in the kitchen with coffee and pastries.

“Good morning, Mrs. Carter.”

“Morning, Alfred.” I poured coffee, black and strong. “Has Alexander been gone long?”

“Since six, I believe. He was quite focused this morning.”

I bet. Those articles were everywhere, painting me as some corporate spy sleeping my way to information. My phone had been blowing up with messages from Emilia, my parents, and even old college friends asking if I was okay.

By noon, most of the articles had disappeared. The few that remained carried updates noting the photos were misleading and taken out of context. Alexander’s press release was professional and firm, threatening legal action against anyone continuing to publish defamatory content.

I refreshed my browser one more time, watching another major outlet pull their story entirely. The speed was impressive. Money and power, I was learning, could erase problems faster than the delete button on my keyboard.

I stretched, my shoulders protesting from being hunched over for the past hour. The Thompson project files

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Chapter 255

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sat in neat stacks across my desk, photos from the site visits organized chronologically, vendor proposals color–coded by priority.

I dove back into work, losing myself in spreadsheets and projections. The numbers told a story, one of steady growth and increasing brand awareness. By the time I looked up again, the office had gone quiet, the afternoon sun slanting through my windows at a sharp angle.

I saved my work, backed everything up to the cloud, and grabbed my bag. The drive home was longer than usual, and it was congested with people.

Upstairs, I kicked off my heels and peeled out of my work clothes, trading them for soft leggings and an oversized sweater. My feet thanked me immediately.

I found myself wandering into the library, running my fingers along the spines of leather–bound books until I found one that caught my eye. Some thriller about corporate espionage that felt a little too on the nose, given

recent events.

I curled up on the leather sofa, tucking my feet underneath me as I cracked open the book. The words pulled me in quickly, the plot twisting in ways I didn’t expect.

I was three chapters deep when I heard Alexander’s footsteps in the hallway.

“There you are,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Been looking for you.”

I glanced up from the book. “Hi. How was your day?”

“Long.” He loosened his tie, crossing the room to sit beside me. “What are you reading?”

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