The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 7

Our director began the presentation, introducing the campaign and the team behind it. When my turn came, I stepped forward on shaky legs.

“Good morning,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt. “I’ll be walking you through our social media strategy for the new product line.”

I clicked on the first slide, focusing on the familiar material rather than the gray eyes I could feel watching me. As I spoke, my confidence grew. This was my territory. I knew these numbers, these platforms, these strategies inside and

out.

Halfway through my section, I dared to look directly at Alexander. His expression was unreadable as he studied me, head slightly tilted. When our eyes met, though, something seemed to change in his face.

I thought I saw recognition flicker in those steel-gray eyes. His lips parted just a bit, and for a fleeting moment, it al- most looked as if he was genuinely surprised, or maybe I just imagined it.

I faltered for just a second before pushing forward, explaining the projected engagement metrics for Instagram. When I glanced back at him, he leaned toward one of his assistants, saying something while still watching me.

I finished my section and handed it off to Vivian, returning to my seat with my heart pounding. Throughout the rest of the presentation, I could feel Alexander’s gaze returning to me, but I kept my eyes firmly on whoever was speaking.

When the presentation concluded, our director asked for questions. Alexander spoke for the first time.

“Impressive work,” he said, his deep voice instantly recognizable. “Particularly the social media strategy. Very inno- vative approach.”

My cheeks burned as several colleagues glanced my way. The director beamed, thanking him for his attendance and feedback.

As the room began to clear, I gathered my notes quickly, planning a strategic retreat. I’d almost made it to the door when I heard his voice behind me.

“Ms. Morgan, isn’t it?”

I turned slowly, finding Alexander standing just a few feet away, hands in his pockets. His expression was neutral, but his eyes held a glint of something I couldn’t identify.

“Yes, sir,” I managed. “Olivia Morgan.”

I wondered if he was comparing the professional, composed version with the one he had met that night. The woman in the

0.0%

16:41

Chapter 7

288 Vouchers

voice low enough that only

“Long time?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Was his brain wired wrong? It had been less than a week since he’d driven me home from the worst night of

might have been amusement.

His office? The mythical top-floor sanctuary that junior exec- utives whispered about but never visited? Before I

to her

eyes widening as she registered Alexander standing there. “Oh! Mr. Carter.

wait.”

to see a

aware of how dry my mouth

lowest moment? I’d caught my boyfriend

about.

chime, leaving us alone in

the top floor, and I

“You have a solid

you,” I managed, surprised by the compliment. “It’s kind of my

the bustling marketing department fifteen floors below, this space was hushed, with sleek furniture and

bun looked up from behind a desk. “Mr. Carter, your three

touch on

area with leather couches occupied another.

drink?” he asked, moving toward the

remained standing, uncertain of where to place