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.”

night. The woman in the little black dress with mascara streaks and a shattered heart versus the polished junior executive who’d just delivered

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Chapter 7

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long time,” he said finally, his voice

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

that might have been amusement. “Why don’t

office? The mythical top-floor sanctuary that junior exec- utives whispered about but never visited? Before I could formulate a response, Nova appeared at my

clutched to

you to-” She froze mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she registered Alexander standing there. “Oh! Mr. Carter.

wait.”

see a Nova-shaped cloud of dust

I said, suddenly aware of how dry

me at my lowest moment? I’d caught my boyfriend

about.

chime, leaving us

the top floor, and I tried not to fidget as we ascended in

said suddenly. “You have a solid grasp of social

surprised by the compliment. “It’s

never seen before. Unlike the bustling marketing department fifteen floors below, this space was hushed, with sleek furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of Los

behind a desk. “Mr. Carter,

guided me past reception with a light touch

office and more of a luxury apartment, minus the bedroom. A massive desk domi- nated one end, while a seating area with leather couches occupied another. A wet bar gleamed in the corner, and the views… dear God, the views. Los Angeles sprawled

drink?” he asked, moving toward

great.” I remained standing, uncertain of where to place myself in this vast