The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

My alarm blared at 6:00 AM, jolting me awake. I fumbled for my phone, silencing it with a groan. Sunlight streamed through my thin curtains, casting a golden glow across my bedroom.

In the shower, hot water cascaded over my shoulders, casing the tension I’d been carrying. I lathered shampoo into my hair, trying to focus on the day ahead rather than Alexander’s proposition.

Standing before my closet, I rifled through my work clothes. I pulled out a navy pencil skirt and cream blouse, then hesitated. My hands drifted to a more form-fitting burgundy dress I rarely wore.

“What am I doing?” I muttered, pushing the dress aside and returning to my original choice.

I selected a matching set of black lace underwear, then paused. “Why am I even thinking about this? It’s just a normal workday.”

I slipped into the clothes quickly, applied minimal makeup, and headed to the kitchen. Instead of my usual granola bar on the go, I made a proper breakfast-scrambled eggs, toast, and sliced fruit. I even brewed coffee instead of buy- ing my usual overpriced latte.

“Look at me, being a responsible adult,” I said to my empty apartment, raising my coffee mug in a mock toast.

The cab ride to Carter Enterprises was uneventful. I spent it scrolling through emails, mentally preparing for the day ahead. The marketing department had a campaign launch for athletic wear next week, and we were behind schedule.

At the office, I dove straight into work.

I spent the morning reviewing mockups for the campaign. The colors were off, and the tagline needed work.

By lunchtime, I had a revised concept that actually excited me.

At 2:30 PM, my phone buzzed with a message.

Alexander: My office. Now.

as if everyone

I whispered,

What would I say to him? I still hadn’t decided about his proposal. Part

Alexander’s secretary, a stylish woman in her twenties, looked up as I

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16:44

Chapter 20

for you.” She gestured toward the

deep breath, knocked once, and entered the lion’s

as I entered, and my traitor heart skipped a beat. In a charcoal suit that fit him like it was molded

I stepped into his office. “You look

“You look… nice as well.” Why did I say that? He

the sleek

edge of the couch, my back straight, hands folded in

out casually, as if we were old friends meeting for coffee instead of boss and employee

made your decision?” He asked, getting straight

my mind all night,

locked

“But I have concerns about certain aspects of

an eyebrow.

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