The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 22

Olivia

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and I stepped inside, grateful to find it empty. As soon as the doors closed, I sagged against the wall, my legs suddenly weak.

“What the fuck did I just do?” I muttered, running my hands through my hair. “How am I going to explain this to Mom and Dad?”

My mother would be thrilled I was getting married-until she realized the timeline. Marriage in what, a few weeks? She’d have questions. Lots of them.

And my dad… he was old-fashioned. He’d want to know Alexander’s intentions, his family background, his five-year plan.

My brothers would be even worse. Nicholas would immediately be suspicious. He could always tell when I was ly- ing. And Ethan would Google the hell out of Alexander, digging up every tabloid story about his playboy past.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I banged my head against the elevator wall.

How was I going to explain this to everyone? My family still thought I’d never dated anyone. They didn’t even know about Ryan – I’d planned to introduce him after we got more serious. Now I’d have to tell them I was marrying my boss?

I could already hear Mom’s voice: “But honey, we didn’t even know you were dating!”

I’d have to lie. Tell them Alexander and I had a secret relationship before, broke up, and now we’re madly in love again. More lies. Always more lies.

“And what happens after?” I whispered to my reflection in the polished doors. “When the contract ends and we di- vorce? Then what?”

Would I ever be able to have normal relationships after being with someone like him?

The elevator dinged at my floor. I straightened up, adjusting my clothes.

“One problem at a time, Olivia,” I muttered. “One fucking problem at a time.”

wear

name felt foreign, yet somehow intriguing. Would I get new business cards with that name emblazoned in sleek, minimalist

it,” I whispered, forcing my attention back to the

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share his space, his bed? My nipples hardened at the thought of his large hands on my breasts, his mouth trailing

my legs to ease the

week ago. I

Alexander wasn’t Ryan. He was… different. Powerful. Commanding. The kind of man who probably knew exact- ly how to make a

had said

shower, water droplets trailing down his chest, a towel slung low on his hips. Would he drop it deliberately, letting

rise to my cheeks. My pussy

I couldn’t think like this. This was a business arrangement, not

him night after night, made me desperate for his touch? Would I have to beg? The thought of

he had a strong sex drive. Would he expect me to drop to my knees whenever he wanted? To bend over his desk at the

it together,” I scolded myself, taking a

about money. About helping my family. Not about

what if the sex was incredible? What if

Nova’s voice cut through

jumped, nearly knocking over my

for like five minutes. Where the hell were you just now?” She leaned

protested too quickly. “I’m

look convinced. “So you weren’t just sitting there imagining Alexander Carter

his desk?”

Was I that

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