The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Olivia

We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. The food was exactly what I needed, settling warmly in my stomach and chasing away the hollow feeling that had lingered since the hospital.

“How’s your father doing?” Alexander asked, breaking the silence.

“Stable. The surgery went well, but recovery will take time.” I twirled pasta around my fork. “Thanks again for arranging Dr. Weaver. The nurses said he never takes new patients.”

“He owed me a favor.”

“Must be nice having the world’s best cardiac surgeon in your debt.”

Alexander shrugged. “I donated a new wing to the hospital last year. Makes it easier to call in favors when needed.”

I paused mid–bite. “You donated an entire wing?”

Alexander nodded, seemingly unimpressed with his own generosity. “The pediatric cardiology wing. It needed updating.” He took a sip of water. “I regularly donate to hospitals, medical research, and children’s charities. It’s not just for the tax benefits.”

“That’s… actually really good of you.” I studied him with new eyes, trying to reconcile this philanthropist with the ruthless businessman who’d proposed our contract marriage.

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “Eat your food before it gets cold.”

I returned to my pasta, sneaking glances at him between bites. There were layers to Alexander Carter I hadn’t expected. The man who demanded a sex clause in our contract was the same one who ensured my father got the best surgeon in the

country.

“Your mind is loud,” Alexander said, breaking the silence.

I looked up, taken aback. “What?”

“I can practically hear you thinking.” He set his fork down and leaned back against my couch, his posture relaxed but his sharp. “Trying to figure me out?”

“Maybe, I admitted. “You’re… not what I expected.”

His lips quirked. “And what did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Some heartless corporate robot who only cares about money and power.”

“And now?”

I think you might

laughed. “High

go to

my face, lingering on my lips before meeting my

1/4

eyes

“I’m getting there.”

took

best for

with implications. Wife. Not girlfriend or fiancée, but wife. The full weight of our

keep staring,” I said,

interesting to look

to be a

He reached forward, his thumb gently brushing a

touch sent a

I expected,” Alexander said,

“Code for small.”

My place is

little rich boy,” I teased. “Your penthouse is

a showpiece,” he corrected. “Designed to impress, not

actual loneliness beneath that perfectly tailored exterior. For someone who

again,” he

to figure you

stretching across the back of my

you might actually be human under all that money and power.” I set my empty plate on the coffee table.

said with mock

me with that contract of

“The contract is practical. It protects

sex clause?”

eyes darkened. “Especially that

charged. I cleared my throat. “Want some wine? I think I

“Sure.”

moment felt oddly intimate, my fake fiancé lounging on my couch while I fetched wine like we’d

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