The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 71

Olivia

Alexander took a sharp turn, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Victoria’s feeding them information to manipulate

you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Natasha was a woman I dated in Paris three years ago. It didn’t end well.”

“Define ‘didn’t end well.”

“She wanted more than I was willing to give.”

“Marriage?” I asked.

“Love,” he corrected, his voice flat.

The word hung between us, heavy with implication. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past.

“And the hidden room?”

Alexander’s mouth quirked up. “Not nearly as scandalous as they made it sound. It’s a private office where I keep sensitive business documents.”

“So not a sex dungeon filled with whips and chains?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Is that what you were imagining?”

My cheeks burned. “No!”

“Liar,” he said, but his tone was playful. “You’re disappointed it’s just boring paperwork, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” I muttered, fighting a smile.

We fell into comfortable silence as he navigated through downtown LA. The stain on my top had started to dry, turning sticky against my skin.

mean by ‘contract girlfriends‘?” I finally asked,

darkened. “Victoria’s trying to plant seeds of doubt. She knows

a contractual relationship before?”

arrangements with women in the past. Mutually beneficial relationships with clear expectations and endpoints. I prefer women who

me,” I said

at

helping you secure your inheritance instead of just

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8:06 pm

Chapter 71

you,” he countered. “The others were transactions.

in my head. Contract girlfriends. A pattern.

Alexander’s voice cut through my thoughts.

stopped outside my

I mumbled, gathering my purse. “Thanks for

“Of course.”

+23

on the door handle. I’d agreed to this arrangement. His past relationships, contractual or otherwise, didn’t matter. I would be his wife on paper, get the money for my family, and after the contract ended, I’d start my new life.

Transactional. No emotions

did those women’s

thinking too hard,” Alexander said, studying my face in the dim light of

smile.

friends get to you.

fine.” I pushed open the

cut the engine,

What are you doing?”

He was already out of the car, circling around to my

he extended

‘Humor me.”

after the warmth of his car. We walked in silence to the building entrance, our footsteps echoing on

we reached my apartment, I was acutely aware of how different our worlds were. His penthouse with its floor–to- ceiling windows and personal chef versus my small apartment with the leaky faucet and temperamental

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