The CEO's Contractual Wife

Olivia

Saturday morning brought a cloudy sky and a text from Alexander: “Car will pick you up at 5 PM. Wear something casual. Bringing you to my place first.”

I stared at the message, my stomach doing that annoying flip it always did when Alexander texted. Tonight was the night I’d meet his family. The Carters. The people who could potentially become my in–laws through this bizarre arrangement.

“Fuck,” I muttered, dropping my phone on the kitchen counter.

I spent the day in a state of controlled panic, cleaning my already tidy apartment and trying not to overthink the evening ahead. By four o’clock, I’d showered, blow–dried my hair into submission, and applied light makeup. The “casual” directive from Alexander left me standing in front of my closet, scowling at my options.

“Casual for normal people or casual for millionaires?” I asked my reflection, holding up a simple black dress against my body.

I finally settled on dark jeans, a silk camisole, and a blazer. They were elegant enough to look put–together but not like I was trying too hard. My buzzer rang precisely at five, and I grabbed my purse, taking one last look in the mirror.

“You can do this,” I told myself firmly. “It’s just dinner with your fake fiancé’s family. No big deal.”

The driver was waiting with the car door open when I stepped outside. The sleek black Bentley looked ridiculously out of place on my street, drawing curious stares from my neighbors.

“Ms. Morgan,” the driver nodded politely. “Mr. Carter is expecting you.”

The ride to Alexander’s penthouse was mercifully quick. I spent it watching the city blur past, rehearsing imaginary conversations with his family in my head. What would they ask? What should I say? How much did they know about me?

When we arrived, the doorman greeted me by name.

“Good evening, Ms. Morgan. Mr. Carter is waiting for you upstairs.”

The elevator whisked me up to the penthouse, its mirrored walls reflecting my anxious expression back at me. I took a deep breath as the doors slid open, revealing Alexander’s stunning apartment.

was standing by the floor–to–ceiling windows, phone pressed to his ear, looking out at the sprawling city below. The late afternoon sun cast him in silhouette, highlighting his broad shoulders and tall frame. He turned at the sound of the elevator, his eyes finding

call you back,” he said into the phone, ending the call without waiting for a

into his space. “You said casual,

deliberate. “Perfect. But we need to

adjustment?” I asked, instantly

me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. “I’ve

outfit?” I gestured down at my

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Chapter 74

he said, his eyes traveling over me in a way that

I’d seen before. The space still overwhelmed me with its boutique-

a garment bag hanging prominently on a rack. “This just

a stunning emerald green dress. The fabric looked impossibly

breathed, reaching out to touch the material. “It’s

he urged,

had to be incredibly expensive fabric. The dress was clearly designer, with meticulous construction and details I couldn’t even

out a matching set of lingerie. The deep emerald bra and panties were delicate lace, clearly designed to work perfectly with the neckline and cut of the

as he handed them to

requires specific undergarments,” he said matter–of–factly. “The lines would show

brushing. A jolt of electricity shot

outside,” he said, stepping toward

I replied, surprising

but he complied, turning to face the wall. I quickly shed my clothes, feeling strangely powerful as I

lace caressing my skin. The bra cupped my breasts perfectly, lifting them just enough