The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 82

Olivia

I padded to the bathroom, avoiding my reflection as I splashed cold water on my face. After using the toilet and brushing my teeth, I finally forced myself to look in the mirror.

“It was just a dream.” I told my reflection firmly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

My reflection didn’t look convinced.

I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, trying to make myself somewhat presentable before facing Alexander. The silk pajamas had twisted around my body during the night, the top unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of cleavage. I quickly fixed it, buttoning it all the way up to my neck.

The smell of coffee lured me out of the bedroom. I followed it to the kitchen, where I found Alexander standing at the counter, already dressed in jeans and a casual button–up shirt, his hair still damp from a shower.

“Morning,” he said, glancing up from his phone. “Coffee?”

“Please,” I replied, my voice still rough with sleep.

He poured a mug and slid it across the counter to me. Our fingers brushed during the exchange, and I nearly jumped at the contact, my dream still too fresh in my mind.

“Sleep well?” he asked, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“Fine,” I lied, taking a large gulp of coffee to hide my face. “You?”

“Very well. His eyes traveled over me, lingering on the silk pajamas. “You look good in blue.”

1 shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Thanks.”

“Hungry?” Alexander asked, moving to the kitchen with casual confidence. “I can make eggs. Or we could order something.”

“Eggs are fine,” I replied, following him. “I should probably head home after breakfast. I need to check on my dad.”

nodded, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator. “How is he

he’s recovering well.” I leaned against the counter, watching

at me. “I’m

Standing in his kitchen, discussing my

few weeks passed in a blur of work, family visits, and carefully orchestrated public appearances with

“relationship” became front–page news after we were spotted having dinner. The photos showed Alexander whispering something in my

We often spent evenings at Alexander’s penthouse, reviewing our “relationship timeline” and preparing for upcoming events. Weekends

1/3

8:07 pm

Chapter 82

No more sitting on his lap. Just the occasional

23

always: white picket fence, well–tended garden, and the welcome mat Dad insisted on keeping despite Mom’s protests.

his hand finding the small of

muttered. “Just remember, my dad’s still recovering. No stressing him

raised an eyebrow.

what I’m afraid

knock, revealing my mother in

into a hug before turning to Alexander.

flowers and a bottle of wine. “Thank you

wine with wide eyes. “You didn’t

replied smoothly.

Mom inside. Dad

his face crinkling into a smile as I

are you feeling,

a new man,” he replied, patting his chest. “Dr.