The CEO's Contractual Wife

Victoria

Rain tapped against the floor–to–ceiling windows of my penthouse as I swirled the dark red wine in my glass. The city lights blurred through the droplets, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that matched my turbulent thoughts.

I took another sip, savoring the rich cabernet. At least I could count on this thousand–dollar bottle to deliver satisfaction, unlike my current schemes.

Behind me, the balcony door slid open. Thomas stepped out, the cool night air following him as he closed the door. He was still in his work clothes, though he’d loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar.

“Drinking alone again?” he asked, settling into the chair beside me.

I didn’t look at him. “There’s another glass inside if you want to join me.”

Thomas disappeared briefly, returning with a full glass. He sat down and crossed his legs, looking annoyingly relaxed for someone whose wife was plotting a corporate takeover.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?” he asked after a lengthy silence. “You’ve barely touched your phone all evening, which means either you’re plotting something or the world is ending.”

I shot him a sideways glance. “Carter Enterprises.”

“Ah.” He nodded knowingly. “Still obsessing over your cousin’s new marriage?”

“I’m not obsessing,” I snapped. “I’m strategizing.”

Thomas took a slow sip of his wine. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

The rain picked up, creating a soothing white noise that contrasted with my irritation.

‘You don’t understand what’s at stake,” I said. “The controlling shares of a multi–billion dollar company. My birthright.”

“Your birthright?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure Alexander is Harold’s firstborn grandson, not you.”

‘Gender shouldn’t matter in succession,” I retorted. “I’m smarter, more qualified, and actually committed to the company’s legacy.”

Thomas leaned back in his chair. “So what’s the plan? Are you planning to destroy Carter Enterprises if you can’t have it?”

meant to. “I’m being

rubbed his arm, looking wounded. “Destroying might be true.

“Give me some credit! I don’t want to destroy the company. I

beat you to the

my wine glass down with more force than

you possibly

forward, warming to my theory. “Until Grandfather

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dating anyone seriously. Then suddenly, what, a few weeks later, he’s madly in love with some nobody from marketing? They appear all over social media, and now

overthinking this. Maybe they were dating secretly. Maybe he fell in love

never been in love with anyone but himself and that company.

Thomas countered. “What if they’re actually in love? Did you see them at the wedding? They

at in boardrooms.

reaching,” he said, taking another sip of wine. “Maybe it’s time

or trying to drag me down?” I demanded, my voice

his hands in surrender. “I’m trying to help you not get admitted to a mental hospital with all this overthinking. You’re seeing conspiracies where

story?” I laughed bitterly. “Between my cousin and

happened,” Thomas shrugged.

He’s too careful, too calculating.” I picked up my wine again. “There’s something off

situation.”

you’re right,” Thomas said, “what can you do

thinly. “Only if they stay married for a year. That’s the stipulation in

you think they’ll divorce

little help, perhaps they will.” I took a long sip of my

at me with alarm.

going to do anything illegal. Just… apply a

union.”

dangerously close

prefer to call it ‘strategic intervention,” I replied. “If their