The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 121

Chapter 121

Olivia

Alexander’s phone rang, interrupting whate

he

about to say next. He glanced at the screen and frowned.

“I need to take this,” he said, already walki

“Ward the door.

$59%

I turned back to the drawer and continued to sort through my underwear. Alexander’s voice drifted from the living room, his tone shifting from casual to commanding in an instant.

After a few minutes, he returned, looking agitated. “I have to go. There’s an emergency meeting with the board that I can’t miss.”

“Now? But we just started packing.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. Corporate bullshit waits for no man, not even on his honeymoon comedown.”

“It’s fine,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed. “I can handle this.”

Alexander checked his watch. “I’ll send

“I can call Emilia to help,” I sugg Ome movers tomorrow. Just focus on packing your personal items today.”

“Good idea.” He leaned down and kissed me quickly. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” I teased.

His eyes darkened. “Both. Definitely both.”

After Alexander left, I called Emilia, who arrived forty minutes later with wine and pizza.

With Emilia’s help, we did quick

on my bedroom. She was ruthless, creating a “donate” pile that grew alarmingly large.

some of my older furniture

coffee table, “but this would look like trash next

I laughed. “It

phone buzzed with a text from Alexander saying he was on his way home, Emilia waggled her eyebrows

want to be a third wheel

makeup sex,” protested, my cheeks heating.

sure you two fuck if he so much as brings you coffee.” She hugged me goodbye.

the rnove.”

with a twinge of nostalgia. This had been my first place on my own, my sanctuary after college. Leaving it felt like closing a chapter of my

arrived just as I finished taping up the last box of

he asked, loosening

the stacks of boxes. “I’m sending some

1/3

Chapter 121

He nodded approvingly.

the reality of my new life. By this time tomorrow, I’d be officially moved

husband.

arrived, Alfred greeted us at the door

a slight bow. “Chef

Alfred,” I replied, still uncomfortable with being waited

dismissed the butler with a nod and led

Packing works up an

e looke

what looked like gourmet pasta and some kind

I said, inhaling

doesn’t do leftovers. He leaves fresh

course he does,” I rolled my eyes. “Silly

chicken and creamy pasta, our small talk about the move made time slip away, an hour passed unnoticed as the versation flowed more easily

countertop and took my hand,

you a bath,” he said, his thumb tracing gentle circles across my knuckles.

eyebrow. “That’s

can be thoughtful,” he said, looking

you want something,” I

“And what if I do

the most luxurious bathtub I’d

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