The CEO's Contractual Wife

“I’ve taken the liberty of organizing your calendar for the rest of the week,” he said, showing me his tablet. “You have a department meeting tomorrow at 10, a budget review at 2, and a check–in with Michelle on Friday about the Thompson project.”

“Impressive,” I admitted. “What about today?”

“Clear except for a 4:30 call with HR about your benefits package.”

“Perfect. After that call, I’d like you to set up a team meeting for tomorrow afternoon. I need to assemble a group for the Thompson project.”

“Any specific people in mind?”

I rattled off a list of names from different departments, digital, creative, analytics, and PR, that I wanted on my team. Dylan’s fingers flew across his tablet as he took notes.

“And I’ll need access to the executive marketing servers,” I added.

“Already requested.” He smiled. “It should be set up by tomorrow morning.”

“You’re good at this,” I said, genuinely impressed.

“That’s the idea.” He stood, adjusting his impeccably tailored blazer. “Anything else before I head down to prepare for the team meeting?”

“That’s all for now. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

After Dylan left, I returned to the Thompson brief, jotting down ideas for their new brand positioning. The work absorbed me completely until my phone buzzed with a calendar notification for the HR call.

The call was brief and straightforward, updating my benefits package to reflect my new position. After hanging up, I returned to my notes, determined to get a rough concept outline before leaving.

I worked steadily for another hour, lost in the creative process. The office gradually quieted as people filtered out for the day. I was sketching a potential logo redesign when I felt a presence at my door.

Looking up, I saw Alexander leaning against the doorframe, his tie loosened and jacket draped over one arm. He’d rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing muscular forearms that reminded me of how easily he’d lifted me against him during our honeymoon.

“Working late already, Mrs. Carter?” he asked, his voice low and rich.

“I was just wrapping up,” I said, setting down my pen. “Lost track of time.”

common affliction around here.” He stepped into my office, closing the door behind him. “How was

chair. “Michelle put me

rose. “That’s a

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7:58 pm P DD

Chapter 126

something real

hands settled on my shoulders, thumbs pressing into the knots that had

he murmured. “You’re brilliant at what you do

my eyes, unable to resist leaning into his touch. “I think that’s the

me.”

my tense muscles. “Most of them were

I scolded, but without

down my arms. “Ready to go home? I thought we

you have in

LA’s

six. We should probably head home to

exactly.” He stepped back, allowing me to gather my things. “I have a surprise for you at

an eyebrow. “You’re full

me toward the

telling me about his day and the board meeting. I found myself genuinely interested in the company politics he

the gates. “She kept suggesting the Thompson Hotels account should go to her team

bitter about our marriage ruining her chances at

the house rather than in the garage. “Or she won’t. Either way, she’s

the house was quiet and peaceful. I kicked off my heels in the foyer with

upstairs,” Alexander said, loosening his tie. “Your surprise

bed?” I teased. “Because I might need a

“Not quite. Go

across our bed and hanging from racks that had been brought in were at least twenty stunning dresses, all with

running my fingers over the fabrics. Silk, chiffon, beaded embellishments,