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.”

office, closing the door behind him. “How was

in my chair. “Michelle put me in charge of the Thompson

eyebrows rose. “That’s a

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7:58 pm P DD

Chapter 126

give the gossipers something real to talk about

on my shoulders, thumbs pressing into

he murmured. “You’re brilliant at what you

into his touch. “I think that’s

me.”

my tense muscles. “Most of them were just about your body rather than

scolded, but

from my shoulders down my arms. “Ready to go home?

did you have in

one of LA’s most exclusive restaurants. “I

checked my watch. “It’s already six. We should probably head home

my things. “I have a

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re full

me toward the door with his hand at the small of my

and the board meeting. I found myself genuinely interested in the company politics he described,

hostile today,” he said as we pulled through the gates. “She kept suggesting the Thompson

bitter about our marriage ruining her chances at controlling the

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

was quiet and peaceful. I kicked off my heels

Alexander said, loosening his tie. “Your surprise is

it you naked on the bed?” I teased. “Because I might need

“Not quite. Go see for

our bedroom. When I opened the door, I gasped. Laid out across our bed

approached slowly, running my fingers over the fabrics. Silk, chiffon, beaded embellishments, all in different