The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 181

After we finished our meal, Alexander insisted on leaving a tip that probably exceeded Dottie’s weekly salary. Back in his car, I felt pleasantly full and oddly content.

“Admit it,” I said as we pulled back onto the road. “That was better than any five–star restaurant dessert.”

“It had its charms.” His hand found mine on the console between us. “Especially the company.”

“Smooth talker.”

“Just honest.” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I like seeing different sides of you, Olivia.”

“Even when I’m stealing your fries?”

“Especially then.”

We drove through the quiet streets of Los Angeles, the city transformed in the small hours of the morning. There was something magical about being awake while the world slept, like we were sharing a secret.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I ventured as we turned onto the coast road.

“Of course.”

“Before everything… us… what did you really want in life?”

Alexander was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Success, I suppose. To prove myself worthy of the Carter name.”

“And now?”

He glanced at me, his expression softening. “Now I’m learning there might be more to life than quarterly reports and board meetings.”

“Like midnight burgers?”

midnight burgers with

warmth spreading through my chest. It wasn’t a declaration of love; neither of us was ready for that, but it felt

the house stood dark and silent. Alexander turned off the engine, but

tonight,” I said softly. “All of it.

me there’s life outside of work.” He turned to face me, his expression serious in

should do it more often

His hand reached up to brush a strand of

tension. I leaned

his nickname for me sending a shiver down my

I replied, just

our earlier kisses at the overlook, this wasn’t fueled by urgent desire but something quieter, more profound. His hand cradled my face

against my lips, his voice husky with

his hand

Alexander flicked on a single lamp, bathing the room in soft golden light. He turned to

here,” he commanded

the room to him, my heart hammering against my ribs. His fingers traced the curve of my cheek,

how fucking

until I could feel every hard line of

Alexander murmured, his fingers finding

button with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving mine. When the last button gave way, he pushed the fabric aside, revealing

fingers along the edge of the lace.

prickled with goosebumps wherever his fingers trailed. He slid the blouse from my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a whisper of silk. His hands moved

to say, my fingers fumbling

me help

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