LOGINOlivia
I slept fitfully, my mind a carousel of images: Ryan's shocked face, Sophia's smug smirk, and, oddly, Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes watching me in the rearview mirror.
The weekend crawled by in a haze. I spent most of the time curled up on my couch, binging old movies, eating takeout, and ignoring the world, especially Ryan's desperate attempts to reach me. I let myself grieve, but by Sunday night, I was done crying; Ryan didn't deserve another tear. Monday morning arrived with brutal efficiency. I dragged myself into the shower, letting the hot water pound away the remnants of Friday night's disaster. No tears; I'd shed enough of those already. Ryan didn't deserve them. I wrapped myself in a towel and stared at my closet. What does one wear after catching their boyfriend balls-deep in another woman? I opted for armor: a crisp white blouse, a black pencil skirt, and highest heels. The kind of outfit that said, "I'm fine, fuck you very much." The cab ride to Carter Enterprises took twenty minutes. I spent it scrolling through Ryan's increasingly desperate texts. "Baby, please let me explain" "It was a mistake." "Call me." "I love YOU, not her." Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Carter Enterprises occupied a gleaming sixty-story tower in downtown Los Angeles. I'd been working there for eight months as a junior marketing executive, and despite the drama of my personal life imploding, I still felt a flutter of pride walking through those glass doors. The elevator whisked me to the 42nd floor. I stepped into the marketing department, where Nova was already at her desk, sipping her usual triple-shot espresso. "Morning, sunshine!" she called, then squinted at me. "You look different. New lipstick?" "New life status. Single." I dropped my bag at my desk. Before Nova could respond, Vivian breezed in, her red curls bouncing as she walked. "Ladies, you won't believe the email I just got. Apparently, the big boss himself will be sitting in on our presentation this week." "Alexander Carter?" I nearly choked on the words. "The one and only," Vivian confirmed, perching on the edge of my desk. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? It's not like you'll have to talk to him." If only she knew. "I'm just surprised," I managed. "He doesn't usually attend department presentations." Alice arrived last, as usual, balancing a stack of folders and her phone. "Sorry, I'm late. The barista got my order wrong twice. What did I miss?" "Alexander Carter's coming to our presentation, and Olivia's single," Nova summarized. Alice's eyes widened. "What? Which one should I address first?" "The presentation," I said quickly. "It's more important." "Like hell it is," Nova swiveled her chair to face me fully. "Spill it, Morgan. What happened with Ryan?" I sighed, lowering my voice. "I caught him fucking Sophia at her birthday party." All three women froze. "Sophia Santos? The one whose party you rushed off to?" Vivian clarified, her mouth hanging open. I nodded. "That backstabbing cunt," Nova breathed. "I hope his dick falls off," Alice added, patting my shoulder. "That's almost verbatim what Emilia said," I laughed despite myself. "What did you do?" Vivian leaned in, hungry for details. "I dumped him on the spot and left. End of story." "Good for you," Nova said firmly. "You deserve someone who knows what he has." "Preferably someone with a bigger dick and a functioning moral compass," Alice suggested. "Can we please focus on work now?" I begged. "I have the social media analytics to finish before lunch." They reluctantly returned to their desks, but I caught them shooting me concerned glances throughout the morning. I buried myself in spreadsheets and engagement metrics, grateful for the distraction. The last thing I needed was to think about that night, including my unexpected encounter with Alexander Carter. The CEO of Carter Enterprises wasn't just my boss; he was a legend in the business world. Cold, calculating, brilliant. He'd taken his grandfather's company and transformed it into a multinational corporation in less than a decade. The tabloids occasionally linked him with models or actresses, but he was notoriously private. And I really, really didn't want him to connect the dots between the disheveled woman he'd rescued and Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. At lunch, we headed to the company cafeteria on the 30th floor. I scanned the room instinctively, relaxing when I didn't spot any tall, dark-haired executives. "So," Vivian said as we settled at our usual table, "tell us more about Friday. You rushed out of here like your ass was on fire." I poked at my salad. "Not much to tell. I got to the party, couldn't find Ryan, went looking for him, and found him bent over Sophia's dresser, drilling her like he was looking for oil." Nova snorted water through her nose. "Jesus, Liv! Warning next time." "What did you say?" Alice asked, leaning forward. "I asked if they'd been 'careful' and reminded him that monogamy is apparently very limiting." I stabbed a cherry tomato. "Then I told him to go fuck himself. Or Sophia. Whichever." "Queen shit," Vivian raised her water bottle in a toast. "To Olivia, who doesn't take crap from cheating assholes." "To Olivia," the others echoed. "Anything else interesting happened?" Alice asked. "Did you key his car? Throw drinks? Create a scene?" I hesitated. "No, nothing like that. Emilia and I just left." I couldn't bring myself to mention Alexander. It felt too surreal, too private somehow. The next few days passed in a blur of work and ignored calls from Ryan. I threw myself into the upcoming presentation, staying late to perfect the slides and rehearse my talking points. If Alexander Carter was going to be there, everything needed to be flawless. Not that he'd recognize me. He probably rescued women from creeps all the time. Why would he remember one random encounter? Thursday morning, I arrived early to set up the conference room. Our presentation on the new social media campaign was scheduled for 10 AM, and my stomach had been in knots since I woke up. "Relax," Nova said, adjusting the projector. "Carter probably won't even show up. These executives always have 'emergencies' that pull them away." "And if he does show up, he'll be on his phone the whole time," Vivian added, straightening the chairs. Alice arrived with a tray of coffee. "Or he'll leave halfway through. That's what happened at the last sales presentation." Their attempts at reassurance weren't helping. I couldn't shake the image of Alexander recognizing me, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he connected the dots between professional Olivia Morgan and the emotional wreck he'd driven home. By 9:55, the room was filled with marketing staff and a few executives I recognized from other departments. I took my position near the front, reviewing my notes one last time. At exactly 10 AM, the room fell silent. I looked up to see Alexander Carter striding through the door, followed by two assistants. He was even more imposing in his natural habitat with a charcoal suit perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, and his presence commanded attention effortlessly. He nodded to the room and took a seat in the back row. I quickly looked down at my notes, my heart hammering against my ribs.OliviaThe cathedral was breathtaking up close, every inch covered in intricate marble carvings and statues. Hundreds of spires jutted skyward, each topped with its own sculpture. The facade alone could have kept me occupied for hours. "It's impressive," Alexander admitted, tilting his head back to take in the full height. "Impressive? That's all you've got?" I elbowed him gently. "This took nearly six centuries to complete. Six centuries of artisans pouring their lives into creating something beautiful." "When you put it that way, yes, it's extraordinary." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Want to go inside?" The interior was just as stunning as the exterior promised. Enormous columns stretched toward vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows cast colored light across the stone floor, and everywhere I looked revealed new details to admire. "Oh my god," I breathed, spinning slowly to take it all in. "This is incredible." Alexander watched me with that expression he got somet
OliviaThe private jet's engines hummed as we descended through the clouds. Milan spread out beneath us, with all its terracotta roofs and medieval towers giving way to modern skyscrapers on the outskirts. "There," Alexander pointed out the window. "The Duomo. You can see the spires from here." I pressed my face closer to the glass, excitement bubbling up. "It's gorgeous even from up here." "Wait until you see it up close. The detail work is incredible." The landing was smooth, and within twenty minutes we were in another sleek black car, this time with an Italian driver named Marco who spoke rapid-fire English with a thick accent. "Benvenuti a Milano," Marco said enthusiastically. "First time?" "For me, yes," I replied. "He's been here a million times but never actually seen anything." Marco laughed, shooting Alexander a knowing look in the rearview mirror. "Ah, businessman. Always work, never play. This is no good." "My wife is determined to change that," Alexander said dryl
OliviaI moaned as he increased the pressure, his other hand still working my breast. The dual stimulation had pleasure building fast, coiling tight in my core. "Look at you," Alexander said, his eyes fixed on my face. "So gorgeous when you're turned on. I love watching your expressions, seeing what makes you feel good." Three fingers slid inside me without warning, stretching and filling me. I cried out, my hips rocking against his hand. "That's it," he encouraged. "Fuck my fingers. Show me how much you want it." His thumb found my clit while his fingers pumped in and out, curling to hit that perfect spot inside me. I was gasping, clutching his shoulders for support as the pleasure built. "You're close," Alexander observed, his voice rough. "I can feel your pussy clenching around my fingers. You going to come for me?" "Yes," I panted. "Don't stop, please don't stop." "Never," he promised, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me, Liv. Let me feel it." His thumb pressed down ha
Olivia"You're being awfully tender," I murmured, leaning into his touch as his fingers traced lazy patterns across my stomach. "I can be tender." His lips brushed my shoulder. "When the situation calls for it." "And this situation calls for it?" "After fucking you senseless? Yes, I'd say some aftercare is appropriate." I tilted my head back to look at him. "Aftercare. Listen to you using proper terminology." "I'm not a complete caveman." "Could've fooled me with how hard you just railed me." Alexander's hands stilled on my stomach. "Did I hurt you?" "No," I assured him quickly, covering his hands with mine. "God, no. That was incredible. I'm just giving you shit." "Good." His fingers resumed their gentle exploration, skimming up to cup my breasts. "Because I plan to do it again. Multiple times. We're in Paris, after all." "Paris, the city of love and aggressive sex." "Exactly." His thumbs brushed over my nipples, making them harden despite the warm water. "Though I'm think
Olivia"Someone's happy to see me," I teased. "Someone's been thinking about you all day." "Oh, really? During your boring meetings?" "Especially during my boring meetings." His hands gripped my hips. "Kept imagining what I'd do to you once they were over." "And what did you imagine?" Instead of answering, Alexander's mouth found mine. The kiss started slowly, almost teasing. His lips moved against mine with deliberate patience, like we had all the time in the world. But patience had never been his strong suit, and within seconds the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my toes curl. The warm bathwater lapped at our skin as I shifted in his lap, my hands finding purchase on his shoulders. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me steady as the kiss turned hungry. "Fuck, you taste good," he muttered against my mouth before nipping at my bottom lip. "It's the wine," I gasped when he released me. "No, it's you." His mouth moved to my neck, teeth scra
OliviaWe spent an hour there, me examining every window while Alexander watched with amused patience. When we finally left, the afternoon sun was warm on our faces. "Hungry?" Alexander asked. "Starving. Where are we eating tonight?" "There's this tiny bistro near our hotel. Nothing fancy, just really good French food." "Sounds perfect." Dinner was exactly what he'd promised: simple, classic French cuisine in a cozy space filled with locals rather than tourists. We shared escargot, duck confit, and a bottle of wine that Alexander insisted would change my life. "Well?" he asked as I took my first sip. "It's good," I admitted. "But life-changing might be overselling it." "Give it time. The wine needs to breathe, like our marriage." I nearly choked on my next sip. "Did you just compare wine to our marriage?" "Both need time to develop properly. Both improve with age. Both can give you a headache if you're not careful." "You're ridiculous." "You keep saying that." "Because yo







