Olivia
He held out the folder. I didn't take it. My hands remained firmly in my lap, though I couldn't deny the curiosity building inside me.
"What is that?" I asked, eyeing the manila folder with suspicion. "A draft of our agreement. Not finalized, of course. I'd want your input on the terms." I laughed without humor. "You already had this drawn up? Before even speaking to me?" "I like to be prepared." He placed the folder on the coffee table between us. "Take it home, read it, and then decide." My curiosity got the better of me. I reached for the folder and flipped it open. The first page was a standard legal header, but what caught my eye was the figure: $1,000,000 to be transferred immediately upon signing. My eyes widened involuntarily. "Keep reading," Alexander prompted. I flipped through the pages, skimming the dense legal text. Promotion to Senior Marketing Strategist. Relocation to the Carter estate. Public appearances as a couple. The divorce settlement: $5,000,000. Then I reached a section that made my blood run cold. "Duration of marriage: minimum one year, with potential extension based on the circumstances..." "Extension?" I looked up sharply. "What does that mean?" "Just a precaution. If my grandfather becomes suspicious, we might need to extend." I continued reading, my face growing hotter with each paragraph. "Cohabitation in the same bedroom... public displays of affection... sexual relations as required to maintain the appearance of a normal marriage..." I slammed the folder shut. "Sexual relations? Are you kidding me?" Alexander didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. "It's a marriage, Olivia. People would expect certain things." "This isn't a marriage. It's a business transaction." I stood up, clutching the folder like it might bite me. "And you're not entitled to my body as part of that transaction." Alexander's jaw tightened. He rose from his seat with the fluid grace of a predator and took a step toward me. I instinctively backed up until my legs hit the couch behind me. "Let me be frank, Olivia." His voice dropped to a dangerous octave, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine. "I have needs. Strong ones. I'm not the type of man who goes without sex for extended periods." My face flamed. "That's not my problem." "It becomes your problem in this arrangement." He moved closer, his expensive and masculine cologne filling my senses. "If I'm seen visiting hotel rooms or bringing women to my house while married to you, people will talk. The tabloids will speculate. And eventually, my grandfather will discover our little charade." I swallowed hard, trying to ignore how my body was reacting to his proximity. "So what? Find someone else who's willing to fuck you on command." His eyes darkened at my crude language. "Is that what you think this is? Me ordering you to spread your legs whenever I snap my fingers?" "Isn't it?" I shot back, waving the contract. "It's right here in black and white." "You misunderstand." He stepped even closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "I'm not some monster who forces himself on unwilling women. But I am a man with a healthy sex drive who won't be celibate for a year or more while pretending to be happily married." My breasts felt suddenly heavy, my nipples tightening traitorously beneath my blouse. I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping he wouldn't notice. "This is supposed to be a business arrangement," I said, hating how breathless I sounded. "Not some twisted marriage of convenience." "Contractual wife. That's what you would be." "Putting a fancy label on it doesn't change what it is." "No?" He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The casual intimacy of the gesture made my skin tingle. "Then what would you call it?" I jerked away from his touch. "I'd call it prostitution with extra steps." Something flashed in his eyes: anger, maybe, or surprise that I'd speak to him so bluntly. Then it was gone, replaced by that cool, calculated gaze. "Take the contract home," he said, his voice even. "Read through it. If there are terms you want to negotiate, we can discuss them." I glanced down at the folder still clutched in my hands. "And the sex part?" "That's non-negotiable." The finality in his tone sent another unwelcome wave of heat through my body. "Think about it, Olivia. Five million dollars. Your father's surgery. Your brothers' needs are taken care of. All your debts wiped clean." How did he know about my brothers? The fact that he'd dug so deeply into my personal life should have terrified me. Instead, I felt a perverse thrill at being the focus of his attention. "I'll think about it," I said finally, needing to escape the charged atmosphere of his office. Alexander's expression hardened. "Don't take too long. I'm not a patient man, and there are other candidates I could approach." The idea of him proposing this arrangement to someone else sent an irrational spike of jealousy through me. What the hell was wrong with me? I didn't want this ridiculous arrangement, yet the thought of Alexander making this offer to another woman made my stomach clench. "Other candidates?" I heard myself ask before I could stop the words. Alexander's lips curved into a knowing smirk that made me want to slap him. Or kiss him. God, I was losing my mind. "You didn't think you were the only option, did you?" His voice was silk over gravel. "There's a short list of suitable women. You're simply at the top." "Lucky me," I muttered, clutching the folder tighter. "And what makes me more 'suitable' than the others?" He stepped closer, his expensive cologne making my head swim. "You're smart. Driven. Not easily intimidated." His eyes raked over me in a way that made my nipples tighten. "And there's chemistry between us. Don't pretend you don't feel it." I swallowed hard. "Chemistry doesn't mean I want to be your contractual fuck buddy." "Wife," he corrected, his jaw tightening. "The term is wife." "Fine. Contractual wife. But how would this even work? You can't just announce we're getting married out of nowhere. No one knows we're dating because we're not dating. Your grandfather would never believe it." Even as I voiced these practical concerns, a voice in my head screamed: Why are you asking these questions? You're not agreeing to this insanity! Alexander's eyes gleamed with approval, like I'd passed some test by thinking through the logistics. "We have a history," he said smoothly. "We dated briefly before you joined Carter Enterprises. We reconnected recently and realized our feelings never died. It's a simple, believable narrative." "That's a lie." "It's a story," he countered. "One that explains our sudden engagement without raising suspicions." I shook my head. "And people will just accept that? Your family? The board?" "We'll go on two or three very public dates before I introduce you to the family. Then we'll announce our engagement. The wedding will happen within a week or two."Olivia"We're... taking things slow," I said finally. "Getting to know each other." "Mm-hmm." She didn't sound convinced. "And how's that going?" "It's... complicated." "Complicated how?" I sighed, choosing my words carefully. "He's not exactly the relationship type. And after Ryan..." "You're scared," she finished for me. "Cautious," I corrected. "I'm being cautious." "Fair enough." She squeezed my hand. "Just remember what I said, okay? Don't let him break your heart." "I won't." The cab pulled up to Emilia's apartment building, and she leaned over to hug me. "Text me when you get home," she instructed. "And we're doing brunch this weekend. No excuses." "Yes, mom," I laughed. "Love you, Liv." "Love you too." She disappeared into her building, and the cab continued on to my apartment. I leaned my head against the window, watching the city lights blur past. The events of the past week felt surreal, like something from a movie, not a part of my actual life. The city ligh
Olivia"No!" I said too quickly. "I mean... not yet." Emilia's eyebrows shot up. "Not yet? So you're planning to?" "I don't know," I admitted. "The chemistry is... intense." "I bet it is," she smirked. "Have you seen the way he looks at you in those photos? Like he wants to eat you alive." Heat rushed to my face. "Em!" "What? It's true! I've never seen a man look at a woman like that in public." She took a sip of her wine. "I'm happy for you, you know. After what Ryan did... you deserve someone who looks at you like that." I felt a twinge of guilt. If only she knew the truth, that it was all a performance, a business arrangement. "I'm being careful," I said instead. "Good." Emilia nodded firmly. "Because if he hurts you, I don't care how rich or powerful he is; I'll kick his ass all the way back to whatever fancy prep school he came from." I laughed despite myself. "I'd pay to see that." "Seriously, Liv." Her expression softened. "I just want you to be happy. And if Alexande
OliviaI gathered my things, my stomach fluttering with nerves. Alexander had texted the address of a restaurant for tonight, along with instructions to "dress to impress." I hadn't agreed to stay at his penthouse yet, preferring the safety of my own apartment for now. Over the next two weeks, Alexander and I fell into a rhythm. We'd meet for dinner at high-end restaurants, where photographers would conveniently appear, capturing images of us looking intimate but never quite showing my full face. He'd kiss my cheek, hold my hand, and place his arm possessively around my waist—always when cameras might be watching. Each time, I wore dresses from his collection, each more stunning than the last. Each time, his eyes would darken when he saw me, his gaze lingering on my curves in a way that made my skin tingle. "You're a natural at this," he said one night as we left a trendy rooftop bar, his hand resting on the small of my back. "At what? Pretending to be your girlfriend?" "At being
Olivia"Keep scrolling," Alexander instructed, his breath warm against my ear. I swiped through more photos, each more intimate than the last. "My face isn't completely visible in most of these," I said, relief washing over me. "But anyone who knows me would recognize me instantly." "That's the point." Alexander took the tablet back, scrolling to another gossip site that had already picked up the story. "The right people will know it's you." "This is real," I whispered, the reality of our arrangement suddenly hitting me. "People are going to think we're together." "Probably," Alexander agreed, seeming unconcerned. He scrolled through more photos, pausing at one where his hand was positioned dangerously low on my back. "That's the point, isn't it?" I sank deeper into the couch, my mind racing. My coworkers would see this. My parents might see this. Everyone would think I was dating Alexander Carter. "We should head to the office," Alexander said, checking his watch. "Separately,
Olivia"Can I get up now?" I asked, shifting on his lap. "Do you want to?" His eyes gleamed with challenge. No, a traitorous part of me whispered. I wanted to stay right where I was, maybe even rock against him a little more, feel that impressive cock straining toward me... "Yes," I lied, forcing myself to sound firm. Alexander released his hold, allowing me to slide off his lap. The loss of contact left me strangely bereft. "Shower's all yours," he said, leaning back against the headboard with a knowing smirk. "Towels are in the cabinet." I rushed to the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind me. Leaning against it, I took several deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. What the hell was wrong with me? One minute, I was annoyed by his arrogance; the next, I was practically melting on his lap. This arrangement was supposed to be business, not... whatever this was. I turned on the shower, letting the water heat up while I peeled off his t-shirt. My nipples were still ha
OliviaAlexander considered the question, running his thumb along the rim of his mug. "Not regularly. Maybe once or twice a week, depending on my schedule." "And who are these lucky ladies? Models? Socialites? Random women from bars?" Alexander set his coffee mug on the nightstand, leaning back against the headboard with casual confidence. "Depends on the week. Sometimes models I meet at charity events. Sometimes women I connect with at business dinners." "So you just fuck whoever catches your eye?" I regretted the sharpness in my tone immediately. What did I care who he slept with? "I'm selective if that's what you're asking. But yes, I enjoy variety." "And they all get the special Alexander Carter morning-after coffee service?" I clutched my mug tighter, ignoring the strange jealousy bubbling in my chest. "Not all of them." He stretched, his t-shirt riding up to reveal a slice of toned abdomen. "Most don't stay until morning." "Charming." "It's efficient." He shrugged. "I'm