All Chapters of The CEO's Contractual Wife: Chapter 261 - Chapter 270

OliviaAlexander moved closer, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. His arms slid around my waist from behind, pulling me back against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped through the thin fabric of my dress. "You haven't seen the bedroom yet," he murmured against my ear, his breath hot. "Or properly explored the suite." I felt his lips brush the side of my neck, sending goosebumps down my arms despite the tropical heat outside. "I saw what I needed to see," I replied, leaning back into him. "Your dirty mind can wait." His chest rumbled with a laugh. "My dirty mind is already working overtime. You have no idea what I'm thinking right now." "Probably something that would get us kicked out of this very respectable hotel." "Definitely something that would get us kicked out." His hands splayed across my stomach, possessive and warm. "Want to hear?" I turned in his arms, meeting those dark eyes. "Maybe later. When I'm not standing in front of a wall of windows." "The glass

OliviaWe browsed in silence, stopping occasionally when something caught our eye. I paused in front of a painting of Seven Mile Beach at sunset, the sky painted in shades of orange and pink. "That one," Alexander said from behind me. "You like it." "It's gorgeous. The colors are incredible." He signaled the gallery owner. "We'll take this one." "Alexander, you don't have to—" "I want to." He gave the woman his credit card without even asking the price. "You'll think of me every time you look at it." "That's incredibly generous." The gallery owner beamed, processing the transaction with practiced efficiency. "Shall we arrange delivery?" "Have it sent to the Carter estate in Los Angeles," Alexander told her. "Security handled, insurance coverage, the works." "Of course. We'll take care of everything." We left the gallery, stepping back into the afternoon heat. The sun beat down relentlessly, making the ocean breeze a welcome relief. "You didn't have to do that," I said, linki

Olivia"I enjoy it," he said simply. "Well, for a change, let me dress you." His eyebrow arched. "Dress me?" "Yeah. Your turn to be the mannequin." I grabbed his hand, tugging him toward a men's boutique across the street. "Come on." I pulled him into the shop, a breezy open air space with racks of casual wear displayed against whitewashed walls. Island music drifted from hidden speakers, mingling with the rustle of palm fronds outside. "What are we doing here?" Alexander asked, looking around with obvious confusion. "Shopping." I grabbed a pale blue linen shirt and held it up against his chest. "For you." "I don't need clothes." "Everyone needs clothes." I grabbed another shirt, this one in cream. "And you're always dressing me. Turnabout is fair play." A salesman approached, all white teeth and helpful energy. "Can I help you find anything?" "Yes," I said before Alexander could protest. "Casual shirts, linen pants." The salesman's eyes lit up. "I have several pieces that

OliviaWe returned to the car, the bag of fruit resting on my lap. The dragon fruit felt cool through the paper, and I could smell the sweet ripeness of the mangoes even through the packaging. "That was kind of you," I said, watching Alexander settle into the seat beside me. "The tip, I mean." He shrugged. "She needed it more than I do." The driver pulled away from the fruit stand, heading back toward the main road. Through the window, I watched the neighborhood fade, replaced gradually by tourist areas and beach resorts. "Where to now?" the driver asked. Alexander glanced at his watch. "Take us to the north beach. The one past the resorts." "The quiet one? Yes, sir." We drove for another twenty minutes, leaving behind the crowded hotel, beaches, and water sports vendors. The road narrowed, palm trees growing thicker on either side. Eventually, the pavement gave way to packed dirt, and we pulled into a small gravel lot. "This is it," Alexander said, opening the door. I steppe

AlexanderAaron Davies shifted in his seat, clearly not expecting this level of candor. "That's... an interesting observation." "Just calling it as I see it," James replied. His gaze flicked to Victoria, then to me. "Strategic acquisitions are one thing. Desperate ones are another entirely." "Desperate seems like a strong word," Victoria interjected, her voice smooth as silk. "We're all successful businesspeople here. None of us are desperate." "Aren't we?" James leaned back in his chair. "This company handles offshore accounts for half the major corporations in California. The kind of accounts that make certain financial activities... let's say, less visible to regulators. That information would be valuable to someone who needed to understand where money's been flowing." I met James's eyes across the table. The bastard knew exactly what he was implying. Aaron cleared his throat. "I can assure you that Cayman Corporate Services operates within all legal parameters." "Of course y