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She dropped out of high school, had a bad reputation, was jilted by her fiancé, and was laughed at by public. Yet the following day, she wed a billionaire, and was doted on by him who was arrogant and averse to women. ===== "Ow, that hurts..." As she felt something hard pierce her body, Marissa Nash momentarily felt dizzy from the agony. She had forgotten about the bunch of Dreamweed on the seat and had accidentally sat on it. Its long, sharp thorns had dug deep into her flesh. Then, noticing blood seeping from between her legs, she gasped in shock and exclaimed, "Oh no!" Dreamweed was known for its strong anesthetic properties, meaning she would likely be numb for the next six hours. Realizing this, she decided to close the shop and rest. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she removed the thorns and wanted to go put up the "Closed for Today" sign. But before she could stand, a tall, well-dressed man in a sharp suit entered the flower shop through the glass door. His imposing presence quickly dominated the space. His face was handsome and stern, his eyes a mix of disdain, hatred, and something fiercely destructive. Marissa slightly frowned; she did not recognize him and knew nothing of his intentions. But it was evident he wasn't here on a friendly visit! She had many enemies. Though she often used aliases and disguises on her missions, there was always the risk of being unmasked. There was also the possibility that a traitor emerged within the organization she belonged to. It wasn't uncommon for enemies to seek her out for revenge or abduct her. Feeling her strength fading away, she dared not act hastily. All she could do was try to remain calm on the surface. "Are you here to buy flowers, sir?" "Heh!" The man scoffed. Without a word, he scooped her up and carried her outside. Marissa instinctively tried to punch him, but her feeble punches felt more like gentle taps against his solid body. What awaited her outside left her stunned. Down the narrow, run-down Vintage Street, over a dozen luxurious black Rolls Royces were lined up impressively. Over a hundred stern-faced bodyguards in black surrounded her modest flower shop, making it seem like a fortress. Passersby had already scurried into nearby stores, driven by fear. It was as if a scene from a mafia movie had come to life, with the mafia boss making a dramatic public appearance. Despite Marissa's extensive experiences, she couldn't determine which powerful person in Blebert was targeting her. To cause such a spectacle in broad daylight was incredibly bold and insane! The man roughly shoved her into a car and then climbed in beside her, settling next to her. Once the door was shut, the car's interior was engulfed by his intense, chilling presence, making it hard to breathe. Marissa tried to remain composed and discreetly reached into her pocket for her phone to send out a distress signal. But just as her fingers grazed the device, the man beside her snatched it away. She glanced at his harsh, tense face. "Sir, could you at least tell me your name and why you're abducting me... Ugh!" Her plea was abruptly cut short as his hand clamped tightly around her throat. "I'm not interested in your antics! Say another word, and I'll end you right here!" To save her life, Marissa quickly shut her mouth. Powerless to fight back, she could only sit and wonder what would come next. However, what happened next left her completely astounded. The man brought her to the City Hall. Before she knew it, her name was listed next to his on the marriage certificate. Thrown back into the car, Marissa was in shock. She stared vacantly at the marriage certificate in her hand, finally seeing the man's name, Connor Daniels. In Blebert, only one Connor Daniels fit the profile of possessing such immense wealth and influence--the current head of the top family, also known as the wealthiest man in Blebert! The situation was both horrifying and bewildering. She had never encountered such an extremely prestigious and fearsome person. While she might have unwittingly offended him, an assassination attempt or revenge on her would make sense, but a forced marriage...? "Um, Mr. Daniels..." "shut up!" Marissa attempted to find out what was going on, but Connor cut her off before she could begin to ask questions. Then, he grabbed her left hand and slid a priceless diamond ring onto her finger. "Make my grandma happy as you did before. Don't provoke me again!" he ordered. Marissa was left speechless. She had never even met his grandmother, so how was she supposed to make her happy? "Mr. Daniels, there's clearly been a misunderstanding... Hmm..." She found herself once again gripped tightly by the throat. His demeanor was tense and grim. Each word he said seemed to echo from a place of deep darkness. "You went to great lengths to trick my grandma into forcing this marriage upon me. Yet, after I had agreed and our wedding invitations had been sent out, you vanished on the day we were to legalize our marriage? I'm not interested in why you chased me and then ran away, r do I mind the embarrassment and complications it caused. But my grandma was rushed to the hospital because of this, and we need to resolve it! With her health in a critical condition, you will return and act the part of the dutiful granddaughter-in-law. If you try any tricks, I'll make sure the entire Nash family pays dearly!" Marissa started to piece things together. He had abducted the wrong person! She resembled his actual runaway fiancee closely, leading to this mistake. She had planned to go back to her hometown Adagend tomorrow to marry her fiance, Derek Tucker. What was she supposed to do now? Chapter2 Buried Alongside Her Marissa was seething with anger for being mistaken for someone else. Her carefully laid plans had been completely ruined by Connor, and even if she were to regain her freedom in the future, she would be a divorced woman. This blind and rude bastard! She was consumed by the desire to tear Connor apart. Yet, at this moment, she was powerless to defend herself. His overbearing and aggressive presence forced her into submission once again. As the sun set, casting its last golden light, their car pulled into the opulent grounds of Daniels Manor. No sooner had Connor pulled her from the car than a distressed butler hurried over with urgent news. "Mr. Daniels, you must come quickly. Your grandma has collapsed again and they're trying to revive her. This is the third time she's fainted. The doctors say her heart is failing, and her condition is... very critical..." Connor's expression twisted into one of anger. Marissa instinctively recoiled, sensing the murderous intent emanating from him. Before she could react, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the car door. His grip was that of a madman, his hand tightening around her neck to the point where she nearly passed out. "You better hope my grandmother gets through this! If she doesn't, I'll make sure you're buried alongside her!" With one last menacing squeeze, Connor let her go and stormed off towards the mansion. Gasping for air, Marissa clutched her bruised throat and coughed painfully. "Ugh... Ahem..." The sensation of being so close to death left her both terrified and seething with anger. This man was completely insane! He still hadn't realized that he had married the wrong woman. Given his current unstable and aggressive demeanor, if his grandmother passed away, she was certain she'd be buried alive alongside her! To ensure her survival until the truth came out, she knew she must try to save his grandmother. With that resolve, she gathered her strength and followed Connor into the mansion. Inside the bedroom, Arabella Daniels, an elderly lady with silver hair, was lying motionless on the bed. Medical personnel were desperately attempting to save her, but the monitors tracking her vitals indicated her blood pressure and heart rate were critically low. She was indeed on the brink of death. Connor stopped at the doorway, his face strained. Marissa, trailing behind him, held her breath. Suddenly, the heart monitor's rhythmic beeping stopped, replaced by a continuous flat tone. The medical team paused briefly before resuming their intense efforts to resuscitate Arabella. However, Arabella's heart remained unresponsive. The lead doctor finally said somberly, "Mrs. Daniels has passed away. Please accept our condolences." Connor was in denial. His eyes, already reddened, became wild with grief. "I don't accept this! Keep trying! Use whatever means necessary, regardless of the cost!" The doctor sighed and said, "Mr. Daniels, your grandma's heart has stopped. Further attempts are futile." Connor was on the verge of a breakdown. He had lost his parents at a young age, and it was his grandmother who had raised him. She was the closest family he had. "No, Grandma can't just go like this! She wanted to see me married and meet her great-grandchildren. She said only that would bring her peace!" The room fell eerily quiet, everyone too apprehensive to speak. Finally, Neil Daniels, Connor's brother, broke the silence with a scornful remark. "Enough, Connor. What's the point of saying all this now?" He was Connor's eldest brother, twenty-three years older than him. His words were sharply cutting. "Grandma died stressed out because of your runaway fiancee. Her death is your fault. You can't even handle a woman. How are we supposed to trust you with running the whole family? If you feel any remorse for Grandma, hand over the family leadership and shares, and step down from managing the family business!" Connor's lips tightened as he tried to contain his emotions. Neil had always been bitter that their grandmother had entrusted Connor with the shares and family leadership instead of him, her eldest grandchild. He never missed a chance to pin a blame on Connor. Usually, Connor didn't let Neil's accusations slide and always had a retort ready to keep his conniving brother in check. But today, Connor had no desire to argue. He was too overwhelmed by grief and wanted his grandmother to rest in peace. But Glenn Daniels, Connor's third elder brother, who used a wheelchair, couldn't stand it any longer. "Neil, Grandma chose Connor to be in charge. It's unseemly for you to try to take the family leadership and shares now!" "Glenn, since when do you have a say in this family?" Neil's wife, Lorna Daniels, jumped in sharply before Neil could respond, her voice laden with sarcasm. Despite her carefully applied makeup, her malicious nature was evident. "Connor doesn't have the integrity required for his position. It's only right that he hands over the family leadership and shares! And you, contributing nothing from that wheelchair, think you deserve a share too?" Lorna was known for her harsh words, and she hit exactly where it hurt. As expected, Glenn grimaced, gripping his knee, rendered speechless by the distress. Marissa observed the family drama silently from the sidelines, uninterested in their squabbles. While the others argued, she had been closely observing Arabella's condition. As the argument intensified, Marissa said calmly, "Mrs. Daniels can still be saved..." Chapter3 Who Dares Lay A Finger On My Woman The moment Marissa spoke, all attention shifted to her. Connor, deep in grief, seemed to only remember her presence now, turning his head sharply toward her, his eyes filled with a fierce anger. Marissa instinctively took a step back, feeling as if she was walking dangerously on the edge of a knife. "Isn't that the runaway bride who's from the Nash family?" "How dare she show her face here?" The crowd looked at her with evident disdain. Marissa felt like prey surrounded by a pack of wolves. Cautiously, she asked Connor, "May I see Mrs. Daniels? Perhaps I could be of some help." What?! Everyone was shocked. Lorna let out a sharp, mocking laugh and said, "Miss Nash, are you out of your mind? Everyone knows you never finished high school. When did you become a medical expert?" Marissa ignored the cutting remark. Her focus was solely on trying to save a life, and she pleaded with Connor, "Since the doctors have given up, what harm is there in letting me try? Things can't get much worse." The medical team was outraged. How could they let a notorious rich girl, declared a failure by her own family, overturn their death declaration? The Daniels family members were also seething with anger. This woman, who had disgraced them by fleeing the wedding, now had the audacity to step in upon Arabella's death. Everyone expected Connor to demand this lunatic be thrown out. Unexpectedly, the fierce anger in Connor's eyes faded. He continued to stare at Marissa's face, leaving the room in suspense about his thoughts. Neil, unable to contain his anger, slammed the table and said, "How can we let this ignorant girl meddle? Throw her out now!" The bodyguards, anticipating this command, started to approach Marissa to escort her away. "Who dares lay a finger on my woman?!" Suddenly, Connor's voice rang out, stopping everyone in their tracks. Everyone was stunned. Connor's commanding presence filled the room, leaving no room for defiance. Even the troublemakers, Neil and Lorna, were forced to remain silent. With a single command, Connor had taken control of the situation. He then took Marissa by the hand and led her to the bedside, simply saying, "Please." No one dared to question the decision of the head of the family. Marissa started to examine Arabella's body. Given that she had not fully regained her strength and had been roughly choked by Connor thrice, her hands shook noticeably, making her examination seem clumsy. This clumsiness was misinterpreted negatively by the onlookers. They assumed she knew nothing about medicine; she was merely seeking attention and was visibly nervous. There had always been many women trying to garner Connor's attention with dramatic gestures. But for Marissa to use Arabella as a part of her scheme was unprecedented. She had previously convinced Arabella to agree to her and Connor's marriage, showing some cunning. But now, with Arabella gone, did she really think she could revive the dead? Such a thought was pure insanity! Everyone watched Marissa intently. They were eager to see her make a fool of herself, expecting Connor to throw her out and the downfall of the Nash family alongside her. Marissa paid them no mind. After finishing her examination, she paused in thought for a moment before pulling out her acupuncture kit. Upon seeing the kit, the doctors scoffed, and the observers mocked her even more. They had anticipated some sophisticated medical intervention, but she resorted to acupuncture, which many regarded as mere folklore. Arabella's heart had stopped to function; not even surgery could save her, and Marissa thought a few needles would revive her? Connor must be out of his mind to allow her to treat Arabella. Arabella was so revered. How could Marissa be permitted to mess with her body? It was a disrespect to her! Yet, Connor did not intervene, so no one dared openly criticize her actions. Marissa sterilized the silver needles and started positioning them at strategic points on Arabella's body. Her increasing weakness caused her hands to tremble more visibly, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. The spectators, noticing her shaky hands, were both anxious and terrified witnessing the positioning of her every needle. When the first needle was inserted, there was no change. The second needle followed, and still, no response. By the ninth needle, there was still no sign of any miracle. At that point, the onlookers could no longer restrain themselves. "Stop!" Neil shouted furiously. "You have some nerve, trying to deceive us! Do you think we're fools?" "Using Arabella's body for your scheme--you must be tired of living!" Everyone glared at Marissa, furious and ready to tear apart this woman who they believed disrespected Arabella. Even the usually gentle Glenn appeared unusually grim. "Connor, are you really going to let this woman continue with her antics?" But Connor did not stop Marissa. Instead, he yelled, "Everyone, be quiet!" Marissa breathed a sigh of relief. She had only one needle left. If Connor had succumbed to the crowd's influence and halted her, all her efforts would have been for nothing. Connor's authoritative presence shut down the opposing voices once more, but the room felt heavier with all that pent-up anger lurking beneath the surface. With the room's full attention on her, Marissa positioned the final, tenth needle. As she did, Arabella abruptly inhaled a breath of air. She was alive! Chapter4 They Had Abducted The Wrong Person Did a miracle just happen? Everyone in the room looked as if they had witnessed the impossible. No, it was as if they had seen God. The doctors, who had previously declared the patient beyond help, looked as though they wanted to bow down to Marissa in reverence! Connor was overjoyed. Only Marissa remained calm and concentrated, continuing to massage and press various points on Arabella's body. Ten minutes later, Arabella's blood pressure and heart rate stabilized. Although Arabella hadn't regained consciousness, her breathing was regular, and her skin color was returning to normal. The person declared dead was now in stable condition! "How... she...?" Lorna stuttered, pointing at Marissa, her words trailing off in disbelief. Everyone had labeled Miss Nash as dumb. When had she developed such extraordinary medical abilities? The esteemed doctors in the room felt both humiliated and ashamed. The lead doctor couldn't resist asking, "Miss Nash, from whom did you learn your medical skills?" "I picked it up from acupuncture books and just replicated what I read," Marissa answered, making up a simple explanation to avoid any complications, given everyone in the room was now thinking she was another woman. This response shattered the earlier sense of wonder in the room. Who would seriously attempt to treat someone as critical as Arabella with basic acupuncture techniques learned from books? This woman must be out of her mind. She had simply struck it incredibly lucky today! Ignoring the mixed reactions from the crowd, Marissa meticulously gathered her silver needles. Large beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks--she was completely exhausted. The effects of the Dreamweed had weakened her, and she hadn't rested at all. Instead, she endured rough handling by Connor that nearly crushed her. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand gently wipe the sweat from her cheek. Marissa turned her head, only to see it was Connor. His eyes conveyed a deep sense of gratitude, almost as if he was trying to soften her with his look. Feeling uneasy with such closeness, Marissa quickly stepped away. "Mr. Daniels, can we talk?" "You look exhausted. Rest now. We can talk later, once you've had some sleep," Connor suggested, his voice unexpectedly tender, mirroring the softness in his eyes. Realizing how exhausted she truly was, Marissa agreed to his suggestion. Before leaving, she asked, "Could I have my phone back, please?" Connor paused for a brief moment, then swiftly pulled her phone from his pocket and handed it to her. Marissa accepted her phone and followed the servant out. The night had deepened outside, the sky hinting at an impending rainstorm. Marissa was led to a guest room in an adjacent building and immediately checked her messages. Derek and she had planned to go back to their hometown the next day to get married. With her phone off for so long, he must have been incredibly worried. Sure enough, after three hours without her phone, it was bombarded with notifications. Over a hundred missed calls and dozens of texts greeted her, all from Derek. Marissa gave a wry smile and quickly texted Derek to reassure him that she would meet him at the train station as planned at noon the next day. The wedding date couldn't be changed. Before meeting Derek, she needed to divorce Connor. He had turned what was supposed to be her first marriage into her second, and she was determined to make him regret it. All she needed now was a good night's rest, and then she would set things right! With that resolve, she climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep. In a small conference room in the same building, tension filled the atmosphere. Domenic Wells, Connor's trusted assistant, stood before him, delivering his report with due respect. "Mr. Daniels, the young woman's name is Marissa Nash, 22 years old, originally from a small village in Adagend. She owns a small flower shop on Vintage Street. Her family's financial struggles forced her to drop out of school shortly after beginning high school to start working, contributing to family expenses. She left her village at fifteen, wandered through various towns, and settled in Blebert only last year. As a young woman on her own who earns a decent income, she's the subject of various nasty rumors back in her village. Essentially, her reputation isn't stellar." While saying this, Domenic had already prepared himself for any harsh punishment. The intended bride from the Nash family had fled from her marriage to Connor, and he, under orders, had searched the entire city, ending up at a small flower shop on Vintage Street. Regrettably, they had abducted the wrong person! The two women merely shared a resemblance and the same surname, Nash. This mistake had landed his boss in a significant predicament. Though the actual bride, whom Arabella had approved of, was despised by Connor, she had a suitable social standing. But now, the new "Mrs. Daniels" was nothing more than a high school dropout with a questionable background from a tiny village! This was a blow to his boss' dignity! If this village girl attempted to blackmail them or refuse to let go of Connor, he feared that even sacrificing his life would not be enough to atone for this mistake. "Mr. Daniels, I have failed in my responsibilities and am prepared to face whatever punishment you deem necessary!" The room was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Connor remained silent for a long time, repeatedly examining the brand-new marriage certificate. Then, suddenly, he got up and moved towards the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the clouded sky. He opened his mouth, seemingly about to say something. Chapter5 Legally Dividing Community Property "The weather is nice," Connor said out of the blue. Domenic stood frozen, while Marc Bailey and Terry Bailey, the two captains of the bodyguard team, looked terrified. Connor was known for being unpredictable. A dark expression on his face didn't always signify anger, whereas a smile might be the calm before the storm. Without a second thought, Domenic, Marc, and Terry all knelt with a heavy thud. At that moment, lightning flashed across the window, followed by a booming thunderclap that rattled the entire building. The rain began to fall in torrents. Suddenly, Connor turned around and said softly, "Send someone upstairs to check the situation." Upon hearing this, the two bodyguard captains remained motionless, and Domenic, the well-educated special assistant, seemed completely lost. Cade Garza, the seasoned old butler who had a deep understanding of human nature, took charge. He promptly summoned a maid and instructed, "Quickly go upstairs and see if our esteemed guest was startled by the thunder. If she's awake, let us know immediately. Also, prepare a lavish meal in the kitchen and be ready to serve her at any moment!" After a brief pause, Cade personally retrieved some swelling-reducing ointment and passed it to the maid. Once these orders were given, Cade looked to Connor and asked, "Mr. Daniels, do you find these arrangements enough?" Connor nodded. After the thunderstorm, Marissa woke up. Though she hadn't slept long, she felt her energy had returned. During previous missions, she often had to make do with minimal sleep. Her body had adapted, trained to recover energy swiftly from brief rests. Noticing a cooling sensation around her neck, carrying a faint medicinal scent, she sniffed gently and recognized it as some ointment. As she opened her eyes, she saw several maids standing by her bed with respect. The head maid approached with a warm smile and said, "Mrs. Daniels, you are awake." "Please, call me Miss Nash." Marissa corrected her politely as she sat up. The maids exchanged puzzled glances. Miss Nash had previously preferred the title Mrs. Daniels. What had changed her mind today? Then the head maid said, "Mr. Connor Daniels is waiting for you downstairs. Dinner is ready. Would you like to come down for a meal?" Marissa, feeling quite hungry, freshened up and headed downstairs. There, Connor was seated at the dining table, absorbed in a newspaper. He seemed more controlled andcomposed now, presenting himself as nothing more than a charming gentleman, easy on the eyes. Yet, Marissa shot him a disdainful glance and silently started to eat. She only raised her head after satisfying her hunger. "Mr. Daniels, I believe you understand now that you've made a big mistake. Even though I come from a humble background, you've wronged me, and it's only right that you make amends, correct?" Connor looked at the woman before him and gave a slight nod. "Yes, I apologize." "So, Mr. Daniels, would you prefer to resolve this legally, or can we settle it privately?" "Let's handle it privately," Connor responded. He then offered a slight smile. "Miss Nash, please, specify your terms." Perfect! Marissa quickly requested paper and a pen, and set about drafting an agreement... Silence enveloped the dining room, broken only by the scratching of Marissa's pen against the paper. Connor was intrigued to see what terms she would propose and learn more about the kind of person she truly was. She was dressed casually in a blue checkered shirt, overalls, and Martin boots, her hair tied in a loose braid, without a trace of makeup. Her outfit was typical for someone who ran a flower shop, yet it rendered her quite striking. She looked exceptionally pure and vibrant, standing out like a beacon among the crowd. His eyes lingered on her, starting from her jet-black hair and moving slowly downward. He studied her expressive eyes, the shape of her nose, her rosy lips, and her flawless skin. When his gaze landed on the red marks around her neck, a pang of guilt hit him hard. As he remembered how he had treated her harshly, remorse washed over him. Just then, Marissa set down her pen and looked up, meeting his probing gaze. Startled and feeling guilty, Connor quickly looked away. Marissa passed the paper to him, her demeanor composed. There were two agreements in total. Connor took them and began to review them carefully. The first agreement was primarily about the compensation. The initial clause demanded five thousand for physical injuries. "Mr. Daniels, you physically assaulted me three times, resulting in neck injuries. I'm requesting five thousand in compensation. That seems fair, doesn't it?" Marissa interjected just in time. "Very fair," Connor said, continuing to read. The next clause asked for one hundred thousand for emotional distress. "Mr. Daniels, your actions have caused me significant emotional suffering. One hundred thousand in compensation isn't unreasonable, right?" Marissa added. "Very reasonable." Connor agreed once more, his tone still gentle. He moved on to the following clause. The third clause concerned medical fees, totaling ten million. Connor was momentarily at a loss for words. He lifted his head and looked at Marissa from head to toe, his eyes nearly widening in bewilderment, yet he still couldn't quite understand her. Marissa offered a slight smile. "Mr. Daniels, although my medical intervention was somewhat fortuitous, the fact remains that I revived your grandmother. The value of Mrs. Daniels's life is immeasurable. Surely, ten million for medical expenses isn't too much?" Slightly amused, Connor smiled faintly. "Very reasonable." He immediately signed the agreement after speaking. He then wrote a check for 10, 150, 000 dollars and handed it over to Marissa. She accepted it without hesitation and tucked it into her pocket. Connor then proceeded to the second document. It was a divorce agreement. The content was straightforward--legally dividing their community property. Upon seeing the phrase "community property," Connor couldn't help but chuckle. He looked at her intently for a few moments before softly inquiring, "Miss Nash, are you interested in getting more money out of this?" ...... ==== Marissa Nash, who is going to marry her fiancé tomorrow, is mistaken by the billionaire Connor Daniels as his runaway bride, and is kidnapped to get the marriage certificate and taken home. After being brought home, she accidentally revived his grandmother who had been declared dead with ten needles! Connor later found out that he kidnapped the wrong person, but he became interested in this mysterious girl. Can Marissa successfully divorce and marry her fiancé? What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &5&

À l’infirmière qui disait que c’était du "Botox en stick", je ne vous ai pas crue au début. J’avais tout essayé — sérums, crèmes, rétinol — et pourtant, mon visage semblait toujours creusé, marqué et fatigué. Après quelques semaines à utiliser Joia, mon regard paraît plus reposé et mes ridules se sont estompées comme jamais auparavant. Ma peau a l'air ferme, tonique et enfin pleine de vie. Je me suis enfin retrouvée — et j'ai retrouvé cette confiance en moi, ça change tout.

Chapter 1 Olivia's POV I slumped against the passenger seat as Ryan's car cruised through the palm-lined streets of Los Angeles. My eyelids felt heavy after a twelve-hour shift at Carter Enterprises. The quarterly marketing campaign required us all to work overtime, and as a junior marketing executive, I was stuck with weekend work. "You still with me, babe?" Ryan glanced over, his perfectly styled dark hair catching the sunset's glow. "Barely." I stifled a yawn. "Remind me why we're going to this party when I could be face-planting into my pillow right now?" "Because Sophia would kill you if you missed her birthday." He reached over and squeezed my knee. "And because you look stunning in that dress I bought for you." I glanced down at the black cocktail dress he'd insisted I wear. The neckline plunged lower than I'd normally choose, and the hemline rode high enough to make me self-conscious every time I sat down. Ryan had shown up at my apartment with the dress in a boutique bag, eyes gleaming with anticipation as I'd tried it on. "I still think it's a bit much for a birthday party," I tugged at the fabric, trying to cover more of my chest. "Liv, we've been dating for two years. I know what looks good on you better than you do. Trust me, every guy at this party will wish he was me tonight." "Is that what this is about? Marking your territory?" "Can you blame me?" He winked as he turned onto Sophia's street, where luxury cars lined both sides. Sophia's recently purchased triplex stood illuminated against the darkening sky, music pulsing from within. For someone only turning twenty-five, she'd done remarkably well for herself in real estate development. Ryan found a spot half a block away and cut the engine. "Ready to make an entrance, Ms. Morgan?" "As I'll ever be." I grabbed my purse and the gift bag containing the vintage champagne Ryan had suggested we bring. The cool evening air hit my bare shoulders as I stepped out of the car, making me shiver. Ryan's arm slid around my waist, his hand resting dangerously low on my hip. "See? Worth getting dressed up for." He nodded toward the house. "This place is insane." We walked up the curved driveway where twinkling lights had been strung through the palm trees. The front door stood open, spilling light, music, and laughter onto the porch. "Olivia! You made it!" Sophia appeared in the doorway, resplendent in a gold sequined dress. "I was starting to think you'd stood me up!" "My work tried its best to keep me away," I laughed, accepting her enthusiastic hug. "Happy birthday, Soph." "And Ryan, looking delicious as always." She air-kissed his cheeks. "Come in, come in! Everyone's already two drinks ahead of you." Ryan's hand pressed against the small of my back as we entered the foyer, which opened to a massive great room where at least thirty people mingled. The space featured floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the twinkling Los Angeles skyline. "Drink?" Ryan asked, already scanning the room. "God, yes. The strongest thing they've got." He chuckled. "That's my girl. Be right back." As Ryan disappeared toward the bar setup, I heard a familiar squeal from across the room. "Olivia Morgan, get your ass over here!" I turned to see Emilia waving frantically from a plush sectional sofa. My best friend since college was already flushed from alcohol, her blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders. "Em!" I navigated through clusters of guests to reach her. "How long have you been here?" "Long enough to know the bartender's life story." She stood, wobbling slightly in her heels, and embraced me. She pulled back, holding me at arm's length to examine my outfit. "Holy shit, your boobs look amazing in that dress. Did Ryan pick it out?" I felt my cheeks warm. "Is it that obvious?" "Only because I've known you for eight years, and you've never willingly shown that much cleavage." She smirked. "Not that I'm complaining. If I had your rack, I'd show it off, too." "Could you say that a little louder? I don't think everyone in Malibu heard you." "Sorry, can't help it. You're too easy to embarrass." Emilia's eyes danced with mischief as she took another sip of her drink. "By the way, have you seen our birthday girl? I swear she was here greeting people and then just... vanished." I scanned the crowded room. "No, actually. Where did Ryan go? He was supposed to be getting me a drink." "Maybe he's outside? I saw some people heading to the back lawn earlier." Emilia shrugged. "Or he could be sneaking a cigarette." I narrowed my eyes. "He told me he quit three months ago. If I catch him smoking after all that 'I'm done with nicotine forever, baby' bullshit, I'll kill him myself." "Men lie about the stupidest things. Like, just admit you still smoke and save us both the drama." "I'm going to find him," I said, tugging at my dress, which had ridden up dangerously high. "If he's outside with a cigarette, I'm putting it on his favorite shoes." "That's my girl." Emilia raised her glass. "I'll be right here judging everyone's outfit choices when you get back." I weaved through the crowded living room, nodding at half-familiar faces from past gatherings. The kitchen was jammed with people mixing drinks. No Ryan. The back patio held a group playing some drinking games with shots and ping pong balls. No Ryan among them. "Looking for someone?" A tall guy with a man-bun approached, his eyes dropping to my cleavage before meeting my gaze. "My boyfriend. Tall, dark hair, probably looking smug about something." He laughed. "Haven't seen him. But I'd be happy to keep you company until he shows up." "Hard pass, but thanks." I turned away, irritation building. Where the hell was Ryan with my drink? I climbed the modern floating staircase to the next floor, where the noise from the party became more muffled. The hallway was dimly lit and had several closed doors. A sound caught my attention – a moan? A laugh? Something between the two. It was faint, coming from further down the hall. The sound came again, more distinct this time. Definitely a moan. Great. A couple had found a private spot to hook up at Sophia's party. How classy. I was about to turn back when I noticed a slightly ajar door at the end of the hallway, a sliver of light spilling onto the hardwood floor. Something compelled me forward – curiosity, or perhaps a sixth sense I didn't know I had. As I approached, the sounds became clearer. A woman's voice, breathless and urgent: "Fuck, yes, right there." I froze. The voice was familiar. A male voice responded, low and commanding: "You like that, don't you? Tell me how much you want it." My stomach dropped. Ryan's voice. I should have turned away, run down those stairs, and straight out the front door. Instead, I moved closer, pushing the door open wider. The scene burned into my retinas like a brand. Sophia bent over her dresser; her gold dress pushed up around her waist. Ryan was behind her, his pants around his ankles, hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her. "Harder," Sophia gasped. "Make me feel it tomorrow." "What the fuck?" The words escaped me before I could stop them. They both froze. Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. Chapter 2 Olivia's POV Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. For a moment, time suspended itself. My lungs refused to work, and the room seemed to tilt sideways. "Liv—" Ryan stammered, still connected to Sophia. "This isn't—" "What it looks like?" I finished, my voice surprisingly steady despite the earthquake happening inside me. "Because it looks like you're fucking my friend on her birthday while I wait downstairs for a drink that's never coming." Sophia turned her head, meeting my gaze without a hint of shame. She didn't even bother to adjust her dress; she just rested her elbows on the dresser and sighed like I'd interrupted a business meeting. "Oh, Olivia," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Did you think a man like Ryan would be satisfied with just you?" Ryan finally pulled away from her, fumbling to pull up his pants. "Baby, please, this is just a... a thing. It doesn't mean anything." "A thing?" I repeated, heat rising to my face. "How long has this 'thing' been happening?" Before either could answer, I heard footsteps behind me. "Liv? Did you find—" Emilia's voice cut off as she appeared at my side, taking in the scene. "Holy fucking shit." Ryan's face paled further. "This isn't what—" "If you say 'this isn't what it looks like' one more time, I swear to God I will castrate you with my bare hands," Emilia snapped, her arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders. Sophia straightened up, finally adjusting her dress with leisurely movements. She tossed her hair back and had the audacity to smirk. "Ryan and I have an understanding. It's just sex. Great sex, but still just sex." "An understanding?" I laughed, the sound brittle and foreign to my ears. "And when exactly were you planning to include me in this understanding? After you gave me chlamydia, or before?" "Don't be dramatic," Ryan said, tucking in his shirt. "We've been careful." "Oh, careful! Well, that makes it all better then!" I threw my hands up. "You've been carefully fucking my friend behind my back. Such consideration!" Sophia leaned against the dresser, crossing her arms. "We're all adults here. Monogamy is so... limiting, don't you think?" Emilia stepped forward. "The only thing limiting around here is your moral compass, you backstabbing bitch." "Watch it," Sophia warned, her eyes narrowing. "Or what? You'll sleep with my boyfriend too? Get in line." Emilia turned to Ryan. "And you. You pathetic excuse for a man. Two years? Two fucking years of her life wasted on you?" Ryan finally managed to buckle his belt. "Liv, baby, please. We can talk about this. It's just physical. It doesn't change how I feel about you." "You feel so much for me that you bought me this dress." I gestured to my outfit. "So, I could be downstairs putting on a show for your friends while you're up here with your dick in Sophia?" "The dress looks amazing on you," he offered weakly. I stared at him in disbelief. "That's what you're going with right now? Fashion compliments?" "I'm just saying—" "No, I'm done listening to what you're 'just saying.'" I turned to leave, then spun back. "Two years, Ryan. Two years of me rearranging my schedule for you and believing every word out of your mouth. Was any of it real?" He took a step toward me. "Of course, it was real. I love you, Liv." "Spare me," I spat. "If this is your version of love, I want nothing to do with it." Sophia sighed dramatically. "Can we wrap this up? I have guests downstairs." "You have one less now," I said, turning away. "Enjoy your birthday present. You two deserve each other." Emilia shot them both a final glare before following me out. We marched down the hallway, my legs somehow carrying me forward despite feeling like they might collapse. "I've got you," Emilia whispered, her arm still around me as we descended the stairs. The party continued below us, oblivious to the implosion that had just occurred upstairs. The music seemed too loud now, the laughter too jarring. We pushed through the crowd toward the front door. Someone called my name, but I kept moving, my eyes fixed on the exit. The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside, and only then did I realize I was shaking. We made it to the sidewalk when I heard the front door open behind us. I refused to look back. "Olivia!" Ryan called out. "Wait!" Emilia turned, positioning herself between us like a shield. "Go back to your birthday girl, asshole." "This is between me and Liv," he insisted but made no move to follow us. "There is no 'me and Liv' anymore," I called back, still walking. "We're done." His response was lost as we rounded the corner, the sounds of the party fading behind us. Once out of sight, my composure crumbled. I stopped walking, my breath coming in gasps. "I can't believe…I can't…" I pressed my hand to my mouth. "I know, honey. I know." Emilia pulled me into a hug. "Let it out." "Two years," I whispered against her shoulder. "Two fucking years." She stroked my hair. "I'm so sorry, Liv." I pulled back, wiping angrily at my eyes. "Did you know? About them?" Emilia hesitated. "Not for sure. But I had my suspicions." "What? Why didn't you say anything?" She sighed, fishing her phone from her purse. "I saw them at Barton's Café last month. They said they'd run into each other, but it seemed... off. The way they were sitting, the way he touched her arm. I didn't want to say anything without proof. I didn't want to hurt you if I was wrong." "Well, now we have proof," I said bitterly. "Let me call us a cab," Emilia said, tapping her phone. "My car's not here. Jake dropped me off." I hugged myself against the chill, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt in the dress Ryan had chosen. "No cabs available. Let's walk a bit. I'll keep trying for a ride and call Jake. Maybe he can pick us up." "Fine by me." I just wanted to get as far away from Sophia's house as possible. "I'd walk to Mexico now if it meant never seeing Ryan again." We started down the sidewalk, my heels clicking against the concrete. The neighborhood was upscale, with sprawling houses set back from the road, but the street itself was poorly lit. The rumble of an engine cut her off as a convertible slowed beside us. Four guys crowded inside, the stench of alcohol wafting our way. The driver leaned over, his eyes crawling over my body before settling on my chest. "Hey, babes, want a ride?" He grinned, revealing a gold tooth. "We got plenty of room on our laps." His friends burst into laughter. The one in the passenger seat raised a bottle. "We're celebrating! Don't you wanna celebrate with us?" "Fuck off," Emilia snapped, pulling me closer. "Ooh, feisty!" The driver killed the engine. "I like feisty." One guy, thick-necked with a tribal tattoo, vaulted over the door. He staggered toward us, pointing at Emilia. "You got a mouth on you, blondie. Let's see what else it can do." Before I could react, he lunged forward and grabbed Emilia by her hair, yanking her head back. She screamed, clawing at his arm. "Let her go!" I shouted, my marketing executive persona vanishing as pure rage took over. I swung my purse, connecting with his temple. He stumbled but kept his grip on Emilia's hair. "Your friend wants to play rough, huh?" He leered at me, eyes fixed on my chest. "Nice tits. Bet they bounce real good." Chapter 3 Olivia's POV My fist throbbed from connecting with the guy's head, but it hadn't done enough. Emilia whimpered as he yanked her hair harder, forcing her head back at an unnatural angle. "Let her go, you piece of shit!" I hissed, fear and fury colliding in my chest. "Or what?" He laughed, his breath reeking of whiskey. "You gonna hit me with your little purse again?" The other men from the car were climbing out now, their movements predatory as they circled around us. The driver, with his gold tooth catching the dim streetlight, stepped toward me. "C'mon baby, we just wanna have some fun." His eyes never left my chest. "You're dressed like you want attention. We're just giving you what you want." "I want you to let my friend go and fuck off back to whatever sewer you crawled out of," I spat, backing away until I felt a tree behind me. "Ooh, she's got a mouth on her too," said another shorter but broad-shouldered guy wearing a baseball cap. "I like that. Makes it more fun when they fight a little." The driver reached for me, his fingers grazing my arm. I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!" "Playing hard to get?" He moved closer, pinning me against the tree. "That's cute." Emilia was still struggling against Tribal Tattoo's grip. "Liv, run! Just run!" "I'm not leaving you," I said, looking desperately around for anything I could use as a weapon. The driver pressed his body against mine; one hand braced on the tree beside my head. "Your friend's not going anywhere, and neither are you." His other hand reached for my breast. "Let's see if these feel as good as they look." I brought my knee up hard, aiming for his groin, but he twisted away at the last second. My knee glanced off his thigh. "Feisty bitch!" He grabbed my wrist, squeezing until I gasped in pain. Headlights suddenly illuminated the scene as another car screeched to a halt beside us. The engine cut off, and the driver's door opened. "Is there a problem here?" A deep voice cut through the night. A tall figure emerged from the shadows into the spill of a distant streetlight. Broad-shouldered and imposing in what looked like an expensive suit, he moved with a quiet confidence that commanded attention. "Mind your own business, man," Gold Tooth snarled, but I noticed he'd loosened his grip on my wrist. The newcomer stepped closer, and I caught my breath. Even in the dim light, I recognized him immediately. Alexander Carter. My boss's boss's boss. The CEO of Carter Enterprises, where I'd been working as a junior marketing executive for the past eight months. "I believe these ladies were telling you to leave them alone," he said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "I suggest you listen." Gold Tooth sneered. "What are you gonna do about it? There's four of us and one of you." Alexander didn't even blink. "True. But I've already called the police, and they're on their way. I'm sure they'd be interested to know about four drunk men assaulting two women on a public street." Tribal Tattoo finally released Emilia's hair, shoving her forward. "Whatever, man. These bitches ain't worth the trouble." Emilia stumbled toward me, and I caught her, pulling her close. "You okay?" I whispered. She nodded, rubbing her scalp. "Bastard nearly ripped my hair out." Gold Tooth took a step toward Carter, puffing out his chest. "You think you're some kind of hero? Rich boy in his fancy car?" Alexander simply stared him down, not moving an inch. "I think I'm someone who doesn't want to see two women harassed by drunken idiots. Now, you can leave on your own, or you can wait for the police. Your choice." For a tense moment, I thought Gold Tooth might throw a punch. Instead, he spat on the ground near Alexander's polished shoes. "Let's go," he muttered to his friends. "These sluts aren't worth jail time." They piled back into their convertible, engine roaring to life. Gold Tooth revved it aggressively before peeling away, tires screeching. Alexander turned to us. "Are you both all right?" Up close, he was even more intimidating than he was at company events. Tall, with sharp features and piercing gray eyes, he had the kind of face that belonged in business magazines, where it often appeared. Despite the late hour, his dark hair was neatly styled, not a strand out of place. "We're okay," I managed, suddenly conscious of my appearance: disheveled hair, makeup probably smeared from crying earlier, and this ridiculous dress that now felt like a terrible mistake. "Thank you for stopping." "Do you need a ride somewhere?" he asked, his eyes briefly dropping to my chest before snapping back to my face. "Our cab canceled," Emilia said, still rubbing her scalp. "And my boyfriend's not answering his phone." Alexander gestured to his car, a sleek black car. "I'm happy to drive you both home." I hesitated. This was Alexander Carter, the man who signed my paychecks and whose name was on the building where I worked. The man was known for his ruthless business tactics and cold demeanor. The last thing I needed was for him to realize I was one of his employees, especially looking like this. "That's very kind," I said carefully, "but we don't want to impose." "It's no imposition," he replied. "I'd rather not leave you out here after what just happened." Emilia looked at me with raised eyebrows, silently communicating: "Are you crazy? Free ride in a sleek car with a hot, rich guy? Say yes!" "If you're sure it's not too much trouble," I relented. "Not at all." He opened the backseat door. "Please." The car's interior was all black leather and gleaming surfaces. It smelled of expensive cologne and a new car, a heady combination that made my head spin—or maybe that was the adrenaline crash. "I'm Alexander Carter," he said as he slid behind the wheel. "Olivia," I replied, deliberately omitting my last name. "And this is Emilia." "Pleasure to meet you both, despite the circumstances." He started the engine, which purred to life. "Where am I taking you?" Emilia gave him her address first, and then I gave him mine. "Rough night?" he asked as we pulled away from the curb. Emilia snorted. "You could say that. We were at a birthday party where Liv caught her boyfriend banging the birthday girl." "Emilia!" I hissed, mortified. Alexander's eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that." "It's fine," I mumbled, wishing I could disappear into the leather seat. "It's not fine," Emilia insisted. "Ryan is a cheating scumbag who deserves to have his dick fall off." A small smile tugged at the corner of Alexander's mouth. "I take it Ryan is the ex-boyfriend?" "As of about a few minutes ago, yes," I confirmed, wondering why I was discussing my love life with my CEO. "Well, for what it's worth," he said, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the mirror again, "he sounds like an idiot." Chapter 4 Olivia's POV The car fell silent as we drove through the streets of Los Angeles, the city lights blurring past the windows. I studied Alexander's profile, the strong jaw, and straight nose, wondering why he'd stopped to help us. Everything I'd heard about him at work painted him as cold, distant, focused only on the bottom line. We reached Emilia's apartment building first. Alexander pulled up to the curb, the engine purring quietly as he shifted into park. "This is me," Emilia announced, gathering her purse. She leaned over to hug me, using the moment to whisper in my ear. "Holy fuck, Liv. He's hot as balls. If he wants to bang you senseless tonight, you better fucking do it. The best way to get over Ryan is to get under the CEO. Shit, those hands look like they know what they're doing." I pulled back, shooting her a death glare that could have melted steel. "What?" she mouthed innocently before turning to Alexander. "Thanks for the ride, knight in shining Armani. You're a lifesaver." "It was no trouble," he replied politely. Emilia opened the door, then paused to give me one last meaningful look. "Call me tomorrow with ALL the details." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Goodbye, Emilia," I said firmly, my cheeks burning. She blew me a kiss and slammed the door, sauntering toward her building with a little extra sway in her hips, no doubt for Alexander's benefit. As we pulled away, I sank deeper into the leather seat, mortified. "I'm so sorry about her. She has no filter." Alexander's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "No need to apologize. She seems like a good friend." "The best," I admitted. "Even if she occasionally makes me want to strangle her." His lips quirked upward, almost a smile but not quite. "Those are often the best kinds of friends." We lapsed into silence as he navigated through the streets of Los Angeles. The city lights streamed past the windows, creating a kaleidoscope effect that matched my swirling thoughts. I caught Alexander glancing at me in the mirror a few times, his expression unreadable. "Left at the next light," I directed as we approached my neighborhood. He nodded, making the turn smoothly. "Here we are," he announced, pulling up to my apartment building. It wasn't fancy by LA standards but clean and in a decent area. I could just barely afford it on my junior executive salary. He turned off the engine and, to my surprise, got out to open my door. His hand extended to help me out, warm and solid as I took it. The contact sent an unexpected jolt up my arm. "Thank you again," I said, reluctantly letting go of his hand. "For everything tonight." Alexander studied me for a moment, his gray eyes intense. "I hope you're able to move past what happened tonight. Your boyfriend, or rather your ex-boyfriend, clearly didn't appreciate what he had." The unexpected kindness in his voice made my throat tighten. "I'll be fine," I managed. "I'm sure you will," he agreed. "Someone like you won't stay single for long unless you want to." I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Was Alexander Carter, CEO of Carter Enterprises, flirting with me? No, that was ridiculous. He was just being polite. "Goodnight, Olivia," he said, stepping back toward his car. "Goodnight, Alexander. And thank you for the ride." He nodded once, then slid back into his car. I watched as he drove away, his taillights disappearing around the corner before I turned and entered my building. The elevator ride to my fourth-floor apartment felt endless. My keys jangled in my shaking hands as I unlocked my door, stepping into the darkness of my living room. I flipped on the light, tossed my purse on the counter, and kicked off my heels. The silence of my apartment pressed in around me. Just hours ago, I'd been getting ready for what I thought would be a normal night out with my boyfriend. Now, everything had changed. I peeled off the black cocktail dress and threw it in the trash. Never again would I wear something just because a man told me it looked good on me. In my bathroom, I scrubbed off my makeup. The woman in the mirror looked tired, her eyes red-rimmed but clear. I pulled on an oversized t-shirt and fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, probably Ryan finally realizing what he'd lost. I ignored it. Why had he done it? Two years together, and he throws it all away for Sophia? Had he been sleeping with her all along? The signs had been there: the late nights at work, the sudden business trips, the way his phone was always face-down when I was around. I'd trusted him completely. What a fool I'd been. My phone buzzed again. This time, I glanced at it. Emilia. "You home safe? Did Mr. CEO make a move? Please say yes." I texted back: "Yes, I'm home. No, he didn't. Go to sleep." Her response was immediate: "Boring! But seriously, you okay?" "I will be," I replied and realized I meant it. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and stared at the ceiling, my mind racing despite my exhaustion. Sleep seemed impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ryan thrusting into Sophia, her smug face, his pathetic excuses. "Fuck," I whispered to the empty room. "Two years down the drain." I rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. Two years of holidays, family gatherings, inside jokes—all tainted now. But something else kept intruding on my thoughts: Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes in the rearview mirror. Alexander Carter. My CEO. The man I'd just met while looking like a complete disaster. "He probably won't even remember me tomorrow," I muttered, flipping onto my back again. "Why would he? He's Alexander fucking Carter." The ceiling offered no answers. I'd worked at Carter Enterprises for eight months and never once spoken to him. I'd seen him striding through the lobby, standing at podiums during company-wide meetings, his face on the company website and annual reports. Always distant. Always untouchable. And now he'd seen me at my absolute worst, heartbroken in a slutty dress. "Great first impression, Olivia. Really professional." I snorted at my own sarcasm. It was as if Alexander Carter would ever connect the disheveled woman he'd rescued with Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. Our worlds didn't intersect. He inhabited the executive floor with its panoramic views of Los Angeles. At the same time, I worked in my cubicle fifteen floors below, crafting social media campaigns for products I could barely afford. I pulled the covers over my head, trying to force sleep to come. But my brain had other ideas, conjuring an image of running into Alexander in the office elevator. Would he recognize me? Would I have the courage to thank him again? Would he look at me with those intense gray eyes and see past the professional facade to the woman he'd rescued? "As if," I mumbled into my pillow. "He probably rescues women from creeps every weekend. It's probably a rich guy's hobby." But what if he did remember me? What if our paths crossed in the office cafeteria or during a presentation? What would I say? Chapter 5 Alexander's POV I parked my car in the circular driveway of my parent's estate, taking a moment to prepare myself for the inevitable Carter family dynamics. Sunday dinner at the Carter mansion, a tradition as old as the oak trees lining the property, was something I both dreaded and looked forward to. The mansion stood like a monument to old money, with stone façades and manicured gardens that screamed, "We've had wealth for generations." My phone buzzed with an email from work, but I ignored it. Work could wait, but family obligations couldn't, especially when Grandfather Harold was involved. I straightened my tie and headed inside, where Martha, our longtime housekeeper, greeted me with a warm smile. "Mr. Alexander, everyone's waiting in the drawing room. Your grandfather arrived early." That was never a good sign. Grandfather arriving early meant he had an agenda. "Is Victoria here?" I asked, handing Martha my coat. "Yes, sir. With her husband. They arrived about an hour ago." Perfect. My cousin Victoria and her investment banker husband Thomas, the power couple who never let anyone forget how perfect their life was. The drawing room buzzed with conversation that stopped when I entered. Mother rose from her seat, elegant as always in her pearl necklace and tailored dress. "Alexander, darling. We were beginning to worry." I kissed her cheek. "Traffic was terrible. Sorry, I'm late." Father nodded from his armchair, whiskey in hand. "Son." That was Father, a man of few words unless discussing business or golf. Victoria sat perched on the antique sofa, her husband's arm draped around her shoulder in that possessive way I found irritating. My sister Valentina was there, too, scrolling through her phone. But it was Grandfather Harold who commanded the room from his wheelchair. At seventy-eight, he might have lost some mobility but none of his mental sharpness or business acumen. "Alexander," he barked. "Sit down. We need to talk." I took a seat across from him. "Good to see you too, Grandfather." "Don't get smart with me, boy. I've been waiting." Victoria smirked. "Some of us manage to arrive on time, cousin dear." I ignored her. "What's this about? I thought this was just dinner." Grandfather Harold waved his hand dismissively. "Dinner can wait. This is about the future of Carter Enterprises." The room fell silent. When Grandfather talked about the company's future, everyone paid attention. He'd built Carter Enterprises from a small family business into a corporate empire and, at seventy-eight, still held the controlling stake. "I've been updating my will," he announced. Mother gasped softly. Father set down his whiskey. "Oh, relax; I'm not dying yet," Grandfather snapped. "Just getting my affairs in order. And I've made some decisions about the company shares." I leaned forward. As CEO, I had a significant stake in the company, but Grandfather's controlling shares would eventually determine who truly ran Carter Enterprises. "Alexander," he fixed his steely gaze on me. "You've done well as CEO. Profits are up. The board is happy. But there's something missing." "Missing?" I frowned. "Our last quarter was our best in five years." "I'm not talking about business." He thumped his cane on the floor. "I'm talking about family. Stability. A legacy." Victoria's husband coughed discreetly. Victoria's smile widened. "What exactly are you saying, Grandfather?" Harold Carter leaned forward in his wheelchair. "I'm saying that to inherit my controlling shares in Carter Enterprises, you need to be married within six months." The room exploded in reactions. Mother gasped again. Father actually put down his drink. Valentina looked up from her phone. Victoria burst into delighted laughter. "Married?" I stared at him. "You can't be serious." "Dead serious." Grandfather's expression didn't change. "Carter Enterprises has always been family-run. Family means stability. Commitment." "I'm committed to the company!" "But not to anything or anyone else." Grandfather shook his head. "You're thirty-three, Alexander. Your relationships last shorter than some of our quarterly reports." Victoria couldn't contain herself. "Oh, this is priceless. Is Alexander getting married? He can't even keep a girlfriend past the three-month mark." "Thank you for that astute observation, Victoria," I said, forcing a smile. "Always a pleasure to have your support." Uncle Richard, Victoria's father, chuckled from the corner of the room. "The boy does have a track record." "A track record?" My father set his tumbler down with more force than necessary. "Last year, we selected a perfectly suitable woman for him. The engagement was announced in the Times, for God's sake. And then what happened, Alexander?" I loosened my tie slightly. "Dad—" "He canceled it two weeks before the wedding," Father continued, addressing the room like I wasn't there. "The merger nearly fell apart because of it." Aunt Patricia gasped dramatically. "Penelope Langford? Such a lovely girl and from a good family. What a shame." "She wasn't right for me," I said firmly. Valentina finally looked up from her phone. "He didn't like her. Said she reminded him of a corporate spreadsheet – technically perfect but utterly boring." "Thank you for sharing that, Val," I muttered. My sister shrugged and went back to her phone. "Just telling it like it is." Grandfather Harold thumped his cane again. "Enough! The terms are simple. Alexander marries within six months, or Victoria receives my controlling stake in the company." Victoria nearly spilled her champagne in excitement. "Really, Grandfather? You'd give me control?" Her husband Thomas straightened his posture, dollar signs practically visible in his eyes. "I didn't build this company for forty years to watch it get dismantled by your husband's investment firm," Grandfather snapped at Victoria. "But at least you understand commitment." I stood up, pacing the Persian rug. "This is absurd. You're reducing the future of our family business to whether or not I get married? What century is this?" "The century where actions have consequences," Grandfather replied. "Victoria may be insufferable—" "Hey!" Victoria protested. "—but she's stable. Married. Committed." Victoria's smirk returned. "Face it, Alexander. You couldn't commit to a woman if your life depended on it. Now your career does, and we all know how that's going to end." Something snapped inside me. I'd tolerated Victoria's barbs for years, but this was different. This was my life's work at stake. "You know what, Victoria? You're wrong." "Am I?" She swirled her champagne. "Name one relationship you've had that lasted longer than a corporate quarterly report." My cousin Matthew, who'd been silently watching the drama unfold, whistled low. "She's got you there, Alex." I straightened my shoulders. "I'll do it. I'll get married within six months." The room fell silent again. "To whom?" Father asked skeptically. "I'll figure that out." Victoria burst into laughter. "Oh, this is too good! Alexander Carter, CEO and eligible bachelor, desperately seeking a wife. Should we put an ad in the classifieds?" Her husband joined in. "Maybe we should start interviewing candidates. Create a shortlist." "I don't need help finding someone," I said through gritted teeth. Aunt Elizabeth, who'd been quietly knitting in the corner, looked up. "What about that nice PR director at your company? Jennifer, something?" "She's married, Mother," Victoria said. "Oh. Well, what about your assistant?" "I'm not marrying my assistant, Aunt Elizabeth." Grandfather Harold raised his hand for silence. "The terms are set. Six months from today." Uncle Richard raised his glass. "To Alexander's impending nuptials! May he find a bride before Victoria gets his office." Victoria clinked glasses with her father. "I'm already planning where to put my new desk." I clenched my jaw. "Enjoy the fantasy while it lasts, cousin. I'm not losing the company." "Six months, Alexander," Grandfather reminded me. "The clock starts now." Chapter 6 Olivia 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. There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)👇👇👇 #Goodnovel #novel