bChapter /bb118 /b

    Olivia

    We turned onto a private road that curved through manicured grounds. As we approached, a wrought–iron gate swung open automatically, and I caught a glimpse of the security camera tracking our movement.

    “Wee to home sweet home,” Alexander said, guiding the Aston Martin up the winding driveway.

    My jaw literally dropped when the Carter estate came into full view. It wasn’t just a mansion; it was practically a pcei, /isprawling across what must have been at least three acres ofnd, with modern architecture that somehow managed to look both imposing and inviting.

    “Holy shit,” I breathed. “People actually live like this?”

    “We do now.”

    “How many rooms does this ce have?” I asked as we pulled up to the circr driveway.

    “Twenty–two bedrooms, seventeen bathrooms, a home theater, indoor and outdoor pools, a tennis court, a wine cer,

    and a few other amenities.” He parked the car in front of massive double doors. “Nothing too excessive.”

    I shot him a look. “Nothing too excessive?”

    “You’ll get used to it.” He killed the engine and turned to me. “Ready for the tour?”

    “Do I have a choice?”

    “Always.” His expression softened. “But I think you might actually enjoy this one.”

    The front doors opened as we approached, revealing a smartly dressed older man in what looked like a butler’s uniform.

    “Good morning, Mr. Carter,” he said with a slight bow/“Mrs. Carter, wee home.”

    “Thank youi, /iAlfred,” Alexander replied smoothly. “This is my wife, Olivia. Liv, this is Alfred, our house manager.”

    “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Alfred said.

    “Nice to meet you too.”

    Alexander ced his hand on my lower back, guiding me into the foyer. The space was breathtaking with soaring ceilings, marble floors, and a grand staircase that curved elegantly to the second floor.

    “How many staff work here?” I whispered as Alfred disappeared down a hallway.

    “Just a few. Alfred oversees everything. We have two housekeepers, a groundskeeper, and a chef whoes in a few times a week.”

    “Just a few,” I repeated faintly. “Right.”

    Alexander took my hand. “Come on. Let me show you around.”

    16:08 Sat, 23 Aug

    33%

    The tour was mind–boggling. Each room was more spectacr than thest, decorated in various styles that somehow flowed together seamlessly. Modern art hung on walls next to ssical pieces, and the furniture looked both expensive

    andfortable.

    “This is the main living room,” Alexander said, leading me into arger space with floor–to–ceiling windows that showcased a breathtaking view of an infinity pool and the gardens beyond. “We’ll entertain guests here, but there’s a

    smaller family room for everyday use.”

    “Family room,” I echoed, trying to imagine myself rxing in any of these perfect spaces.

    “Down this hallway is the kitchen,” he continued.

    +28)

    The kitchen was a chef’s dream, with all gleaming stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, and a center ind big enough to prepare food for fifty people.

    “Jesus,” I muttered. “I’m afraid to touch anything in here.”

    “It’s your kitchen. You can do whatever you want.” He leaned against the counter. “Although I should warn you, Chef Marcelo gets territorial.”

    “I’ll stick to making coffee,” I assured him.

    We continued through formal and informal dining rooms, a sun room, a massive library with floor–to–ceiling bookshelves, and a home office that made Alexander’s penthouse workspace look modest.

    “Upstairs is more interesting,” Alexander said with a suggestive smile, leading me toward the grand staircase.

    The master suite took up an entire wing of the second floor. The bedroom was enormous, centered around a king–sized bed that looked like it couldfortably fit four people.

    “This is where we’ll sleep,” Alexander said, watching my reaction carefully.

    “It’s big.”

    “That’s what all the women say,” he quipped.

    I smacked his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

    “Part of my charm.” He gestured toward a set of double doors. “Master bathroom through there. I think you’ll approve.”

    The bathroom was expansive, featuring a soaking tub for two, arge ss–enclosed shower with multiple heads, and his- and–hers vanities.

    “This shower is fucking insane,” I said, stepping into the ss enclosure.

    Alexander followed me. “Big enough for activities.”

    “is that all you think about?”

    “When I’m around you? Pretty much.” He pressed closer, backing me against the tile wall. “Want to christen it now?”

    10.00 bal, 25 Aug

    I ducked under his arm. “We don’t have time. You said so yourself.”

    “I can be quick when necessary,” he called as I escaped back into the bedroom.

    “Is that something to brag about?” I teased.

    His eyes narrowed. “You know exactly what I’m capable of.”

    Heat pooled between my legs at the memory. “Maybeter. Tour first.“”

    Alexander showed me through the walk–in closets and then led me to a balcony overlooking the grounds.

    33%1

    “The estate spans ten acres,” he said, pointing to various features. “Tennis courts there, guest house beyond those trees, and that building houses the indoor pool and gym.”

    “It’s incredible,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t feel real. Like I’m visiting a museum or a hotel.”

    “It will,” he promised, his hand finding mine. “Once your things are here. Once we make memories in every room.”

    The way he said it made my skin tingle. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

    “Both.” His smile was wicked. “I have ns for that dining room table.”

    “Alex!”

    “What? It’s sturdy. I checked.”

    “Of course you did,” Iughed, despite myself.

    28

    We continued the tour through guest rooms, each with its own bathroom and unique décor. Alexander exined that his grandfather had insisted on themed rooms: the blue room, the garden room, the oriental suite.

    “And this,” Alexander said, opening a door at the end of a hallway, “is my favorite room in the house.”

    It was a home theater, with plush recliners arranged in rows, a massive screen on one wall, and what looked like a professional–grade projector mounted from the ceiling.

    “Movie night just got an upgrade,” Imented.

    “Wait till you experience the sound system,” Alexander said proudly. “It’s better than mostmercial theaters.”

    After showing me a game roomplete with a pool table, dart board, and bar, Alexander led me back downstairs and toward the rear of the house.

    “There’s one more thing I want to show you,” he said, opening a set of French doors that led to a covered patio.

    The backyard was a masterpiece ofndscape design, with perfectly manicuredwns, elegant gardens, and the stunning infinity pool I’d glimpsed from the living room windows. A pool house stood to one side, and further out I could see a tennis court and what looked like a small orchard.

    “This is insane,” I murmured. “People actually live like this?”

    10:08 Sat, 23 Aug

    “We live like this now,” Alexander corrected, slipping his arm around my waist. “Better get used to it, Mrs. Carter.”

    The sound of tires on gravel caught our attention. Alexander frowned, checking his watch.

    “Are you expecting someone?” Lasked.

    “No,” he replied, already moving toward the front of the house. “Let’s see who it is.”

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