Olivia

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    The cool air hit my face as I stepped onto the sidewalk, a wee relief after the tension inside. My phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out, half–expecting to see Ryan’s name. Instead, it was a text from Alfred.

    Alfred: Mrs. Carter, your new vehicle has been delivered ito /ithe estate. The paperwork is on the kitchen counter for your review.

    I smiled, excitement bubbling up inside me. My Porsche had arrived. I quickly texted back a thank you before checking the time. I still had ten minutes before my next meeting, just enough time topose myself and push all thoughts of Ryan away.

    By the time I returned to the office, I was focused again on the Thompson project. The meeting with my team went smoothly, with everyone presenting innovative concepts for the hotel rebrand. Even Michelle seemed impressed with our

    progress.

    “Great work, everyone,” I said as we wrapped up.

    The rest of the workday passed in a blur of meetings and emails. By six o’clock, I was exhausted but eager to get home and see my new car. I gathered my things and headed down to the parking garage, where Alexander was waiting by his Aston Martin.

    “Ready to see your new car?” he asked, eyes twinkling with anticipation.

    “More than ready. Alfred texted that it was delivered.”

    Alexander opened the passenger door for me. “I made sure they polished it extra before delivery.”

    The drive home was quicker than usual, Alexander apparently sensing my excitement. When we pulled into the estate’s circr driveway, I spotted it immediately, gleaming in the fading sunlight, parked prominently near the front

    steps.

    “Oh my god,” I breathed, barely waiting for Alexander to stop his car before

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    unbuckling my seatbelt.

    Heughed as I practically bolted from the Aston Martin. “I take it you approve?”

    I approached the Porsche slowly, drinking in its sleek lines and perfect finish. It was even more beautiful than I remembered from the dealership. The metallic green paint shifted subtly as I circled it, revealing hints of blue in certain light.

    “It’s perfect,” I whispered, running my fingers along the smooth hood.

    Alexander appeared beside me, dangling the keys. “Take it for a spin.”

    I snatched the keys with childlike eagerness. “Want toe?”

    “Lead the way, Mrs. Carter.”

    I slid into the driver’s seat, inhaling the intoxicating new car smell: leather, polish, and something indefinably luxurious. Alexander settled into the passenger seat as I adjusted the mirrors and seat position.

    “The battery’s fully charged,” he said. “You’ve got about 320 miles of range.”

    I pressed the start button, and the car came alive silently, disys illuminating with a futuristic blue glow. The only sound was my excited breathing.

    “This is insane,” I muttered, gripping the steering wheel.. “I can’t believe this is mine.”

    “Believe it,” Alexander said, looking pleased with my reaction. “Now let’s see what it

    can do.”

    I pulled away from the house carefully, getting a feel for the responsive steering and smooth eleration. By the time we reached the main road, my confidence

    was growing.

    “Try sport mode,” Alexander suggested, pointing to a button on the center console.

    I pressed it, and immediately the car felt more alert, responding to the slightest touch on the elerator. Iughed with delight as we elerated down an empty stretch of road, the Porsche surging forward with silent, electric power,

    “Holy shit,” I gasped as we hit sixty miles per hour in what felt like seconds. “This is

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    unbelievable.”

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    Alexander grinned. “Nothing like the feeling of a car with this much power, is there? And all electric too.”

    I navigated through winding roads, getting morefortable with each mile. The car handled beautifully, hugging curves and responding ito /imy everymand like it could read my mind.

    Back at the estate, I parked carefully in the garage next to Alexander’s Aston Martin. The two cars looked good together, like they belonged side by side.

    “Thank you,” I said, turning to face him as we stood in the garage. “I’ve never owned anything this amazing.”

    “You deserve it,” he said simply. “Now, shall we eat? Chef mentioned something about grilled salmon.”

    I nodded, suddenly realizing I was famished. We headed inside, where the aroma of grilled fish and herbs filled the air. Chef had outdone himself again, setting the dining room table with an elegant spread of salmon, roasted vegetables, and a quinoa sd.

    “This looks amazing,” I said, sliding into my chair as Alfred poured white wine into crystal sses.

    Alexander sat across from me, unfolding his napkin with practiced grace. “How was work today? Any progress with the Thompson ount?”

    “Actually, yes. The team came up with some fantastic concepts,” I said, taking a bite of the perfectly cooked salmon. “But something else happened today that I should probably tell you about.”

    Alexander looked up, one eyebrow raised in question. “Oh?”

    I pushed a piece of asparagus around my te, suddenly feeling awkward. “Ryan called me today. Several times. He was pretty insistent about meeting up. Said it was urgent.”

    Alexander’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “And did you?”

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    I nodded, taking a sip of wine. “I met him for coffee at Baker’s Cafe.”

    “I see.” His voice was carefully neutral. “And what was so urgent?”

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    “That’s the weird part,” I said, leaning forward. “He started asking all these questions about us. About our marriage. He seemed convinced there was something… off about it.”

    “Off?” Alexander set down his fork. “In what way?”

    “He said it seemed too fast. That I wasn’t the type to rush into marriage. He actually had the nerve to imply I married you for your money.”

    Alexander’s eyes darkened. “Did he, now?”

    “It gets worse,” I continued, feeling a flush of anger just remembering. “He said he was going to ‘find out the truth‘ about why we got married.”

    “Is that a threat?” Alexander’s voice was dangerously quiet.

    “I don’t know what it is,” I admitted. “I told him to back off and that my life wasn’t his business anymore.”

    “Good.” Alexander took a measured sip of wine. “But if he approaches you again, I want to know about it immediately.”

    “I can handle Ryan,” I insisted.

    “I’m sure you can,” Alexander replied, his tone gentling. “But you shouldn’t have to. If he contacts you again or causes any trouble, I’ll take care of it.”

    “What exactly does ‘take care of it‘ mean?”

    The corner of Alexander’s mouth quirked up. “Nothing illegal, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I have resources and connections that can make life very ufortable for someone who’s harassing my wife.”

    “I don’t think it’lle to that,” I said quickly. “He probably just needed to get it off his chest. I doubt he’ll bother me again.”

    “If he does-”

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    “I’ll tell you,” I promised. “But let’s not waste any more dinner conversation on Ryan, please.”

    Alexander nodded, returning to his salmon. “Fair enough. Actually, there is something I wanted to discuss with you.”

    “Is everything okay?” I asked, suddenly worried.

    AD