Olivia

    I stepped out of Alexander’s sleek Aston Martin, the soft hum of the engine cutting off as we arrived at the Children’s Hospital Foundation g.

    The venue was lit up against the night sky, a historic hotel in downtown Los Angeles that had been transformed for the evening’s charity event. Valets in crisp uniforms hurried to assist arriving guests, and I smoothed down the silk of my midnight blue gown, grateful for the stylist Alexander had arranged.

    “Ready?” Alexander asked, appearing at my side and offering his arm.

    I took it, feeling the solid warmth of him through his tuxedo jacket. “As I’ll ever

    be.”

    He looked devastating in his tuxedo, the perfect cut emphasizing his broad shoulders and trim waist. Several women openly stared as we climbed the steps to the entrance, and I couldn’t me them. The man was unfairly handsome.

    “You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured, his lips close to my ear. “That dress was made for you.”

    “So you’ve said. Three times now.” I smiled up at him, oddly pleased by his repetition.

    “I’ll say it again if necessary. You’re going to be the most beautiful woman in that

    room.”

    When we entered, the grand ballroom took my breath away. Crystal chandeliers hung from impossibly high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the assembled guests. Round tables dressed in white linen surrounded a dance floor, each adorned with borate floral centerpieces that must have cost a fortune. An orchestra yed at one end of the room, the music providing an elegant backdrop to the gentle hum of conversation.

    “Champagne?” Alexander asked, snagging two flutes from a passing waiter.

    “Thank you.” I epted the ss, using the moment to scan the crowd. Everyone was dressed impably: designer gowns, custom tuxedos, jewelry that could fund

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    a small nation.

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    “The Carter table is over there,” Alexander said, nodding toward a prime location near the stage. “Grandfather’s already here.”

    I followed his gaze to see Harold Carter holding court at the table, surrounded by several well–dressed people who seemed to hang on his every word. Even confined to his wheelchair, hemanded attention.

    We made our way across the room, pausing several times as people stopped Alexander to exchange greetings. He introduced me smoothly each time, his hand never leaving my back, a gesture that felt both possessive and reassuring.

    “Alexander!” A middle–aged woman in a stunning red gown approached us, air- kissing Alexander’s cheeks. “So good to see you. And this must be your new wife we’ve all been hearing about.”

    “Olivia, this is Senator ra Daniels,” Alexander introduced. “Senator, my wife, Olivia Carter.”

    “Lovely to meet you,” the senator said, giving me an appraising look. “I understand congrattions are in order. The marriage took us all by surprise. I hope you’ll both join us at theke house this summer. The annual fundraiser for children’s literacy?”

    “We’ll check our calendars,” Alexander promised.

    As we continued toward the Carter table, I leaned closer to Alexander. “Senator Daniels seemed surprised by our marriage.”

    “Everyone is,” he replied, unbothered. “I wasn’t exactly known for mymitment before you.”

    Before I could respond, we reached the table where Harold sat with Charles and Julia Carter.

    “There they are,” Harold announced, extending his hand to Alexander. “The newlyweds.”

    Alexander shook his grandfather’s hand. “Good evening, Grandfather. Mother, Father.” He nodded to his parents.

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    “Olivia, darling,” Julia rose to kiss my cheek. “That dress is stunning.”

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    “Thank you,” I replied, grateful for the warm greeting. “It’s good to see you again.”

    Harold gestured to the empty chairs beside him. “Sit down, both of you. I want to hear all about the honeymoon.”

    We settled into our seats, and I smiled as Alexander’s hand found mine on the table.

    “The honeymoon was perfect,” I said. “The ind was beautiful.”

    “Alexander always did have good taste,” Harold remarked, looking between us with shrewd eyes. “In business and, it seems, in wives.”

    “High praise from you, Grandfather,” Alexander said, a smile ying at his lips.

    Harold harrumphed. “Don’t let it go to your head. Now tell me, how’s married life treating you so far?”

    I nced at Alexander, letting him take this one.

    “Surprisingly well,” he answered, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. “Turns out I’m better at being a husband than expected.”

    “You’ve only been married a month,” Charles pointed out dryly. “The real testester.”

    “We’re taking it one day at a time,” I said, squeezing Alexander’s hand.

    Harold’s eyes twinkled with unexpected mischief. “The secret to a sessful marriage ispromise andmunication.”

    Iughed, genuinely amused. “Is that so?”

    “A good marriage is like a good business partnership. You need trust, clear boundaries, and shared goals.”

    “Wise words, Grandfather,” Alexander said, raising his champagne ss in a small

    toast.

    Harold leaned closer to me. “And don’t let this one work too much. Carter men

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    :

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    have a bad habit of putting business before family. Isn’t that right, Charles?”

    Charles looked ufortable. “Times were different then.”

    “The excuses change, the behavior doesn’t,” Harold retorted. “Learn from our mistakes, Alexander. Don’t wake up one day realizing you’ve built an empire but lost everything that matters.”

    An ufortable silence fell over the table. I searched for something to say when Julia came to the rescue.

    “The flowers are lovely this year, don’t you think? Much better thanst year’s arrangements.”

    The conversation shifted to safer topics as more guests arrived at our table.

    Victoria and Thomas eventually arrived, with Victoria looking stunning in her emerald gown.

    “Alexander, Olivia,” she greeted, taking the seat across from us. “How domestic you two look.”

    “Victoria,” Alexander acknowledged with a nod. “Thomas.”

    Thomas seemed more interested in scanning the room for important people than engaging with us. He excused himself almost immediately to speak with someone

    across the room.

    “Networking,” Victoria exined with an elegant shrug. “It’s what he does best.”

    Dinner was served, an borate five–course meal that would have impressed even the most demanding food critic.

    As dessert was being served, Harold turned his attention back to us. “You two muste to dinner next weekend. The whole family will be there.”

    “We’d love to,” Alexander replied, looking to me for confirmation.

    I nodded. “Of course.”

    “Good.” Harold seemed pleased. “We haven’t had a proper family dinner since the wedding.”

    :

    Victoria set down her dessert fork with deliberate care. “Don’t forget you promised toe to our ce.”

    Alexander’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “How could we forget?”

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    Harold looked between them, clearly sensing the tension. “y nice, you two. We’re in public.”

    “Always, Grandfather,” Victoria said sweetly.

    After dinner, the orchestra began ying more prominently, and couples moved to the dance floor. Alexander stood and offered me his hand.

    “Dance with me?”

    I took his hand and followed him to the dance floor, where he pulled me into his arms with practiced ease. One hand settled at my waist while the other held mine, and we began to move to the waltz.

    We moved around the dance floor, and I was acutely aware of eyes following us. The newly married CEO and his wife were the topic of much spection and gossip. I wondered what they saw when they looked at us: a power couple? A mismatch? A genuine romance?

    “Stop thinking so hard,” Alexander murmured.

    “How do you know I’m thinking hard?”

    “You get this little crease between your eyebrows.” His thumb brushed my forehead gently. “Right there.”

    I rxed into his arms, letting the music guide us. “This is nice.”

    “It is,” he agreed, surprising me with his sincerity.