Chapter b159 /b

Olivia

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I watched his profile, the way his jaw clenched and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The perfect weekend bubble had officially burst.

“So…” I ventured after a moment of tense silence. “Penelope Langford.”

His eyes remained fixed on the road. “My ex.”

“I gathered that much,” I said, shifting in my seat to face him better. “What I don’t understand is why she’s suddenly interested in the Thompson ount. It’s not exactly front–page newsb.” /b

“It’s not about the ount,” Alexander said tly. “It’s about you.”

“Me?” I blinked in surprise. “What did I do?”

“You married me.”

The car elerated slightly as we merged onto the freeway, the engine purring with suppressed power much like Alexander himself.

“So this is what, payback?” I asked, trying to understand. “She loses you, so she tries to steal my project?”

Alexander’sugh was short and humorless. “Wee to high–stakes business in Los Angeles. Everything is personal, especially when it pretends not to be.”

I frowned, processing this. “But how would she even know I was leading the Thompson ount?”

“Because she makes it her business to know everything about Carter Enterprises.” Alexander changednes smoothly, overtaking a slower car. “Especially now.”

“Because of our marriage,” I concluded.

“Exactly.”

We drove in silence for a few minutes, the city lights blurring past my window. The perfect weekend at the Malibu house seemed like a distant memory now.

“You’re too quiet,” Alexander said finally. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking my professional sess is now a target because of who I married,” I said carefully. “That’s not what I signed up for.”

Alexander nced over at me. “Having second thoughts about being Mrs. Carter?”

“No,” I said quickly, then paused. “Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t realize I’d have a target on my back.”

“You’re married to me,” he said simply. “Of course, you have a target on your back.”

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b“/bbIs /bPenelope always this vindictive?” I asked.

Alexander’s expression darkened. “Let’s not talk about Penelope.”

“But if she’sing after my work-”

“She’s not worth discussing,” he cut me off. “Trust me.”

“Alexander, I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

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He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. She’s evil. Pure evil wrapped in designer clothes with a smile that could charm the devil himself. She’s ruthlessb, /bcalcting, and has the emotional depth of a kiddie pool. And she never, ever forgets a slight.”

I stared at him, taken aback by the venom in his voice. “Wow. And you almost married her?”

“Like I said, not worth discussing.” Alexander’s tone made it clear the subject was closed. “The point isb, /bdon’t worry about Penelope. I’ll handle her.”

“But it’s my project,” I protested. “My reputation on the line.”

“And you did brilliant work,” he assured me, his voice softening slightly. “Your presentation was wless. Andrew Thompson loved your vision for his hotels.”

Despite my concern, I felt a flutter of pride at his words. “But twice the advertising budget is tempting.”

“Quality beats quantity,” Alexander said confidently. “Your strategy is innovative. Authentic. Penelope’s will be whatever focus groups tell her will sell, regardless of whether it fits Thompson’s brand.”

“You really think so?” I asked, needing the reassurance.

“I know so.” Alexander reached over and squeezed my hand briefly. “There’s a reason I promoted you, Liv. And it wasn’t just because you look amazing naked.”

Iughed despite myself. “I should hope not.”

“Don’t worry about Penelope,” he repeated. “I’ll meet with Andrew tomorrow, remind him why he chose us in the first ce.”

“I should be there,” I said firmly. “It’s my project.”

Alexander considered this for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right. We’ll go together.”

“Thank you.” I sat back in my seat, feeling a little better. “So what’s Penelope’s angle here? Why make a y for this ount specifically?”

Alexander frowned. “I’m not entirely sure. The Thompson ount is valuable but not headline–worthy. There must be something else going on that I’m not seeing yet.”

“Something like what?”

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“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I intend to find out.”

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We fell into silence again as Alexander navigated through the evening traffic. I watched his profile, the sharp line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he focused on the road ahead. Whatever history he had with Penelope, it clearly ran deep.

“What?” he asked, catching me staring.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just… thank you. For including me in tomorrow’s meeting.”

His expression softened. “Of course. It’s your project.” He paused, then added, “And you’re my wife. We’re a

team now.”

The words sent a strange warmth through me despite the circumstances. A team. I liked the sound of that more than I probably should.

I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past, lost in thought about Penelope Langford. What was her angle? Why target the Thompson ount specifically? It seemed too calcted to be a coincidence.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Alexander observed, ncing at me. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just wondering who’s behind Penelope’s sudden interest in my project. It feels targeted.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just strange timing. She makes her move right after my presentation to Andrew Thompson? When the project is about tounch?” I turned to face him more fully. “bIs /bshe working alone, or is someone feeding her information?”

“Good question.” Alexander’s expression darkened. “Penelope is ambitious, but she doesn’t usually make moves this strategic without guidance.”

“So who’s pulling her strings?” I asked.

“I have my suspicions. But let’s not jump to conclusions until we have more information.”

We fell silent again as Alexander navigated through the Sunday evening traffic. My mind raced with possibilities. If someone was deliberately targeting my project, was it because of me specifically? Or was it about Alexander?

“Does she have connections at Carter Enterprises?b” /bbI /basked suddenly.

Alexander considered this. “Not directly. But she’s resourceful and well–connected.”

“Resourceful enough to know exactly when to approach Andrew Thompson with a counteroffer?”

“You think there’s a leak.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think the timing is suspicious.”

“I’ll look into it. Discretely.”

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We arrived at the estate, the gates opening automatically as we approached. Alexander pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, but made no move to get out.

“Stop thinking about Penelope,” he said, turning to face me. “She’s not worth your energy.”

“Easy for you to say. It’s not your project she’s trying to steal.”

“No, but it’s mypany.” He reached over, taking my hand. “Trust me, Liv. I’ll take care of this. Penelope

won’t win.”

“I can fight my own battles, Alexander.”

“I know you can.” His thumb traced circles on my palm. “But you don’t have to fight this one alone. That’s what I meant about being a team.”

I sighed, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. “Fine. But I want to be involved. No shutting me out because you think you’re protecting me.”

“Deal.” He lifted my hand to his lips, cing a gentle kiss on my knuckles. “Now, can we please forget about Penelope for the rest of the night? I’d rather not let her ruin what’s left of our weekend.”

I smiled despite myself. “What did you have in mind instead?”

His eyes darkened. “I can think of a few distractions.”

“I bet you can.” Iughed, pulling my hand away. “But I need to prep for tomorrow’s meeting with Andrew Thompson first.”

Alexander groaned dramatically. “Work before pleasure? You’re as bad as I am.”

“Pot, kettle,” I replied, opening my door. “Besides, I thought you liked that I take my job seriously.”

“I do,” he admitted, following me out of the car. “It’s sexy as hell.”

“Sexy, huh?” I raised an eyebrow as we walked to the front door.

“Incredibly,” he confirmed, his hand finding the small of my back. “Competence is a major turn–on.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I teased as Alfred opened the door for us.

“Wee home, Mr. and Mrs. Carter,” Alfred greeted us with his usual formality.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Alexander replied. “Any messages?”

“Just one, sir. Your grandfather called. He asked that you phone him at your earliest convenience.”

Alexander’s expression tightened slightly. “Tonight?”

“He said it wasn’t urgent, sir. Tomorrow would suffice.”

“Thank you,” Alexander said, leading me toward the staircase. “We’ll be in my office for a while. Could you

bring us some coffee?”

“Of course, sir.”

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As we climbed the stairs, I nced at Alexander. “Everything okay with your grandfather?”

“Probably just checking in after our weekend away,” he said, but there was a tension in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

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