The CEO's Contractual Wife
Los Angeles 2
Olivia
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 nevering.”
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.”
This book had been
“A thing?” I repeated, heat rising to my face. “Howadded on youning’ been happening?”
bookshelf.
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 au- dacity to smirk. “Ryan and I have an understanding. It’s just sex. Great sex, but still just sex.”
“An understanding?” Iughed, the sound brittle and foreign to my ears. “And when exactly were you nning to in- clude me in this understanding? After you gave me cmydia, 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 be- hind 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 moralpass, you backstabbing bitch.”
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“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? Fashionpliments?”
“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 re before following me out. We marched down the hallway, my legs somehow carry- ing me forward despite feeling like they might copse.
“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 urred upstairs. The music seemed too loud now, theughter 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.
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Once out of sight, myposure crumbled. I stopped walking, my breathing 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 Cafést 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 with- out 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 avable. 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 alco- hol 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 ourps.”
His friends burst intoughter. The one in the passenger seat raised a bottle. “We’re celebrating! Don’t you wanna cel-
ebrate 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, w- ing at his arm.
“Let her go!” I shouted, my marketing executive persona vanishing as pure rage took over. I swung my purse, con- necting with his temple.
He stumbled but kept his grip on Emilia’s hair. “Your friend wants to y rough, huh?” He lecred at me, eyes fixed on my chest. “Nice tits. Bet they bounce real good.”