bChapter 87 /b

    Olivia

    Emilia’s speech was next, heartfelt and emotional. “I’ve known Olivia for years, and I’ve never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at Alexander. It’s like she can’t believe her luck, which, let’s be honest, is understandable. Have you seen him?”

    Laughter rippled through the crowd. Alexander squeezed my hand, a small smile ying at his lips.

    “But seriously,” Emilia continued, her voice softening, “what makes this love story special is how they bnce each other. Alexander might be this powerful CEO, but with Olivia, he’s just a man in love. And Olivia, who’s always been the most practical person I know, absolutely lights up around him. To Olivia and Alexander, may your marriage be as beautiful as it looks from the outside!”

    More toasts followed, with Harold giving a surprisingly warm speech about legacy and love, Victoria offering congrattions that sounded almost sincere, and finally, my father.

    “When Olivia first told us she was dating her boss, I was skeptical,” Dad admitted, his voice slightly rough with emotion. “But the first time I saw them together, I knew this was something real. Alexander, you’ve not only won my daughter’s heart, but you’ve be part of our family. Thank you for everything you’ve done for usb, /bespecially for making sure I’d be here today to walk my little girl down the aisle.”

    I blinked back tears, guilt and gratitude warring inside me. Alexander’s arm slid around my waist, pulling me closer. To anyone watching, we were the perfect picture of newlywed bliss.

    “First dance!” the wedding nner announced, and suddenly Alexander was leading me to the center of the dance floor.

    The string quartet began ying “La Vie en Rose,” a choice Alexander had made that had surprised me with its romance and sentiment.

    “Ready?” he murmured, one hand settling on my waist while the other took mine.

    “As I’ll ever be,” I replied, cing my free hand on his shoulder.

    Alexander was an excellent dancer, effortlessly leading me across the floor. He pulled me closer than necessary, my body pressed against the solid warmth of his chest. I could feel his steady and strong heartbeat.

    “Everyone’s watching,” I whispered.

    “Let them,” he replied, his voice low and intimate. “They’re seeing exactly what they should: a man dancing with his beautiful wife.”

    The way he said “wife” sent a shiver through me.

    “Are you cold?” he asked, noticing my reaction.

    “No, I admitted. “This feels so real sometimes.”

    His eyes met mine, something unreadable in their depths. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

    Before I could respond, the song ended, and guests were invited to join us on the dance floor. The moment was broken as my father cut in to dance with me, and Alexander was imed by his grandmother.

    The rest of the reception passed in a whirlwind of dancing, cake–cutting (where Alexander resisted the urge to smash cake in my face, thankfully), and more champagne than was probably wise. By the time we prepared to leave for our “honeymoon,” my cheeks hurt from smiling and my feet ached from dancing.

    b1/3 /b

    “Ready to go, Mrs. Carter?” Alexander asked, appearing at my side as bI /bsaid goodbye to ire and Ariana.

    “Yes,” I said, realizing I bwas /bready to escape the festivities.

    We made our grand exit through a shower of rose petals, guests cheering as Alexander helped me into the waiting limousine. As soon as the door closed behind us, I kicked off my heels with a groan of relief.

    “Finally,” I sighed, leaning back against the leather seat.

    Alexander loosened his tic, looking more rxed than he had all day. “You were perfect.”

    “So were you,” I admitted.

    The limo pulled away smoothly, and I suddenly realized I had no idea where we were going. “Wait, where are we headed? To your penthouse or the mansion? This honeymoon is fake too, right?”

    Alexander turned to me, one eyebrow raised. “How can you be sure the honeymoon is fake, Olivia?” His voice had a teasing edge that made my stomach flip. “We need to convince everyone this marriage is real. My grandfather is watching us closely. Only after he’spletely satisfied will I get control of thepany; otherwise, Victoria wins everything.”

    I stared at him, trying to read his expression in the dim light of the limo. “So, where are we going now?” My mind raced with possibilities. “Is this a real honeymoon?”

    ‘It’s whatever we want it to be.” Alexander’s eyes gleamed as he reached for a bottle of champagne nestled in an ice bucket. ‘But yes, we’re going on a proper honeymoon. Two weeks at my private ind in the Caribbean. Completely secluded, white sand beaches, staff that know how to make themselves invisible unless needed.”

    I took arge gulp of champagne. “But what about work?”

    Already taken care of. I spoke with your supervisor. You’re officially on honeymoon leave for two weeks.” His fingers brushed mine as he took the ss from my hand. “No interruptions. No distractions. Just us.”

    Just us,” I repeated weakly.

    ‘Is that a problem?” Alexander’s voice dropped lower. “Spending two weeks alone with your husband?”

    The word “husband” sent a shiver through me. “No, it’s just unexpected.”

    ‘Get used to it. I’m full of surprises.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Starting with tonight.”

    My pulse quickened. “What happens tonight?”

    ‘Whatever you want to happen.” His handnded on my thigh, warm through the silk of my dress. “I meant what I said before. This arrangement works best if we both get what we want out of it.”

    I swallowed hard. “And what do you want, exactly?”

    His eyes darkened as they roamed over me. “Right now? I want to peel that beautiful dress off you and see what my wife is hiding underneath.”

    Heat flooded my body. “Alexander-”

    “We’re married now,” he said, his voice like velvet. “You signed a contract that included physical intimacy. But I won’t force anything. The choice is yours.”

    My mouth went dry as his hand inched higher on my thigh. “Where are we going right now? Before the ind?”

    “My jet is waiting at the private airfield. We’ll fly out tonight. His thumb traced small circles on my inner thigh. “Unless you’d prefer to wait until tomorrow. We could spend our wedding night at the penthouse instead

    The thought of spending the night with Alexander, whether at the penthouse or on a ne, sent me a rush of conflicting emotions. Nervousness, yes, but also unmistakable desire.