The Billionaire's Contract Wife

Chapter 5

Olivia's POV

I called Liv and told her that I had agreed to it. The words were barely out of my mouth before she squealed in excitement. Honestly, I expected her to be sad for me, or at least as conflicted as I was. But no, she was happy. Like, seriously? Wasn’t she supposed to be sympathetic—sad but relieved, like me? It was hilarious though, the way she carried my burden with such excitement, as if I was about to embark on some fairy-tale adventure. If only she knew.

Anyway, I was to move in today, according to the terms of the contract. Today. Just like that. No time to breathe, no time to process. The contract had so many rules, some of which I found almost ridiculous. It was just a year-long agreement, not a lifetime bond, yet the papers made it feel like I was about to sign my soul away. Still, what choice did I really have? Thankfully, I didn’t have much load to carry. Just a few bags. My whole life felt packed into them, which was a little depressing. I sat on the edge of my bed, waiting for Michael to send someone. Waiting for my new… reality.

It hit me then how long it had been since I visited Dad at the hospital. Days. Guilt washed over me like a heavy tide. The least I could do was check on him, so I reached for my phone and dialed Doc’s number. To my relief, she picked up on the second ring. “Doc, hello,” I said quickly, my voice carrying an edge of apology. “Alicia,” she greeted warmly. “How are things going with you?” “Well…” I hesitated, because where was I supposed to start? “How’s Dad doing? I’m so sorry for not coming around.” “It’s fine, I understand,” she replied gently. “Your dad is doing okay. He just misses you.” That hurt. He missed me. I bit my lip and tried not to sound too broken. “I’ll do well to come down when I can, Doc. Thank you so much.” “Sure. Take care.” Before I could hang up, I heard a knock on my door. Startled, I muttered a quick goodbye and opened it to a stranger. “Yes?” “Good afternoon, Ma’am. I’m Steve, Mr. Michael’s driver. I’ve come to take you.” “Oh. Okay, just one minute.” I quickly scanned my tiny room to be sure I wasn’t leaving anything behind. Satisfied, I grabbed my bags and followed him out.

The drive to Michael’s place was uneventful. Quiet. Almost too quiet. Steve wasn’t much of a talker, and I wasn’t in the mood to force small talk. My thoughts did enough chattering on their own. By the time we pulled through the massive gates, I was caught off guard.

An estate.

Of course, I wasn’t new to estates—I grew up in one myself—but this one screamed wealth in a way mine never did. Perfect lawns, houses that looked like they came out of glossy magazines, and silence that spoke of exclusivity. My chest tightened. This wasn’t my world anymore.

Steve finally stopped in front of the main house. Mansion, actually. “Ma’am, if you’d just wait here for Mr. Michael. He’ll be down shortly.” I nodded, clutching my bag tighter. Speak of the devil—Michael appeared almost immediately. “Alicia.” “Hello,” I replied softly. Without another word, he took my bags from me and walked inside. No questions, no pleasantries, no time for me to catch my breath. I hurried after him like some obedient little… contract wife. We climbed the stairs, and he showed me to a room. My room. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said curtly. “Thank you,” I whispered, but he had already turned away. The silence that followed was suffocating. It wrapped around me like a blanket I couldn’t push off. I sat on the bed, feeling smaller and smaller until, without realizing it, I drifted into sleep.

When I woke up, the room was dim. Time had slipped past me. Restless, I decided to explore. The hallway stretched long and quiet, the kind of quiet that made you tiptoe without realizing. That’s when I heard it. “Mum, I’ll set up a dinner for us to meet. No… I’ll do it. Just give me time. Yes. She’s not here. Bye.” His voice. Michael’s voice. My stomach knotted. He wasn’t talking about me… was he?

“I know you’re there.”

I froze. My heart dropped into my stomach. Busted. Then his voice again, sharper this time: “Alicia.” Swallowing hard, I stepped out from where I had been hiding. “I was just… walking around. Just to get familiar.” My words tumbled over themselves like excuses. Why was I explaining myself?

I moved closer to him without meaning to. The space between us shrank. “Looks like no one comes here,” I muttered, glancing around. “Do you take me for someone who likes company?” he shot back, stepping even closer. “Umm, no,” I whispered, caught off guard by his intensity. He was right at my face now. Our words stopped, but our eyes carried on the conversation. His gaze burned through me—eyes to nose, nose to lips. And oh, those lips. My heart hammered in my chest. Then it happened. My hand brushed against a glass on the table, knocking it over. It shattered against the floor, breaking the moment with it.

Michael straightened, his expression unreadable. “Dinner by seven.” I nodded quickly, but he was already walking away. I slapped my face with my palm the moment he was gone. “What the actual hell?!” I hissed at myself. My whole body buzzed with what had almost happened. I was thirsty for him—for his lips. Oh dear God, this was trouble.

By seven, I composed myself and headed downstairs. He was already seated, waiting. Without a word, he pulled a chair out for me. I sat. Dinner was… silent. The clinking of cutlery was louder than anything either of us said. When I finally stood to leave, his voice stopped me. “Send your bank details to me.”

I blinked. Bank details? Oh. Right. A reminder. This was what I was here for—not to lust after him, not to lose myself in those eyes, not to imagine what those lips tasted like. Just the contract. Just the money. “Sure,” I said quietly, forcing a polite smile.

Inside, though, my chest tightened. Reality was setting in fast.