The Ceo's Reluctant Wife

Chapter 2: The Ultimatum

Alex's eyes snapped open to the harsh beep of his alarm, but it took him a full minute to actually move. The sun was already pushing through the cracks into the blinds. His head throbbed, not from a hangover, he had not drunk that much last night, but from the frustration that had settled in like a bad dream he couldn't shake.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him, blades cutting the air with a soft whoosh that did nothing to cool the anger building in his chest.

Last night. s**t, what a waste. The club had been perfect, music pounding, women eager, everything lined up for a night that should have ended with him forgetting his name in a tangle of sheets and sweat.

Instead, Victor's call had crashed in like a wrecking ball, yanking him back to reality. He could have ignored it. Let it go to voicemail, taken those girls upstairs, and dealt with fallout later. But no, he'd answered. Like always. And now here he was, alone in his massive bed, sheets twisted around him, body still humming with unresolved tension.

He threw the cove off with a curse, swinging his legs over the side. The cold hardwood floor hit his bare feet. He rubbed his face hard, rubbing his palms, and glanced at the clock, 7:42. Plenty of time. Too much time, really.

Standing up, he stretched, muscles tight from a night of restless sleep. His reflection in the full length mirror across the room stares back, broad shoulders, defined abs from hours in the gym that he treated like therapy. He looked good. Powerful. The kind of guy who commanded rooms without trying. But right now, all he felt was anger. Pissed at Victor for pulling this power play, pissed at himself for letting it get under his skin.

He walked to the bathroom, flipping on the lights that were way too bright this early. The marble counter was spotless, his housekeeper saw to that and he gripped the edges, leaning in close to the mirror. "Get it together," he muttered to himself. But the word felt empty.

What the hell did Victor want anyway? Another lecture on responsibility? More guilt about the family name? As if Alex hadn't been carrying that weight since he was a kid.

The shower helped a bit. He turned the water as hot as it would go, steam filling the glass enclosure until he could barely see his hand in front of his face. He stood under the spray, letting it pour on his shoulders, trying to wash away the remnants of last night. The blonde's hand on him, the brunette's lips, gone, all of it ruined by one phone call.

He closed his eyes, water streaming down his face, and let his mind wander. What if he just didn't show up? What if he blew off the meeting, hopped on his jet, and headed to Monaco? Leave Victor to rule in his own empire. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he wouldn't.

The company wasn't just a job, it was his. He had fought for every inch of it, turning his father's outdated corporation info a company that dominated markets worldwide.

Dressing took longer than usual. He checked his phone, missed texts from last night's brunette. "Missed you last night. Call me?" He deleted it. No time for distractions.

The driver buzzed at 8:30 sharp. Alex grabbed his overcoat and headed down. Rain dropped against the lobby windows as he stepped out.

The doorman nodding respectfully. "Morning, Mr. Harrington."

"Morning," Alex grunted, sliding into the car's back seat.

"Harrington Tower. Fast as you can." He said to his driver.

Alex stared out the window, fingers drumming on his knee. Inner thoughts spunned. Why now? What game is Victor playing?

The anger flared hotter. Victor acted like a saint now, but he was the one who had left Alex's mom when he was ten, chasing some younger model. Hypocrite. Always preaching family legacy while tearing his own apart.

When he got to his destination, he walked through the lobby, nodding curtly to security

Mrs. Lang glanced up as he entered the outer office."He's ready for you."

Alex didn't reply, just pushed through the doors.

Victor looked up from his desks. "You're early."

Figured you'd appreciate the effort." Alex's voice dripped sarcasm. He sat on the chair without waiting for permission. "So. What's so urgent it couldn't wait till a decent hour?"

Victor set his pen down slowly, eyes locking on Alex's. "You turn thirty soon."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Dad. I can count."

"Don't be smart," Victor's tone sharpened. "I'm not getting younger. Doctors say the heart's holding, but one more episode..." He trailed off, waving a hand. "I need assurances. For the company. For the name."

Alex leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Assurances? I've got us dominating the market. What more do you want?"

"Investors worry. Your lifestyle's a liability." Victor slid the folder across. "Headlines like these don't help."

Alex flipped it open. It contained trash about his nights out, s****l photos of him with women. "This is bullshit. My private life..."

"Isn't private when it's front page news," Victor cut him off. "You're getting married."

The words landed like a punch. Alex froze, then laughed. "Married? To who? One of your golf buddies' daughters?"

Victor didn't blink. "To Ella Thompson. She's been helping me since the surgery."

Alex's mind blanked for a second. The quiet girl from the house, soft voice, always in the background. "Your caregiver? You're joking."

"I'm not." Victor explained the deal, marry her, or lose everything, the CEO spot, trust fund, control.

Rage boiled up. Alex stood, pacing the room like a caged animal. "This is insane. Blackmail. You can't force me..."

"I can. And I will." Victor's voice was calm, which only fueled Alex's fire.

Inner thoughts exploded, He's serious. The old bastard's finally lost it. Marry some stranger for show? For "stability"? Screw that. But losing the company... no. He'd built it.

"Why her?" Alex demanded, turning back. "What's in it for you?"

"She's good. Kind. No scandals." Victor paused. "And her mother's dying. I'm covering the bills if she agrees."

Alex's laugh turned bitter. "So she's a gold digger. Perfect."

"Watch it." Victor's eyes flashed warning.

Alex slammed a hand on the desk. "No, you watch it. You've controlled my life long enough. This? This crosses a line."

"Then walk away." Victor shrugged. "But you won't. Because deep down, you know I'm right."

Alex wanted to hit something. Break the desk. Storm out. But he didn't. He sat back down, breathing hard. "One meeting. With her. If I say no..."

"Fifteen minutes. She's on her way."

Alex nodded once, jaw clenched. The anger didn't fade, it settled in, deep and waiting.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.