Los Angeles 213
Chapter 213
Olivia
The cathedral was breathtaking up close, every inch covered in intricate marble carvings and statues. Hundreds of spires jutted skyward, each topped with its own sculpture. The facade alone could have kept me occupied for hours.
“It’s impressive,” Alexander admitted, tilting his head back to take in the full height.
“Impressive? That’s all you’ve got?” I elbowed him gently. “This took nearly six centuries to complete. Six centuries of artisans pouring their lives into creating something beautiful.”
“When you put it that way, yes, it’s extraordinary.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Want to go inside?”
The interior was just as stunning as the exterior promised. Enormous columns stretched toward vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows cast colored light across the stone floor, and everywhere I looked revealed new details to admire.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, spinning slowly to take it all in. “This is incredible.”
Alexander watched me with that expression he got sometimes, the one I couldn’t quite decipher. “You really love this stuff, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.” I moved toward one of the massive columns, running my fingers over the cool stone. “All these people who lived centuries ago, who created these beautiful things that outlasted them. It makes you think about what you’re leaving behind.”
“Still working on that legacy question?”
“Aren’t we all?” I turned back to him. “What do you think people will say about Alexander Carter in a hundred years?”
He considered the question seriously. “Hopefully that he built something that mattered. That he made smart decisions and treated people fairly.”
“See? You do think about legacy.”
“Hard not to when you’re standing in a building that took six hundred years to complete.”
We spent an hour exploring the cathedral before emerging back into the bright Milan sunshine. The piazza in front of the Duomo was crowded with tourists and locals alike, street performers entertaining clusters of onlookers.
He led me to a hidden side street where a small restaurant awaited, the kind you’d only discover with insider knowledge. An older woman greeted Alexander like family, kissing both his cheeks enthusiastically.
“Alessandro! Finalmente! Too long, troppo lungo!” She turned to me with sparkling eyes. “And who is this bellissima?”
“Nonna Rosa, this is Olivia. My wife.”
“Moglie!” Nonna Rosa clasped her hands together. “Finally, this one settles down. I tell him every time, ‘Alessandro, you need a good woman, not these-” she made a dismissive gesture. “Sit, sit. I bring you everything.”
We didn’t even get menus. Nonna Rosa simply started bringing food. Course after course appeared, each more delicious than the last.
After lunch, we wandered through the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, the stunning shopping arcade connecting the Duomo to La Scala opera house. The vaulted glass ceiling soared overhead, allowing natural light to flood the elegant space, lined with luxury boutiques.
“This is gorgeous,” I said, tilting my head back to admire the intricate ironwork supporting the glass dome. “Look at the mosaics in the floor.”
Alexander pulled me to a stop in the center of the gallery, where the floor was adorned with elaborate zodiac mosaics. “There’s a tradition here. You’re supposed to spin on the bull’s testicles for good luck.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
He pointed to the Taurus zodiac sign, where indeed, one particular spot on the bull was worn smooth from countless visitors. “It’s good luck. Everyone does it.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“When in Milan,” Alexander said with a grin.
I sighed dramatically but positioned myself on the worn spot and spun three times, nearly losing my balance on the third rotation. Alexander caught me, laughing.
“Happy now?” I asked, slightly dizzy.
“Very. Now we’re guaranteed good fortune.”
“Or dizzy wives. One of the two.”
We continued through the gallery, window shopping at stores I couldn’t normally afford, even with my new salary. Alexander kept trying to pull me into boutiques, but I resisted.
“I don’t need anything,” I protested as he steered me toward a Prada store.
“Need and want are different things.”
“I want lots of things. Doesn’t mean I should have them.”
“Why not?” He looked genuinely puzzled. “We can afford it.”
“You can afford it,” I corrected. “There’s a difference.”
Alexander stopped walking, turning to face me fully. “Olivia, you’re my wife. What’s mine is yours. That’s how
this works.”
“That’s how real marriages work,” I said quietly. “We have an arrangement.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “An arrangement that includes you living as my wife in every way. That means using the resources available to you.”
“I have everything I need.”
“But not everything you want.” His eyes searched mine. “Let me spoil you a little.”
I sighed. “Fine. But nothing crazy.”
“Define crazy.”
“More than
and dollars.”
“That doesn’t leave many options in these stores.”
en we shop somewhere else.”
He looked pained but nodded. We ended up in a smaller boutique off the main gallery, where I found a beautiful leather handbag that was somehow both elegant and practical. The price tag made me wince, but Alexander just handed over his black card without blinking.
“This is insane,” I muttered as we left with my purchase. “I just spent more on a purse than I used to spend on groceries for a month.”
“And?”
“And it feels weird.”
Alexander stoppe Our life.”
pulling me close. “You need to get comfortable with this. This is your life now.
The
yes made my breath catch. Before I could respond, my phone buzzed with a work call.
this,” I said, grateful for the interruption. “It’s Dylan.”
odded and wandered toward a nearby shop window while I answered.
Dylan, what’s up?”
orry to bother you on vacation, but we have a situation with the Thompson account. The social media team accidentally posted the wrong campaign images this morning.”
“What? How did that open?”
“Human err
“Shit.
bed the wrong folder. It’s already been live for three hours.”
hand to my forehead. “Okay, pull everything down immediately. Send me the correct
KRAM MA 11 IKIwwdo bow anything she goes live?
Tanky Row free grassed to give you a heats up before Mr. Thompson notices?
www. I towed Alexander examining a display of watches,
wwwrything day? be noted,
dior distorting 1 can’t handle remotely, but I need to get back to the hotel and deal with it.”
Vert at the You xwww, 1 spent three hours firefighting the social media crisis while Alexander worked on is own laptop won the we. When 1 finally closed my computer, exhausted and slightly frazzled, he was waling with * Dass of wine.
A
*Yor now! I accepted the wine gratefully,
Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.