Chapter 338

Chapter 338
Alexander

The plane touched down in Dubai with a gentle thud that jolted me from half-sleep. I'd spent most of the fourteen-hour flight reviewing acquisition documents and thinking about Olivia back in Los Angeles.
My phone buzzed the moment we taxied to a stop. Messages flooded in, most of them work-related. I scrolled past them, looking for her name.
Nothing yet. She was probably buried in Cornerstone Research.
The private terminal at Dubai International Airport was all marble and brass, everything gleaming under soft lighting. A driver waited with my name on a placard.
"Mr. Carter? Welcome to Dubai. Your car is ready."
I followed him through the terminal and out into the humid night air that hit me like a wall. The Mercedes waited at the curb, black and sleek.
"Burj Al Arab, sir?"
"Yes."
The drive took forty minutes through mostly empty highways. Dubai at night was all lights and glass, skyscrapers competing to touch the stars. I'd been here multiple times before for business, but the city always managed to impress with its sheer ambition.
The Burj Al Arab rose from its artificial island like something from a fantasy novel. All white curves and gold accents, lit up against the dark water.
Check-in was efficient and discreet. The manager personally escorted me to the penthouse suite, explaining amenities I'd never use and offering services I didn't need.
"If you require anything at all, Mr. Carter, please don't hesitate to call."
"Thank you."
The door closed behind him, leaving me alone in what felt like a small palace. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered views of the Persian Gulf, the city skyline glittering in the distance. The suite was decorated in gold and cream, everything plush and expensive.
Too large. Too empty.
I set my bags down by the entrance and began to explore the expansive suite. The master bedroom featured a colossal bed that could easily accommodate four people. The bathroom boasted a luxurious jacuzzi tub, perfectly positioned to offer a sweeping view of the ocean. The living room was adorned with exquisite, high-end furniture.
All of it felt hollow without Olivia.
I moved through the expansive suite, my footsteps muffled by plush carpeting. The bedroom. The bathroom with its absurd jacuzzi. The living room was filled with furniture so expensive it felt criminal to actually sit on.
None of it mattered.
I'd stayed in places like this dozens of times before. Hell, I owned properties that made this look modest. But this was the first time the luxury felt empty instead of impressive.
I walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, pressing one hand against the cool glass. The Persian Gulf stretched out below, dark water reflecting the city lights like scattered diamonds. Dubai's skyline glittered in the distance, all those ambitious towers reaching for the stars.
Beautiful. Impressive. Completely meaningless without her here to see it.
My phone buzzed with work emails, but I ignored them. Instead, I stripped off my travel clothes and headed for the shower, suddenly desperate to wash away the flight and the hollow feeling settling in my chest.
The bathroom was predictably over the top. Marble everywhere, gold fixtures, a rainfall showerhead the size of a dinner plate. I turned the water on hot, stepping under the spray with relief.
Steam filled the space as I scrubbed away fourteen hours of recycled airplane air. My mind kept drifting back to Los Angeles. Olivia was buried in Cornerstone research, probably working herself into exhaustion. I should be there, bringing her food, reminding her to sleep.
Instead, I was here, alone in a bathroom that could fit three normal bathrooms inside it.
I finished quickly, wrapping a towel around my waist and padding back to the bedroom. My phone sat on the nightstand, and I grabbed it, pulling up Olivia's contact.
The time difference meant it was late morning in Los Angeles. She'd be at the office, probably in back-to-back meetings.
I opened the camera, angling it to capture my still-damp hair and the ridiculous luxury of the suite behind me. Snapped a selfie that looked appropriately exhausted and slightly grumpy.
Me: Landed safely. Miss you already. This place is stupidly big for one person.
I attached the photo and hit send before I could overthink it.
Her response came faster than expected.
Liv: You look like a sad puppy. Also, that bathrobe is probably expensive.
I glanced down at the bathrobe I'd thrown on. She wasn't wrong.
Me: Probably. Everything here is aggressively expensive. How's work?
Liv: Buried in Cornerstone files.
Me: Take breaks. Don't work yourself to death.
Liv: Says the man who once worked 36 hours straight on an acquisition.
Me: Do as I say, not as I do.
Liv: Terrible advice.
A moment later, another text came through, this one with a photo attached. I opened it and felt my breath catch.
Olivia had taken a selfie from what looked like her office. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her shirt had one extra button undone, just enough to be suggestive without being obvious. She'd angled the camera to show the curve of her neck and the hint of cleavage, her lips curved in a teasing smile that made my entire body tighten with want.
Liv: Since you sent me sad puppy eyes, here's something to help you sleep better.
I stared at that photo, my thumb tracing the screen like I could somehow touch her through it.
Me: You're killing me. That's not fair when I'm six thousand miles away.
Liv: Life's not fair. Besides, you left me here with all this work. Consider it payback.
Me: Evil woman.
Liv: You love it.
She wasn't wrong about that either.
Me: Save that energy for when I get back. You're going to need it.
Liv: Promises, promises. Now go eat something. You always get grumpy when you're hungry.
I smiled despite the distance between us, then set my phone down and got dressed. She knew me too well.
The hotel concierge had recommended several restaurants within walking distance. I opted for a steakhouse in the nearby financial district, somewhere I could grab food without dealing with the full spectacle of hotel dining.
The evening air hit me like a physical wall when I stepped outside. Humid and warm, even at this hour. I loosened my collar, grateful I'd chosen light fabric.
The steakhouse was exactly what I needed. Dark wood, leather booths, the smell of grilled meat, and expensive whiskey. I slid into a corner booth, ordering a scotch and the ribeye without looking at the menu.
My phone buzzed constantly with work emails. Jessica was sending updates on meetings I'd miss. A few board members want status reports.
I responded to the urgent ones, ignored the rest.
The steak arrived perfectly cooked, charred on the outside and pink in the center. I cut into it mechanically, my mind still back in Los Angeles.
This was going to be a long three weeks.
By the time I finished eating, exhaustion had settled into my bones. The fourteen-hour flight, the time difference, the weight of being away from everything familiar.