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A Sunday With Aiden
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2026-05-30 00:18:05
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My Accidental Billionaire Husband That Her Penthouse
DeliaThe invitation arrived on my phone while I was sitting across from my mother in her sunroom, the porcelain teacup balanced on its saucer the way she insisted it always be balanced, handle facing exactly the same direction as the spoon.I read it twice before I said anything."Katia is inviting everyone to dinner," I said, setting my phone face down on the table beside my own untouched tea. "Tonight. Her penthouse.""Oh?" Mama said, not looking up from whatever she was doing to her own cup, stirring sugar she did not need into tea she had been drinking the same way for thirty years."I wonder why she wants us all there," I said. "Whether she just wants to flaunt the fact that she has more money than me. Show off the view, the floors, whatever new piece of art she's bought since the last time any of us were allowed inside."Martha laughed, a small, dismissive sound that landed harder than she probably meant it to, or perhaps exactly as hard as she meant it to. With my mother it wa
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KatiaThe smell of coffee turned my stomach the moment I stepped into the kitchen, which made no sense at all, since I had been drinking the same brand every morning for the better part of a decade.I stood at the counter and stared at the machine like it had personally betrayed me, then gave up and poured myself a glass of water instead, holding it against my lips longer than I drank from it, waiting for the wave behind my ribs to settle before it climbed any higher.This was the third morning in a row.I told myself it was the flight back from the Maldives. Recycled air, pressurized cabins, and the kind of low-grade nausea that came from sitting in a metal tube for fourteen hours and pretending it was relaxing because the water below happened to be turquoise. I told myself it was the wine at dinner the night before, even though I had barely finished half a glass before pushing the rest away, the smell of it suddenly wrong in a way I could not name.I told myself a lot of things that
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~Jude~I stepped out of the Obsidian Lounge into the cold night air and walked half a block before I trusted my hands enough to pull out my phone.The street was mostly empty at this hour, just the occasional taxi sliding past and a doorman two buildings down stamping his feet against the cold. I leaned against the stone facade of a closed boutique and tried to slow my breathing before I dialed, because I did not want him to hear anything in my voice that he could use against me later.I dialed the number from memory. I had never saved it under a name, never trusted a phone enough to leave a trace of who he actually was, not after everything he had told me about the kind of people who might come looking if this arrangement ever unraveled in the wrong direction.It picked up on the second ring."Talk to me," the voice said."Windsor is not making this easy," I said, keeping my voice low, my eyes scanning the street out of habit more than necessity. "I think he might have a clue. About
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JulianThe Obsidian Lounge smelled of leather and bourbon. This wasn’t a place people came to be seen; it was a spot for those who already owned enough of the world to skip the audience. Low lighting left dark shadows across the black stone bar top, where the amber liquid in our glasses reflected the overhead fixtures.I sat back, my hand resting loosely around a glass of neat Macallan 25, watching Wolfe try to fit himself into the scenery. He vibrated with a restless, hungry energy that the elite of Manhattan spent lifetimes learning to hide. He was a man trying to colonize a room that had been settled long before his ancestors learned to read a ledger."You’ve been quiet tonight, Windsor," Jude said, leaning a forearm against the bar. He swirled his ice, the clink of crystal against glass. "A bit detached for a man who just spent three days on a private island with my wife.""I am never detached, Jude," I replied, my voice level. "I am simply observant."He let out a dry, humorless
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~Julian~Martha opened the first box like a woman unwrapping something she had been promised in a dream for years and had stopped believing would actually arrive.Inside sat a crystal decanter set, hand-cut, the kind of thing that belonged in a museum case more than a liquor cabinet, and she made a small, delighted sound that David echoed a moment later when his own box revealed a set of cufflinks I recognized immediately as a brand that did not produce anything under five figures.Delia's box held a bracelet.I watched her open it with the same careful expression she had been wearing all evening, turning the thin gold chain over in her fingers, murmuring something polite and entirely hollow in Jude's direction. She did not look at me while she said it. I did not need her to. I understood exactly what this gift was costing her, watching a man she had no real claim to perform generosity in a room where she had spent two years receiving nothing at all from the man whose name she actuall
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~Katia~The boxes sat unopened on the low table near the window for most of dinner, a kind of silent centerpiece nobody seemed willing to address directly until the main course had been cleared and the wine had loosened something in the room.It was David, surprisingly, who brought it back up."So," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the boxes with his glass, "are we opening those tonight or saving the suspense?""After dessert," Martha said quickly, the way a woman protected a moment she had been planning all day.Delia set her fork down with more force than the gesture required."I still want to know," she said, her voice carrying just enough edge to make David glance at her, "what Julian brought."The table went quiet.Martha's eyes moved to Julian with the same bright, expectant interest she had shown at the front door, as though she believed enough silence might still produce a different answer than the one he had already given her."I told your mother already," Julian said, setti
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~Delia~I was in my car by two fifteen.I did not think about it. I did not change out of my clothes or fix my face or consider for one second whether driving from Manhattan to Brooklyn at two in the morning was a reasonable thing to do. I just picked up my keys and walked out of the Windsor estate
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~Delia~I heard the front door at midnight.I had just gotten back myself, coat still on, bag still on my shoulder, when the door opened behind me. I had barely stepped inside when I heard his key in the lock.I moved to the stairs immediately.I had been out all evening. I did not know where Julia
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JulianI watched her walk out.Past the assistant, into the elevator, gone. The office was quiet again. I sat at my desk and looked at the door she had closed behind her and felt the smile arrive before I decided to let it.She had come to me.Without Sam, without preparation, without a meeting sch
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~Katia~I did not tell Sam where I was going because I know me telling her would make this whole thing look unprofessional, which, of course, it was unprofessional because I have been seeing my sister's husband's dick for the past year and I wanted him to fuck me, fuck me like he meant it and proba
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