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Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Accidental Billionaire Husband : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

432 Kabanata

The Arrangement

KatiaI woke up to the sound of people singing badly.“Happy birthday to you...” I blinked hard against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, my brain slow to reboot. The voices were getting louder, and for a second, I thought I was dreaming. A really weird, off-key dream.“Happy birthday, dear Katia...”My bedroom door flung open. I sat up so fast the blanket tangled around my legs like a trap. My vision adjusted just in time to see a small parade entering my room, Delia leading the way with a cupcake on a tray, Dad trailing behind her holding a phone like he was filming a hostage video, and then, my mother, smiling. I nearly choked because my mom has never smiled at me.“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said; her voice was smooth and artificial, like she’d sprayed it with perfume before letting it out of her mouth.I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. Because here’s the thing: Martha didn’t do birthdays. Not mine, anyway. Delia got birthdays. Princess themes, ballo

The Racer and the Popped Cherry

~Katia~Vegas heat hit me like a wave the second I stepped off the private jet. The runway shimmered under the late afternoon sun, and I squinted past my sunglasses, already half-listening to the ping of updates on my encrypted racing burner phone. Six hours before the race, and my heart was already trying to climb out of my chest. But I wasn’t nervous.I was hungry.The black Rolls Royce Ghost waiting for me outside the hangar wasn’t subtle, but nothing about this trip was supposed to be. My crew greeted me like I was a CEO arriving for a hostile takeover. I didn’t speak; they knew why I was here.The underground race wasn’t some little street corner showdown. This was the elite of the elite, with closed invitations, encrypted access, and enough luxury vehicles to make a Formula 1 grid look like a used lot. They held it at a decommissioned airfield just outside the city. From the sky, it looked abandoned. From the ground? It was a neon-lit colosseum, pulsing with noise and heat and m

I will cum inside you

~Katia~"Do you know how hard I've been holding myself?" I didn't answer because all I wanted was to get laid. I could still feel the ache between my legs. He carried my bridal style and led me to his hotel room. "Now, I can fuck you however I want because you are now my wife, princess." The room was dark, and I was feeling all sorts of things; I doubt I even remember my name at this point. He sent me launching onto a bed. His finger ran along my lips. His lips traced along my neck. It tickles, and it feels so fucking good. My mind zigzags in pleasure and confusion."I love your fucking body, wifey." He pulls up my dress, and now I am exposed. "I couldn't wait to get you here so I can taste your cunt from the chopper. I want to make it memorable for you." His words shocked me like a live wire. "You are so fucking soft," he gritted as he started sucking on my nipples. I can feel the blood rushing between my legs. "You are so ready for me." Before I could answer, he took my breath aw

Pregnant

~Katia~I woke up to the sour taste of bile creeping up my throat, and my legs threw me out of bed before my brain could even catch up. The morning light seared into my eyes like punishment, and I stumbled across the cold floor, my feet slapping against the wood, straight into the bathroom. My knees hit the tile, and my head dipped into the toilet as I heaved, every muscle in my stomach wrenching like it was trying to pull itself inside out.It was the third morning in a row. No, the fifth. Hell, I’d stopped counting.I could hear my mother's footsteps behind me, the sharp, impatient kind that clicked like a metronome of judgment. I knew she would follow me. My mom never misses a chance to remind me that I’m a fuck-up. She stood in the doorway like a sentry, arms folded, her expression already set to that self-righteous scowl she reserved just for me.“It’s been two weeks since you came back from Las Vegas,” she muttered, her voice hard, like she’d been rehearsing that line for maximu

Thrown into the Streets

~Katia~“Get out!” my mom screamed, her voice tearing through the hallway like a bomb going off in a small room.The sound hit the walls and bounced back so violently, like the house itself was flinching. Even the air felt startled, buzzing with the kind of tension that makes your skin crawl. My heart slammed against my ribs, not from surprise, but from inevitability. This was the moment I’d been bracing for since the pregnancy test turned positive, since the ring had caught her eye, since her fantasy version of my life collapsed like a cheap stage prop.I didn’t even flinch because I knew it would come to this. I just knew it. The second she saw the ring, the second her fantasy of me being some corporate bride-to-be shattered, I could feel the sentence forming behind her teeth. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head, grinding down whatever affection she pretended to have left for me and replacing it with raw rage. And there it was. A weapon wrapped in spite and fury.

I’m pregnant not fragile

~Katia~I stood on the cold pavement, the wind creeping under the thin silk of my robe as if it were laughing at me. The gate of my parents' mansion, the same house I grew up in, the same house that now stood silently behind me like it had already disowned me—remained closed, its heavy black bars glinting in the morning light. I stared at them for a long moment, not because I wanted to go back inside, but because I needed to remind myself that I was really out. This wasn’t a scene or a scare tactic. I had been thrown out of my home like a broken toy, barefoot, pregnant, and wearing nothing but the robe I slept in.But the mistake they made was thinking I had nowhere to go.I slipped my hand into the hidden pocket on the inside of the robe, feeling the familiar chill of the encrypted phone I kept for racing, business, and everything I didn’t want my mother involved in. My fingers moved on their own, pressing the icon I knew by heart. It rang twice before she picked up.“Miss Kingston,”

The Ghost I Married

~Julian~The skyline of Manhattan stretched in front of me, bathed in soft light as the sun filtered through thick gray clouds, painting the city in shades of steel and silver. The windows of my high-rise office offered a sweeping view of it all, an empire of glass and concrete, money and power, but none of it felt satisfying anymore. Not the deals. Not the penthouses. Not the silence that lingered long after everyone left for the day. Six years, and I still hadn’t found her. Six fucking years chasing a ghost.I sat behind my desk, the corner office a cathedral of success, every inch tailored to me—sleek, minimal, spotless. My assistant had left my schedule printed neatly beside my coffee, which had long since gone cold. The ticking of the designer wall clock was the only sound until I heard the door open without a knock.“Still brooding?” Zane strolled in like he owned the place. He didn’t, but he was one of the few people who could walk into my space uninvited and live to tell the s

Cookies and Confessions

Julian’s POVThe drive back home was nothing short of torture. Every stoplight, every slow turn down the winding roads leading to the Windsor estate, felt like it was dragging me closer to a funeral I didn’t want to attend. Not an actual one, no. This was the death of the only thing in my life that had ever felt spontaneous and real.The Las Vegas wife.I gripped the steering wheel tighter as the thought surfaced again. The marriage certificate in my office drawer, one I'd kept sealed in a folder marked “Private”—only had two names on it: Jules and Kat.No surname. No address. No contact information. Just “Kat.”The fuck is Kat?That’s all she gave me, and oh, she didn't give it to me; I only found out about that name while looking at the marriage certificate. That’s all I had after six years of searching. A name scribbled in hurried ink, a memory buried beneath the haze of one too many shots and a chopper ride that ended with blood on the seats and her skin on mine. It was reckless a

A Storm

~Katia~The smell of garlic butter and lemon had barely faded from our plates when Aiden reached for another piece of calamari, his little fingers expertly bypassing the lemon slice and going straight for the crunch. He sat beside me, legs swinging off the velvet booth, wearing his little grey sweater with his name embroidered over the chest. His curls bounced each time he turned to flash me another proud grin, mouth full and happy.I couldn’t stop watching him.We’d only been back in New York for three days, and already he was adjusting better than I was. That was the magic of children—they didn't carry the weight of history. They lived in the now. They smiled easier. Loved faster. Forgot pain before it had time to scar.I was sipping my espresso, soaking in this calm, when I heard the unmistakable voice behind me.“Katia?”I froze.I hadn’t heard that voice in six years, but it hadn’t changed. Still slightly high, still trying too hard to sound effortless. I turned slowly and saw my

The one who left

~Delia~I stood on the sidewalk long after the Rolls Royce disappeared into traffic, my heels digging into the pavement as if I needed something solid to keep me from floating away. The noise of Brooklyn came back slowly, cars passing, voices from inside the restaurant, someone laughing too loudly behind me, but none of it felt real.All I could see was Katia. Not the Katia I remembered. The sister who walked out of our house in a bathrobe six years ago looking like she had nowhere to go and no one to run to wasn't the sister I met today. This Katia had walked out of that restaurant like she owned the world, like she had nothing to prove and no one to impress.And that car. That damn fucking car.I turned slowly to face my friends, who were staring at me like they had just witnessed a celebrity sighting and were trying to piece together how they knew her.“Guys,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes, “I need to leave. We’ll chat later.”Maya blinked. “Delia, who was that?

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