My Accidental Billionaire Husband のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

~Katia~The light was doing something extraordinary now — the fulldesert sunset beginning its final push, the sky moving through colours thatdidn’t exist anywhere else, and the dunes catching each shift and throwing itback amplified. Rose, gold, deep amber, something approaching red that was notquite any colour I had a name for.Hassan was at the camp below – just visible, a small figuremoving between the tents, far enough that the desert had swallowed all soundbetween us and him.We were entirely alone on the ridge.Julian turned to me, his eyes dark, reflecting the dying gold ofthe sun. There was no innocence left in the way he looked at me. It was asilent, predatory claim. He reached out, his hand cupping the back of my neck,and pulled me into a kiss that tasted like heat and salt and a night ofsuppressed hunger.We sank onto the dune together. The sand was still warm from theday, fine as silk beneath us. Julian pushed me back slowly, his weight a heavypressure until my

Julian”s POVThe food arrived. We ate. The conversation moved, not away from what had been said, but around it, the way conversations move when something significant has been placed between two people and both of them need a moment to exist alongside it before deciding what to do next.I told her about my grandmother. She told me about Aiden, the go-kart league, the way Pete the instructor had pulled her aside after the first lap, and the specific joy on his face when he crossed the finish line. I told her about the Amsterdam project my father had refused, the one that had cost him everything and taught me more about what the Windsor name meant than any boardroom ever had. He died before he saw what it became. A car accident, sixteen years ago, when I was eighteen. She went quiet when I said it – not the polite quiet of someone waiting for the subject to change, but the real quiet of someone who understood what it meant to lose a parent before you were ready. She listened with the com

~Katia~The Gulf was enormous around us. The city was a jagged, glittering line on the horizon, but out here, the water was a deep, restless turquoise that seemed to pull at the very edges of my control.Julian reached across the table and took my hand. I turned my hand over and held his, my skin humming where we touched. The conversation about Aiden—about the fathers we don't know and the ones we lose—had stripped away the last of the professional armour."Katia," he whispered.He didn't wait for me to answer. He stood, never letting go of my hand, and led me to the oversized sun pad at the stern of the boat. The crew was gone, the engines were a distant, rhythmic thrum, and the "eye fucking" that had been building since the moment we entered the yacht reached a fever pitch. He looked at me like he wanted to dismantle me.He pushed me back against the cushions. I felt the heat of the sun-warmed leather against my back as he hovered over me. We started kissing—not the tentative explor

~Katia~The message came at eight PM. Desert. Hassan is outside.No question mark. No explanation. I looked at it for ten seconds, then put my phone in my bag and told Sam I was going out."Where?" she said. "Desert," I answered.She looked at me over her laptop. "Again." "Yes." "Katia." "Sam."She looked back at her laptop. "Be back by midnight. The race briefing is at seven AM."I was already at the door.Hassan drove us out past the city limits in comfortable silence. The sky changed the moment the city lights fell away — the difference between a sky with stars and a sky full of them was not gradual. It was immediate. Like someone had turned something on.Julian was looking up before the car had fully stopped.We sat on a blanket Hassan had laid out on the flat desert floor, far enough from the road that the silence was complete. No traffic. No wind. Just the desert and the sky and the specific cold that crept into desert nights after the heat released."Do you know them?" I as

~Delia~I saw the first Dubai post at seven in the morning.I was in bed, half asleep, doing what I always did when I couldn't sleep, which was scroll through my phone pretending I wasn't looking for something specific. I was absolutely looking for something specific.His Instagram had been silent since France. Two posts. Hands at a restaurant. Hands at a jazz bar. Both of them had broken the internet for forty-eight hours and then settled into the permanent record of Julian Windsor doing something nobody could explain.The desert post stopped me cold.Two shadows on a dune. Heads together. The Dubai location tag. No caption just like France.I sat up in bed.What the fuck!I zoomed in. Two people; that much was obvious. One taller, which of course was my fucking husband Julian; it had to be Julian, the height and the shoulders. The other, smaller, slender, their shadow leaning into his like it belonged there. Like it had always been there. Like this was not a business trip at all.I