All Chapters of My Accidental Billionaire Husband : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

398 Chapters

Don’t come to my wedding

Katia’s POVMonday mornings were usually my favorite. There was something clean about them, fresh calendars, quiet hallways, and the sense that the world hadn’t yet had time to complicate itself. I liked arriving early and liked the hum of the building before it filled with voices and demands. IG Technologies felt most like mine in those hours.Sam was already seated across from me, tablet open, stylus tapping lightly as she scrolled through projections.“If we stagger the rollout,” she said, “WEG gets their AI logistics upgrade in phases. Hotels first, then resorts, then sports venues. It reduces disruption and gives us leverage if they try to renegotiate.”I nodded, eyes on the screen in front of me. “And it gives us time to test live environments without burning goodwill.”“Exactly.”We were in sync like that; years of building from nothing had done that to us. Sam didn’t need to overexplain, and I didn’t need to micromanage. Trust was a currency we’d earned the hard way.She glanc

I’m already married

Delia’s POVI knew something was wrong the moment Katia walked out of that restaurant and didn’t look back.She didn’t slam a door. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t threaten me or humiliate me the way I half-expected her to. She just stood up, said her piece with frightening calm, and left me sitting there with my insecurities laid bare on a polished tablecloth.I went home unsettled.My mother was in the sitting room when I arrived, seated stiffly on the cream sofa, her tablet resting unused on her lap. She looked up the moment I stepped inside, eyes sharp, already searching my face for answers.“Well?” she asked.I dropped my bag and paced once, twice, before answering. “I met Katia.”Her brows lifted. “And?”“And it didn’t go the way I expected,” I said, pressing my lips together. “She wasn’t defensive. Or apologetic. She didn’t even deny anything because there was nothing to deny.”My mother frowned. “What does that mean?”“It means,” I said slowly, “that whatever is happeni

He Said No Sex

Delia’s POVI didn’t touch the food. The plate sat in front of me, untouched and growing cold, steam long gone, the carefully arranged meal reduced to decoration just like me. Julian’s chair across the table was already empty, pushed back and abandoned, a quiet reminder that he had left without looking back. I stared at the plate for a few seconds, my hands resting uselessly on either side of it, my appetite completely gone, my body too tight with shock to remember how to breathe properly.Already married.The words replayed in my head again and again, each time cutting deeper, peeling away another layer of illusion I had carefully built around myself. I had walked into that restaurant believing. No, hoping that this was the moment everything would change. That he would finally look at me the way he looked at her. That I would matter.Instead, I was given terms. Cold fucking terms!I pushed back from the table, my chair scraping softly against the floor. A waiter glanced in my directi

What it cost being Mrs.Wndsor

Julian’s POVI did not ask her to meet because I was uncertain. I asked her to meet because I needed clarity.There is a difference.When she called to say she would accept the arrangement, her voice carried a tremor she tried to disguise as resolve, and I already knew then that she had not truly understood what she was agreeing to at The Velvet Ember the first time, because people often mistake opportunity for power when in reality opportunity can be the most elegant form of submission.I told her I would send a car, and I chose the location carefully, not out of sentiment but control. The Velvet Ember is neutral territory, intimate enough for private negotiations and discreet enough that no one asks questions when doors close and conversations turn transactional.When I arrived, I ensured the private dining room was sealed, no waiters hovering, no interruptions, no accidental witnesses, because I dislike repeating myself and I refuse to negotiate terms twice.She entered dressed to

The Altar of Duty

Julian’s POVThe dawn over the Windsor Estate didn't break; it bled. A pale, sickly grey light filtered through the heavy condensation on my bedroom windows, illuminating the sprawling gardens that had been manicured into submission for today’s spectacle. I had been awake since three in the morning, staring at the ceiling, tracing the intricate plaster moldings as if they held some secret escape hatch. There were none. In the quiet hours of the night, the weight of the Windsor name felt less like a crown and more like a shroud.I stood in the center of my dressing room, a space larger than most people’s apartments, and felt the walls closing in. Every object in this room was a testament to a legacy I hadn’t asked for but was sworn to protect. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflected a man I struggled to recognize. Sunlight finally fought its way through the heavy velvet curtains, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, but the warmth remained outside the glass.I was being dress

I could be wrong

Gail’s POVI stood at the window of the west wing, my forehead pressed against the cool glass, watching the black sedans line up like a funeral procession in the driveway below. I was dressed in emerald silk, the color of envy, or perhaps just the color of a woman hiding a suspicion that felt like poison in her veins. My hands were shaking so violently that I had to lace my fingers together to keep from ripping the lace of my sleeves.I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to watch my brother throw his life away on a marriage that felt as cold as the marble floors beneath my feet.I turned away from the window and walked toward Julian’s suite. Every step felt like wading through deep water. I had known Julian my entire life. I knew the way he tightened his jaw when he was lying to himself. I knew the way he used silence as a weapon. But the man I saw in glimpses this morning wasn't my brother; he was a statue being prepared for an altar. I saw him going back to his dressing room.I pushed ope

The sky is the limit

Katia’s POVThe air at forty thousand feet was the only thing that ever felt truly clean.I sat in the captain’s chair of my Gulfstream G650, my hands resting lightly on the controls, feeling the subtle vibration of the twin engines through the floorboards. To most people, a private jet was a symbol of status, a luxury to be enjoyed from the plush leather seats of the cabin with a glass of vintage Cristal. To me, it was a machine of logic. I didn't want to be served; I wanted to be the one navigating the trajectory.Beside me, in the co-pilot’s seat, Aiden sat perched on a customized booster, his own miniature headset adjusted over his dark curls. He wasn't watching a movie or playing a game. His wide, sapphire eyes were glued to the primary flight display, watching the digital horizon tilt as I made a minor correction to our heading."Vector heading two-seven-zero, Mom?" he asked, his voice crisp through the comms."Correct, Captain," I replied, a ghost of a smile touching my lips. "

The Invisible Bride

Delia’s POVThe sunlight that spilled across the silk sheets of the East Wing guest suite was too bright, too cold, and entirely too quiet.I blinked my eyes open, the heavy silence of the Windsor estate pressing against my eardrums like a physical weight. My hand reached for the other side of the king-sized bed, searching for the warmth of a body, the presence of a husband, or even just the messy reality of a shared night.It was cold. The Egyptian cotton was perfectly smooth, undisturbed by anyone but myself.Of course it was. I hadn’t spent the night in the master suite; I hadn’t even been invited past the double oak doors of Julian’s private quarters. Julian had been brutal in his honesty before the ceremony. He had sat me down and told me where I stand, his flinty blue eyes devoid of any warmth, and told me exactly what this was: a transaction. He was already married—legally, secretly, and irrevocably. I was a "paper wife," a public-facing placeholder to settle the Kensington deb

I want to know the stranger who got her pregnant

Julian’s POVThe silence of my study at the Windsor estate was the only thing I tolerated on a Sunday morning.The wedding, the transactional union to Delia, was over. It had been an affair, a necessary piece of theater to satisfy the Kensington merger and my grandmother's archaic demands. Delia was tucked away in her room, presumably basking in a title that carried no legal weight. I had been clear with her before we even reached the altar: I was already married. Legally. Secretly. This "marriage" was a placeholder to keep the Windsor Empire stable and the Kensingtons from collapsing into bankruptcy.I sat behind my desk, the glow of four monitors illuminating the sharp, cold angles of my face. I wasn't thinking about my "bride." I was thinking about the G650 that had slipped out of Teterboro five days ago. My "Phantom Model" alert pulsed on my central screen.Katia Kensington has posted for the first time in six years.I followed her the time Zane and I were curious what the IG Tech

The French Pursuit

Julian’s POVI don’t chase people. I have teams of professionals to do the chasing while I remain the stationary sun around which the Windsor Empire orbits. Yet, less than twenty-four hours after the "wedding of the year," I was stepping off my private jet in Nice.The data Marcus provided was enough. Katia hadn't been hiding; she simply wasn't making herself easy to find. I tracked her to a small, discreet restaurant tucked away in a cobblestone alley in Antibes. It was the kind of place that didn't take reservations unless they knew your lineage.When I saw her, the air in my lungs felt tight. She was alone at a corner table, a glass of red wine in her hand, looking out at the sunset over the water. She looked like a woman who didn't have a care in the world—certainly not a woman whose sister had just married into the most powerful family in the country."Ms. Kensington. It’s fancy seeing you here," I said, my voice smooth as if our meeting were a mere coincidence and not the result

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