บททั้งหมดของ My Accidental Billionaire Husband : บทที่ 401 - บทที่ 410

Julian’s POVMarcus didn’t knock like a man bringing good news.He stood in the doorway of Katia’s hospital room with a folder under his arm and rain still on his coat. I knew that look. It was the same one he wore when a problem had stopped being theory and started having a face.Katia was awake. Sitting up. Pale, bruised along one side of her collarbone, but sharp-eyed in the way that meant she had already decided she was done being a patient.“Tell us,” she said before I could.Marcus glanced at me, and I nodded.He closed the door.“Someone was in the garage the night before the crash,” he said. “Not staff. Not a scheduled service. The main camera on the east bay was looped for eleven minutes. The secondary camera still caught a partial. A man in dark work clothes. He knew where the blind spots were. He went straight to your car, Julian. Not hers.”The room went very still.“Name,” I said.Marcus opened the folder and set a printed still on the table beside the bed. Grainy. Side a

Katia’s POVThe house finally went quiet after Aiden fell asleep.Sam had left after dinner. Zane had gone with her. The men outside stayed where they were supposed to stay. Julian came back late, showered, and sat on the edge of the bed like a man who still thought I might break if he breathed too hard.I watched him from the pillows.“You’re looking at me like I’m still in that hospital bed,” I said.“You were in that hospital bed two days ago.”“And now I’m home. In our bed. With a body that still works.”He rubbed a hand over his face.“Katia.”“Don’t start.” I sat up slowly and pulled my nightdress over my head. The air hit my skin. My breasts were heavier than they used to be. The small swell of my stomach showed when I sat like that. I didn’t hide it. “We haven’t fucked since before all of this. I’m done waiting for you to decide I’m allowed to want you.”His eyes dropped to my mouth, then lower.“I don’t want to hurt you.”“Then you don’t get on top.” I swung a leg over his th

Noah’s POVThe house was empty when I got there.Father never left his study unlocked. That was the first rule I learned as a boy. The second was that the room belonged to him the way a weapon belongs to the hand that holds it. You did not enter without being called. You did not touch the desk. You did not ask what lived inside the drawers.I called anyway.No answer.The key was where it had always been, taped to the underside of a drawer in the hall cabinet, the one place a child would look and an adult would never bother to check. I had found it at sixteen and never used it. Tonight I did.The lock turned.The study smelled like whiskey, old paper, and the cold kind of money that never needed to introduce itself. The desk lamp was off. City light cut through the blinds in thin stripes across the carpet. I shut the door behind me and stood there with my pulse in my throat, telling myself I had come for answers and not for the thing I already feared.I started with the drawers.Most

Noah’s POVA week had gone by since I left my father’s study with his blood on my hand.Seven days of waking up and feeling the same weight sit on my chest. Seven days of looking at my phone and not calling Julian. Seven days of hearing Delia move through the house and knowing I was lying to her by saying nothing. The choice I had made in the dark had not gotten lighter. It had gone sour. Every morning I told myself I would go to him and warn him. Every night I admitted I had done neither thing. I had not exposed him. I had not stopped him. I had only sat with the knowledge and let it rot.I felt awful in a way that sleep did not touch.So I drove to Katia’s office with flowers on the passenger seat like a man trying to buy back a piece of his own spine. The bouquet was pale and expensive and still not enough. I had no right to check on her. I had every reason to. She did not know what I knew. She smiled at the world with a baby in her and a husband who would burn the city down for he

Delia’s POVHe came home looking worse than he left.I saw it the second he walked into the kitchen. Same coat. Same closed mouth. Same lie sitting behind his eyes. He had gone to Julian and come back emptier, like talking had cost him something he still refused to name.“You spoke to him,” I said.“To Julian. Yes.”“And?”“I told him my father wants him watching his back.”I shut the tap off.“That is all you told him?”“Yes.”I dried my hands and came around the counter.“Noah. You look like a man who swallowed glass and called it loyalty.”He tried to step past me. I put my hand on his chest.“No. You don’t get to walk into this house, drop half a story, and disappear into the bedroom again.”His jaw flexed.“I did what I could.”“You did what felt safe for your father.” I pushed him back until his hips hit the counter. “I am your wife. I can feel you rotting from the inside, and you still won’t give me the truth.”“Delia.”“Say my name like that again and I will take it as permiss