جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 50

Julian’s POVI checked the time the moment the service door sealed Delia back into her wing, and I did it not because I cared where she went after humiliating herself in my suite, but because I needed to confirm that Martha Kensington had finally left my house and taken her perfume, her entitlement, and her constant hunger for leverage with her, because there are only so many hours in a day and I refuse to waste any more of them playing husband for a woman I never wanted while her mother watches like she’s supervising livestock.The estate had gone quiet in that way only old money houses know how to go quiet, where silence is not peace but a controlled environment, curated by staff who understand which doors to close and which corridors to clear when the head of the family is done performing, and I stood for a moment in my study, the same study with the mahogany shelves and the weight of Windsor history pressing in from every angle, and I let the stillness settle into my bones long en

Katia’s POVThe adrenaline was still humming in my veins, a low-frequency vibration that made the neon lights of the Las Vegas Strip look like streaks of wet paint against a black canvas. I wasn’t as devastated by the loss as I thought I’d be. Honestly, it was a relief, a terrifying, electric relief, to know there was still someone out there who could push me to the very edge of my capabilities. For years, I had been the ghost that haunted the track, the one no one could catch. Tonight, I was caught. And the feeling of being hunted was far more intoxicating than the feeling of winning."Girl, we should definitely go out," Sam said, leaning against the mahogany doorframe of our hotel suite as she watched me peel off my racing gear. Her eyes were bright, reflecting the restless energy of the city outside. "You haven't lost in a very long time, and you lose to some anonymous guy in a helmet? You need a drink to mourn your undefeated streak before you let it get in your head."I laughed,

Julian’s POVI stood in the center of the hotel suite, the air-conditioning humming with a chill that did nothing to cool the fire burning under my skin. My hands were balled into fists, the ghost of Katia’s hair still tangled in my knuckles, the scent of her skin, a mix of expensive gin and something purely, devastatingly her, clinging to my lungs. I was breathing like I had just run a marathon, my chest heaving, my heart hammering against my ribs.I reached for my phone, my fingers nearly trembling as I dialed Zane’s number. I didn't wait for a greeting. "The hangar. Now, we're leaving Vegas.""Julian? The night is barely—""Now, Zane," I snarled, slamming the phone shut.Ten minutes later, the door to the suite swung open. Zane walked in, his expression shifting from annoyance to sheer, unadulterated shock the moment he looked at me. I hadn't moved. I was still standing by the window, the neon lights of the city reflecting off the glass, my suit jacket discarded on the floor.Zane’

Katia's POVGail gaped at me. Her mouth literally fell open. She looked like I had just told her the moon was made of cheese. “Julian? My brother? The man who has the emotional range of a granite countertop?”“Tell me about it,” I said, my face burning. I decided to go all in. If I was going to be judged, I might as well give her the full evidence. “The hand your brother posted on his Instagram? The one that had the internet in a frenzy while he was supposed to be on his honeymoon? That was mine.”Gail froze, her wine glass halfway to her lips. “What?”“He was with me in France,” I confessed, the words feeling like a lead weight lifting off my chest. “The day he was supposed to be spending time with my sister on their wedding night... Julian was with me. I don't know how he ended up in that village or how he found that specific bar, but we met. We stayed up all night. Nothing happened in France, Gail, I swear. We just talked. It was just... a connection I didn't expect.”Gail put her

Katia’s POVThe hum of the motorbike was still vibrating in my bones as I stepped into my apartment long after midnight. I moved through the dark rooms like a thief, peeling off the heavy leathers that smelled of adrenaline and burnt rubber. I checked on Aiden, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest for a long moment. He was my reality. He was the anchor that kept me from drifting off into the chaotic, dark sea of my own impulses. Everything else, the boardrooms, the high-speed racing, and the forbidden heat of Julian Windsor, felt like a fever dream I couldn't wake up from.The next morning, the "weight lifted" feeling I’d had after talking to Gail was replaced by a cold dread. I had a brunch scheduled at the Kensington estate. A family gathering. It was the kind of performance I hated most, one where I had to look Delia in the eye while knowing her husband had pinned me against a wall in Vegas and kissed me until I forgot my own name.I dressed carefully, choosing a high-nec