All Chapters of My Accidental Billionaire Husband : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

~Katia~I said it in the elevator.Not out loud. In my head, the way you said things you couldn't say in rooms full of people watching your face. Warm air plays tricks. I replayed the exact moment, the pause at the door, the glance back, and that one second of eye contact with Julian, and I thought, that was either the smartest thing you've done all week or the single most reckless.The elevator hit the lobby. I walked out into the morning like a woman with absolutely nothing on her mind.The WEG building deposited me onto the pavement, and the city swallowed me immediately, which was one of the things I had always loved about New York. It didn't care. You could walk out of the most loaded room of your life, and within thirty seconds you were just another person on a pavement going somewhere. A delivery bike nearly clipped my elbow. A street vendor was arguing with a tourist about pretzel pricing. The world was completely indifferent to Julian Windsor and his boardroom and the way he h

~Julian~I smelled the flowers before I opened the study door.That was the first sign. My study had never smelled like flowers. It smelled like leather and old paper and the specific kind of quiet that came from nobody having been in it since I left in the morning. That was intentional. The West Wing was mine. The study was mine. It was the one room in this entire estate that functioned exactly the way I needed it to—undisturbed, undecorated, and entirely without the performative warmth that had begun creeping into every other corner of the house since the wedding.I pushed the door open.White peonies. A full arrangement of them on the corner of my desk, sitting in a crystal vase I had never seen before in my life. The stems were cut at the same lengths. The blooms were perfectly spaced. Someone had spent time on this, which meant someone had been in here spending time on this, which meant someone had walked past the very clear understanding we had established on day one and decided

KatiaI took a very calm sip of wine.Robert recovered admirably. He named a figure. It was decent. Not exceptional, but decent. He glanced at me when he said it, the way people did when they were hoping for approval, which told me everything I needed to know about why he was here and what he thought this lunch was."That's fine," Aiden said, with the measured generosity of someone trying to be encouraging. "Not as good as Mum's, but fine."Mother laughed a bright, social laugh designed to move past the moment. Dad, who had been quiet at the end of the table, pressed his lips together in a way that might have been suppressing a smile.Robert turned to me. He was good at pivoting. "Your son is extraordinary.""I know.""He clearly takes after you.""Mm." I set my wine glass down. "Robert, how long have you known my family?"He took a fractional pause. "Your mother and I were introduced through mutual friends. About a year ago."A year ago. After I came back to New York. After the WEG co

~Katia~Sam texted at 11:47 PM: I'm outside. Go.That was our system. She parked two blocks from the building, engine running, and sent one word when the coast was clear. I was already dressed. The carbon fiber suit lived in the false floor of my wardrobe behind the winter coats, a cavity I had engineered myself, measured to the centimeter, and lined with sound-dampening material so the zip didn't carry. Aiden had never found it. He found everything eventually, but he hadn't found this. I intended to keep it that way.I checked on him first. Always. Every single time, without exception, I stood in the frame of his door for thirty seconds before I left. He was on his back tonight, one arm flung wide, duvet halfway off, the nightlight casting everything in soft amber. His breathing was deep and even. The monitor on his bedside table was linked to Sam's phone; she'd see any movement, hear any sound, and be up those stairs in four minutes if she needed to be.Four minutes was fast enough.

~Katia~The invitation said charity gala and I believed it right up until the moment I walked through the door and saw my mother standing in the entrance hall of the Kensington ballroom wearing her best diamonds and the expression of a woman who had been planning something for at least two weeks.She had rented the ballroom. That was the first sign. Martha Kensington did not rent ballrooms for charity. She attended charity events at other people's ballrooms, where she could be seen and photographed and positioned correctly relative to the right people. Hosting meant she controlled the guest list, which meant she controlled who Katia Kensington walked into.I should have known."Darling." She kissed both my cheeks and squeezed my hands and looked at me with the particular warmth she reserved for moments when she needed something significant. "You look wonderful.""Thank you, Mother.""And Aiden." She bent toward him. He submitted to the greeting with the patience of a small diplomat in