My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 131

She’s Fucking My Husband

Delia

Mama was in the kitchen when arrived.

She took one look at my face and put the kettle on without saying anything. That was the thing about my mother; she could read a room before she read a person, and right now the room I had brought with me was ugly.

I sat down at the kitchen table.

“Katia is fucking Julian,” I said.

Martha turned from the kettle.

“Delia-”

“I’m not asking. I’m telling you.” I put my bag on the table. “She is fucking my husband. I went to her apartment today, and I told her to stay away from him, and she sat there with her wine and her Brooklyn view and gave me that face and denied everything, but she is fucking him, Mother. I know it.”

Mama came to the table and sat across from me. She had the expression she wore when she was deciding how seriously to take something the slight tightening around the eyes, the careful stillness.

“You don’t know that,” she said.

“I had her investigated.”

Mama blinked. “You what?”

“I hired someone. I have photographs, Dates, locations, a timeline going back months.” I pulled out my phone and put it on the table. “Julian has been posting her on his I*******m. Every single post corresponds to a time and place where Katia was present. France, Dubai, the desert, and the Burj Khalifa dinner. Every one.”

Mama looked at the phone. Then at me.

“Delia, those posts don’t prove—”

“I went to her apartment today,” I said again. “And I told her to stay away from Julian. And do you know what she said? She laughed. She sat there and sipped her wine and laughed and told me that if he was mine then what was I doing at her house?” I felt my voice crack and pulled it back together. “She didn’t deny it, Mother. She just laughed.”

Mama was quiet for a moment.

“Katia has always been difficult,” she said carefully.

“This isn’t difficult. This is my husband.” I stared at her. “My husband is fucking my sister, and you want to tell me she’s difficult?”

“I’m sure it’s not-”

“Stop.” I held up my hand. “Stop telling me it’s in my head. Stop telling me I’m imagining things. I have photographs of them together. I have his I*******m posts matched to her schedule. I have watched him ignore me in every room we have ever shared while he follows her around like she is the only person worth looking at.” My voice was completely flat now. All the heat had burnt through, and what was left was cold. “It is not in my head.”

Mother pressed her lips together. She got up and made the tea and brought it back and sat down, and we were quiet for a

moment.

“I’ve been trying to find Katia a good man,” Mama said finally.

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“She’s never been interested Never even looked at anyone I suggested. I thought stubborn. Being Katia.

“She’s not being stubborn,” I said. “She’s been looking at my husband.”

“We don’t know that for certain

17

she paused. “I thought she was just being

“Mother.” I looked at her directly. “Just who the fuck is Katia’s husband? Because none of us have ever seen him. Not one person in this family has ever met the man. He doesn’t exist publicly. There are no photos, no name, no nothing. She’s been wearing that ring for years, and nobody knows where it came from or who gave it to her.” I paused. “Don’t you find that strange? Even a little?”

Mother wrapped her hands around her mug. “She’s always been private—”

“Private is one thing. This is something else.” I leaned forward. “She shows up after six years with a son and a billion–dollar company and a ring on her finger and a husband nobody has ever met. And the money – where did it come from? She was thrown out of this house with nothing. Nothing. And six years later she has a penthouse in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and a company on the Forbes list.” I looked at my mother. “None of that adds up.”

Mama said nothing.

I sat back.

“And then there’s Aiden,” I said.

“What about Aiden?”

I said it slowly. Deliberately. Because I had been sitting with this thought for weeks and I needed to say it out loud to someone

before it drove me insane.

“Mother. Why does that boy look like my

husband?”

Mama stared at me.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said. “I’m serious. I have sat across from Aiden at two family dinners and a birthday party, and that child has Julian’s jaw. Julian’s hands. The way he tilts his head when he’s thinking.” I kept my voice steady. “Aiden is five years old. Katia has been back in New York for what – three years? She and Julian supposedly never met before the WEG partnership.” I paused. “But Katia was in Vegas six years ago. I know because she disappeared there. That’s where she went when she left this family.”

Mama had gone very still.

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