My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 138

Della Turns Up the Heat

Delia~

I had planned the seating arrangement three days in advance.

Katia beside Julian. Me at the opposite end, close enough to watch and far enough to observe without appearing to. Mama and Papa on one side. Grandma Celeste at the head because nobody argued with Grandma Celeste about seating at her own table. Gail was between Katia and Papa because Gail was a buffer, and I needed a buffer between Katia and the rest of the table or the evening would end too quickly.

I wanted it to last.

The dinner started well enough. The food was extraordinary; it always was at the Windsor estate. The conversation moved through the usual channels. Mama talked about a charity event. Papa asked Julian about the London expansion. Grandma asked Gail about a gallery piece she had mentioned the week before.

I watched Katia and Julian.

They were careful. That was the thing – they were very careful. They did not look at each other directly. They did not touch. They spoke when spoken to and directed their attention outward. A stranger watching would have seen nothing.

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But I was not a stranger.

I had been watching Julian Windsor for eight months. I knew the way his attention moved when she spoke, the slight stillness, the quality of listening that was different from how he listened to everyone else. I knew the way Katia held herself when he was near, the almost imperceptible awareness, and the way her posture changed by a degree.

I waited until the main course.

“Katia,” I said pleasantly. “You’ve been so busy lately. All these late nights at the office.” I smiled. “Julian too, funnily enough.” I paused, letting my eyes drop to her hands. “I notice you’re not wearing your ring tonight. You claim to be married, but you can’t seem to commit to wearing it every day. Funny that.”

Katia looked at her hand. Then at me. “When and where I wear my ring is none of your business, Delia.”

“I’m just saying. I wear mine every day.” I held up my hand. “Because that’s what married women do.”

“Congratulations,” Katia said pleasantly. She picked up her wine.

The table went very quiet.

Mama made a sound. Papa set his fork down.

Grandma Celeste said nothing. She simply looked at me with the expression of someone watching something unfold that they had been expecting for some time.

“And another thing,” I said, looking at Katia directly. “Every second you get, you’re eye–fucking my husband across whatever room you happen to be in.” I said, and everyone was staring now. So I went on. “I’m just making an observation,” I said. Still pleasant. Still smiling. “I think honesty is important in family settings.”

Katia picked up her wine glass.

“You know,” she said, “for someone so interested in honesty-” She looked at me across the table, “you’ve been remarkably quiet about your own recent activities.”

“I’m an open book,” I said.

“Are you?” Katia set her glass down. She looked around the table, at Mama, at Papa, at Grandma, at Gail. Then back at me. Then since we’re being honest, why don’t you tell your husband why you had dinner with Victor Hale last month?” She paused. And why you ended up in his penthouse at the Aman afterward.”

+25 BONUS

The silence that followed was total.

Mama’s mouth opened. Das looked at the table. Gail went very sti!!.

I felt the blood leave my face.

“Katia-” I started.

“You came here tonight to get into my personal life,” Katia said. Her voice was completely level. Not cruel – just precise. “So let’s be thorough about it.”

I looked at Julian.

He was cutting his meat.

He was cutting his meat with the composed, unhurried attention of a man who was having a perfectly ordinary dinner and had not just heard that his wife had slept with Victor Hale in a Midtown penthouse.

He looked up. He met my eyes.

He smiled.

Not warmly. Not coldly. Just smiled. The thin, private smile of a man who had known something for a while and was not surprised to hear it said out loud.

Then he looked back at his plate and continued eating.

I stared at him.

He didn’t care.

He genuinely, completely, utterly did not fucking care.

“Julian,” Mama said, her voice several pitches higher than usual. “Did you-

“Martha.” Dad put his hand on her arm. Quietly. Firmly.

Mama stopped.

”

Grandma Celeste, at the head of the table, picked up her wine glass and looked at nobody in particular. “The lamb is excellent tonight,” she said. “The rosemary is from the garden.”

Gail made a sound that was not quite a laugh and not quite anything else.

I looked at Katia.

She was eating. Completely composed. She had dropped that into the middle of the dinner table like a grenade and had gone back to her meal as if it were a weather report.

“You had no right,” I said. My voice was not steady.

“You started this,” she said pleasantly. She looked up. “I finished it.”

“This is my home-”

“It’s Julian’s home,” Katia said. “And his grandmother’s.” She glanced at Grandma Celeste. “I apologise for the disruption.”

Grandma Celeste made a small gesture with her hand. “Not at all, my dear.”

I pushed my chair back.

“Excuse me,” I said.

+25 BONUS

I walked out of the dining room. Down the corridor. Into the bathroom at the end of the east hall. I locked the door and stood at the sink and looked at my reflection.

She knew about Victor.

How the hell did she know about Victor?

I thought about the Aman. Victor had been careful had been careful. The restaurant in Tribeca had a private room. The penthouse was secure. Nobody had seen us arrive together. Nobody had seen me leave.

Except.

Sam.

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