My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 222

Not a Comenite Decision

Not a Committee Decision

~Julian-

I arrived at the mansion at eight fourteen.

+25 BONUS

I knew about the meeting before I walked through the door. The team had flagged the activity the previous evening–the calls between Martha and my grandmother, the arrangements, and the time agreed upon. I had read it on my phone at six in the morning while Katia was still asleep against my chest and had decided two things simultaneously: I was not leaving early, and I was not going to let the meeting happen without me present.

I had left at seven thirty.

I had taken my time driving.

I walked through the front door still in yesterday’s clothes—the jacket, the shirt, and the trousers that had sat on a chair in a Brooklyn bedroom for the better part of the night. I was aware of what I looked like. I did not particularly care.

I could smell coffee.

I went to the kitchen first.

I poured a cup. I stood at the counter and drank half of it, looking out the window at the garden. The morning was grey. The oak tree at the far end was doing what it did in the early morning, which was exist with the particular patience of something that had been standing in the same place for a very long time and had no intention of moving.

I finished the coffee.

I rinsed the cup.

I walked to the sitting room.

They were all there.

量

Martha and David on the left–Martha with the composed, upright posture of a woman who had arrived early and had been sitting in position long enough to have thought through every version of this conversation. David was beside her with the expression he wore in all difficult situations, which was the expression of a man who was present and wished he was not.

Grandma in her chair at the far end. Gail beside her. And on Grandma’s lap–with a notepad and what appeared to be a problem he was working through in pencil–was Aiden.

Delia was standing near the window.

I read the room in four seconds.

I sat down.

I did not apologize for the hour. I did not explain my clothes or my absence or anything that had brought us to this particular morning in this particular room. I looked at Martha.

“You called this meeting,” I said.

Martha straightened. She had prepared for this. I could see it in the particular way she had organized herself—the slight lift of the chin, the hands folded in her lap, the breath she took before she began.

“Julian,” she said. “We are here because we are concerned. About the marriage. About appearances.” She paused. “You did not come home last night. And this morning you walk in wearing the same clothes you wore to dinner.” She held my gaze. “We think it is important that both families are aligned on-”

“My marriage,” I said, “is not a committee decision.”

Not a Comme Decision

+25 BONUS

The sitting room was very quiet

Martha blinked.

“I understand the concern,” I said. My voice was even. Entirely even. The voice I used a boardrooms when something had been decided and the meeting had not caught up to the decision yet. “But the Windsor marriage is not managed by a sitting of both families in my grandmother’s house. It is managed by me.”

“Julian-” Delia started.

I looked at her.

She stopped.

I looked back at Martha.

“If there is a concern about optics,” I said, “I will tell you the same thing I tell my communications team. Optics are a result of actions. Manage the actions and the optics follow. I am managing the actions.”

“But you weren’t home,” Martha said. She had found her footing again. “A husband should be home. Especially when- “Mrs. Kensington,” I set my coffee down. “I was twenty–two years in this city before your family became relevant to mine. I have managed my affairs for my entire adult life without a morning meeting to discuss my whereabouts. That is not going to change.”

David Kensington looked at his hands.

Gail looked at the ceiling.

Grandma had not said a word. She was watching me with the expression she wore when she had decided to let something play out and was paying very close attention to how it went. Aiden had looked up from his notepad when I came in and had not looked back down since. He was watching me with the clear, direct attention he gave everything that mattered to him.

I held his gaze for a moment.

He gave me a small nod.

I looked back at the room.

“I understand the dinner was arranged,” I said. “I understand that Christopher was sourced and seated and the evening was constructed to produce a particular result.” I paused. “It did not produce that result. I would suggest not arranging a second one.”

Martha opened her mouth.

“I am not finished,” I said.

She closed it.

୮

“Delia lives in this house under an arrangement that has suited everyone involved. That arrangement is under review.” I did not look at Delia when I said it. I did not need to. “When there is something to communicate about the Windsor family’s situation, it will be communicated directly. Not through my grandmother. Not through a family meeting that I was not invited to arrange. stood. “Not through a dinner with a man whose annual salary does not cover the quarterly maintenance on this house.”

The sitting room was completely silent.

I buttoned my jacket.

“If there is a concern about the Windsor family,” I said, looking at Martha directly, “you speak to me. Directly. At a time of my choosing.” I picked up my cup. “That is all.”

I walked out.

Not a Committee Decision

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