My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 23

He Said No Sex

Delia’s POV

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I didn’t touch the food. The plate sat in front of me, untouched and growing cold, steam long gone, the carefully arranged meal reduced to decoration just like me. Julian’s chair across the table was already empty, pushed back and abandoned, a quiet reminder that he had left without looking back stared at the plate for a few seconds, my hands resting uselessly on either side of it, my appetite completely gone, my body too tight with shock to remember how to breathe properly.

Already married.

The words replayed in my head again and again, each time cutting deeper, peeling away another layer of illusion I had carefully built around myself. I had walked into that restaurant believing. No, hoping that this was the moment everything would change. That he would finally look at me the way he looked at her. That I would matter.

Instead, I was given terms. Cold fucking terms!

I pushed back from the table, my chair scraping softly against the floor. A waiter glanced in my direction, hesitated, then looked away when he saw my face. I didn’t wait for dessert. I didn’t ask for a doggy bag or touch the damn fucking food. I didn’t even pretend.

I stood and walked out.

The Rolls–Royce was already waiting when I stepped outside, as if Julian had anticipated my quick exit, as if everything about this day had been calculated down to the minute. I slid into the backseat without a word, my hands clenched tightly in my lap.

The car pulled away from The Velvet Ember, and I stared out the window, watching the city blur past, lights streaking into meaningless lines. My reflection stared back at me in the tinted glass–perfect makeup, flawless hair, a woman dressed to be chosen.

And yet.

He will never touch me.

That was the part I couldn’t shake.

Not the marriage itself. Not the secrecy. Not even the humiliation of knowing I would never truly be his wife in the way the world assumed.

It was that sentence.

Because what was the point of a marriage without desire?

Without intimacy?

Without the power of knowing a man wanted you?

The car stopped in front of my parents‘ house just before four in the afternoon. I didn’t thank the driver. I didn’t look back at the car once I stepped out. I walked straight inside, my composure shattering with every step.

My mother was in the living room, the television murmuring softly in the background. She looked up the moment she saw me, concern flashing across her face.

“Delia?” she asked, standing. “What happened?”

I crossed the room and collapsed onto the sofa, my body folding in on itself as the tears came fast and hard, hot and humiliating.

“Mother,” I sobbed, clutching at her sleeve. “He said he will never touch me.”

She stiffened. “What?”

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“He said he said there will be no bed, no intimacy, no sex,” I cried. “What is the use of a marriage if there will be no sex?”

My chest heaved as I spoke, the words turnbling out in broken pieces, fear and disbelief tangled together. My mother sat beside me and pulled me into her arms, stroking my hair with practiced calm.

“Hush,” she said softly. “You’re overreacting.”

I pulled back, staring at her through tears. “How can you say that?”

“Most men say things like that before marriage,” she replied calmly. “Especially powerful men. They like to test you. To see if you’ll flinch.”

“I don’t think he was testing me,” I whispered.

“He was,” she insisted. “He wants you to chicken out. He knows intimacy is important in a marriage. He’s trying to scare you.”

I shook my head. “He sounded serious.”

“That’s how they always sound,” she said dismissively. “But once you’re inside the marriage, things change. You’ll seduce him. Men like him don’t stay untouched for long.”

Marry him. That was the solution. Even if he didn’t want me now, he would eventually. Men always did. I

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