My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 233

Seduction

The Ruined Seduction

~Delia~

She was in a cage.

+25 BONUS

The thought was a warm, sweet hum in my blood. For eighteen months, Katia had been a shadow over my life, a constant, irritating presence that drew my husband’s attention away from where it belonged. But today, the law had finally caught up with her. The pristine, untouchable CEO of I* Technologies had been dragged out of the Windsor estate in handcuffs, wearing the shame of a murder charge. Even if she wasn’t sleeping with Julian–even if the physical proof of their betrayal hadn’t yet landed in my lap the simple fact that she was locked behind steel bars was enough to make me breathe again.

Finally, I had him to myself.

With Katia out of the picture, the playing field was clear. I didn’t care if Julian was cold to me. I didn’t care if he had spent months treating me like a ghost in my own home. I was his wife, and tonight, I was going to remind him of exactly what that meant. I was willing to take things slow, to dismantle his defenses layer by layer, starting with the ultimate seduction.

I spent three hours preparing the dining room in my wing of the house. I had the staff clear away the standard setting, replacing it with a small, intimate table for two. I scattered fresh red rose petals across the dark, polished mahogany, their scent heavy and sweet in the warm air. I lit a dozen tall, tapered candles, casting a flickering, golden glow across the silver cutlery and the crystal glassware. It was perfect. It was a scene designed for a husband who was ready to be welcomed home by a woman who belonged to him.

Then, I dressed.

I chose a red Chanel dress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was made of ultra–fine silk, clinging to every curve of my hips and bust like a second skin. It was dangerously short–so short that whenever I moved, the fabric rode up, exposing the lower curve of my ass. I didn’t care. I wanted him to look. I wanted him to see what he had been ignoring. I left my hair down, cascading over my bare shoulders, and sprayed a heavy, expensive floral perfume on the heat points of my neck and wrists.

I poured two glasses of a deep red wine and stood near the entryway, listening to the heavy silence of the house.

My heart was doing a fast, fluttery dance against my ribs. Every nerve in my body was wired, waiting for the sound of his arrival. When the heavy front doors of the estate finally groaned open in the main hall, a victorious smile spread across my face. I picked up the two crystal glasses, the red wine sloshing slightly against the rims, and walked out to meet him.

“Welcome home, husband,” I said, my voice dropping to a smooth, purring register.

Julian was standing in the foyer, his coat already off, his tie slightly loosened. He looked tired, his shoulders broad and imposing in the dim lighting. He looked at me, his gaze dragging slowly down the length of my skimmed Chanel dress, noting the exposed skin of my thighs and the red silk that barely covered my chest.

He smirked. It wasn’t a warm look–it was that cold, dangerous tilt of his lips that always made my stomach tight.

“Thank you,” he said.

He reached out and took the glass of wine from my hand. I let out a breath, thinking he was about to step into my dining room, but instead, Julian turned right back toward the front door. He reached for the brass handle and pulled it open a second time.

Katia walked in.

The smile died on my face. My fingers went cold around my own wine glass, the liquid inside suddenly looking like blood. Katia was standing in the middle of my foyer, wearing an oversized, scratchy grey prison jumpsuit that bagged around her ankles. Her sleeves were rolled up to her wrists, and her face was pale, but her chin was held high. And then, there was the metallic, musical clink.

Silver handcuffs. They were still locked around her wrists, resting against the cheap, state–issued fabric of her jumpsuit.

The Ruined seduction

+25 BONUS

I stated at her, my breathing stopping completely. She was supposed to be in a cell. She was supposed to be locked away where she couldn’t reach him. But here she was, standing in my house, looking at my romantic table, my rose petals, and my red Chanel dress with a look of id, highly anised disbelief.

Katia wasn’t lying. When I had stood in front of her cell at the precinct, gloating about her ruin, she had leaned in and whispered those exact words into my ear: Julian will make sure I don’t sleep behind this cell. I am sleeping in your house tonight. She had told me, and I had laughed in her face. But Julian had gone to the ends of the earth to drag her out of that cage before the ink on the bail agreement was even dry.

“Delia was generous enough to prepare dinner for us,” Julian said, his voice completely level as he gestured toward my romantic table. He didn’t look at me; his eyes were locked entirely on Katia. “I think I will have to feed you, since you are still cuffed.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The sheer, staggering humiliation of it felt like a physical blow to my chest. I had spent hours preparing a seductive dinner for two, pouring my soul into a trap to catch my husband, and he had used it as a dumping ground for my sister.

The table was set for two. There were only two chairs.

I stood frozen as Julian escorted Katia toward the table. He pulled out the velvet chair I had set for him and guided her into it, the grey fabric of her prison jumpsuit scraping against the expensive upholstery. He sat in the second chair, leaving me standing in my skimpy red dress like a paid escort who had arrived at the wrong party.

“Delia,” Julian said, his voice cutting through my paralysis. “We need another chair.”

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. I had to walk to the corner of the dining room, drag a heavy, mismatched oak chair across the polished floor, and force it between them. The screech of the wood against the floor was the only protest I was allowed to make.

I sat down, my chest heaving under the tight red silk of my dress.

I watched them. I sat there and watched as Julian picked up the silver fork, cut a small piece of the roasted meat I had ordered from the kitchen, and held it to Katia’s lips. He blew on it slightly, his movements slow, patient, and completely natural, as if feeding a handcuffed woman in a grey prison jumpsuit was something they did every Tuesday night.

Katia opened her mouth, took the food, and chewed slowly.

“The forensic trail on the router logs is almost complete,” Julian said, his voice quiet as he leaned closer to her, his large hand resting on the back of her chair. “Marcus is running the IP traceback now. Whoever uploaded the splice used a WEG secure node.

”

r “An executive code?” Katia asked, her voice calm, her cuffed wrists resting on the edge of the mahogany table, making the silver clink against my polished silverware. “That narrows the list.”

“Significantly,” Julian agreed, holding another forkful of food to her mouth.

They didn’t look at me. They didn’t even pretend I was in the room. They sat at my romantic table, surrounded by my rose petals and my flickering candles, and discussed the security protocols of their multi–billion–dollar empires while my husband fed her like a child. The intimacy of it was suffocating. It was a private language, a level of connection that I had never, not once in my entire life, managed to access with Julian.

My throat went dry. I tried to take a sip of my wine, but the alcohol tasted like ash on my tongue. The jealousy in my chest was a living, breathing monster, clawing at my ribs until I felt like I was going to scream.

“I’m going to get my plate,” I choked out.

Neither of them answered. Julian was too busy wiping a small drop of sauce from the corner of Katia’s lip with his thumb.

I stood up, my heels clicking violently against the floor as I pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen. The kitchen

was quiet, the staff having already gone to their quarters for the evening. The cold, stainless steel counters and white subway tiles felt like a sterile contrast to the stifling heat of my rage.

The Ruinert Seduction

+25 BONUS

The inoment the doors swung shut behind me, my composure shattered.

I grabbed the crystal wine glass in my hard and hurled it with all may strength against the wall.

The glass shattered into a thousand jagged pieces, the dark red wine splashing across the white tiles like a violent stain. I let out a low, guttural screech of pure, unfiltered rage, my hands gripping the edge of the counter until my nails turned white.

“When the fuck will Katia learn to fucking stop?” screamed into the empty room.

She was supposed to be ruined. She was supposed to be in a cell, dirty and broken, while I claimed what was mine. But instead, she had turned my own house, my own dining room, into her playground. She had Julian feeding her. She had Julian fighting the entire state of New York for her.

I took three deep, ragged breaths, trying to stop the shaking in my legs. I wiped a stray tear from my cheek, refusing to let them see me break. I smoothed down the red Chanel dress, picked up a clean plate, and loaded it with food from the warming trays. I was a Kensington. I was not going to let them run me out of my own wing.

I pushed the swinging doors open and walked back into the dining room.

The room was empty.

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