My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 258

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Apes predator

~katia-

The heavy mahogany double doors of my penthouse didn’t just open, they were vapor berd

The wood fractured with a deafening, explosive crash that shook the entire living room, the brass lost ripping our of the Braise and clattering across the hardwood floor.

Jude’s head snapped toward the sound.

Julian Windsor stood in the doorway.

He didn’t have his coat on. He was in his dark trousers and a black shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair wild and messy. But his face-god, his face was not human. His eyes were pitch black, empty of all sanity, carrying the tax lethal focus of an apex predator that had just walked into his den and found another beast putting his hands on what was his. The control he had maintained all week hadn’t just slipped; it had been completely, irreversibly destroyed.

Julian didn’t say a word. He didn’t issue a warning. He didn’t make a corporate threat. Héran.

He crossed the twenty feet of my living room in a split second, a blur of pure, muscular violence. Before Jude could even release my wrists, Julian’s large, scarred hand reached out and grabbed Jude by the collar of his expensive tailored suit.

Julian yanked him back. The sheer physical force of the pull ripped Jude away from the wall, his heavy hundred-and-ninety- pound frame flying backward across the kitchen counter, sending my glass of water and the marble knife block crashing to the floor in a loud, shattering explosion.

Jude hit the floor hard, but he was a trained racer, his body rolling instantly to find his feet.

But Julian didn’t give him a fraction of a second.

Julian descended on him like a monster. He didn’t play the corporate executive; he didn’t use clean, calculated moves. This was a brutal, blood-spattered slaughter. Julian’s fist came down-hard. The sharp, sickening crack of his bare knuckles connecting with Jude’s jaw echoed in the quiet penthouse, the force of the blow sending Jude’s head snapping back against the hardwood.

“Julian, stop!” I screamed, my voice cracking as I slid down the wall, my legs trembling so hard I couldn’t stand.

Julian didn’t hear me. He was entirely gone, lost in the dark, primitive static of his possessive rage.

He grabbed Jude by the hair, dragging his face off the floor, and slammed his fist directly into Jude’s nose. The bone shattered instantly, a violent spray of dark red blood splashing across the white marble of my kitchen island and Julian’s black shirt. Jude let out a guttural, choked gasp, trying to raise his arms to block the attack, but Julian was relentless.

Julian pinned Jude’s chest with his knee, his large hands grabbing Jude’s collar, and began systematically, brutally destroying his face.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The sound of bare fists hitting wet, broken bone was loud and continuous, a primitive, sickening rhythm that filled the penthouse. Julian was savage. He used his bare hands to reclaim his territory, his knuckles splitting open, his own blood mig with Jude’s as he beat the man into the floor. He didn’t care about the laws, he didn’t care about the press outside, and he didn care about the consequences. He was a beast executing an intruder.

“Julian, please! You’re going to kill him!” I sobbed, crawling toward them, my hands slipping in the dark pool of blood that was rapidly spreading across the pristine hardwood.

Jude was barely conscious now, his face a swollen, unrecognizable mass of red, his chest heaving in short, wet gasps. But through the swelling of his eyes, he looked up at the wild, murderous fury in Julian’s face.

He saw the raw, primitive possessiveness in Julian’s eyes-the unhinged, territorial madness of a man who was beating another billionaire to death because he had touched the woman on the floor.

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-Lift

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Jude let out a wet, bloody cough, a slow, horrifying, realization registering in his broken eyes. He looked at bulan, the theked his gaze toward the purple bruises on my neck and then back to Julian.

He was probably suspecting Julian was the man who left the marks, but he didn’t have proof, but the sheer nuclear intensity of Julian’s violence–the fact that the owner of the Windsor Empire Group had just stormed a penthouse to commit murder with his bare fists-made the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Julian wasn’t just protecting a busteses partner.

Julian raised his fist for another blow, his knuckles dripping with blood, his chest rising and falling in heavy, ragged gasps. “Julian! Aiden!” I screamed, grabbing his arin with both of my hands, throwing my entire body weight against his shoulder to stop the strike. “Julian, think of Aiden! If you kill him here, they will take Aiden away! Please!”

The name of my son seemed to cut through the dark static of his mind.

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