My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 269

Before Tessa could even turn her head to acknowledge the shadow behind her, Sam reached out, grabbed Tessa by the shoulder, and spun her around.

Crack.

The sound of Sam’s open palm connecting with Tessa’s cheek was incredibly loud, a sharp, ringing explosion of physical violence that bounced off the high concrete ceilings of my office. The force of the blow was so direct that Tessa’s head snapped to the side, her body stumbling a half-step back against my leather guest hairs, her hand flying up to cover the immediate. dark red print blooming on her skin.

My eyes widened.

I sat frozen behind my desk, my heart doing a sudden, violent thud against my ribs. I knew Sam. I knew her better than almost anyone in this city; I knew her limits, her fierce protectiveness, and the quiet, structured way she handled chaos. But seeing my cool, operations-driven friend physically strike a multi-million-dollar racing heir in the center of my corporate sinte was a statement so massive it made my brain stall.

Sam didn’t look at the shock on my face. She stood her ground, her fingers curled into tight, trembling tists at her sides, her eyes blazing as she looked down at the stunned woman.

“Don’t you ever in your life push me again,” Sam said.

Her voice was quiet. The kind of quiet that carried no give in it, no room for negotiation. She turned on her heel, her heels clieking rapidly and violently against the hardwood floor as she walked out, pulling the double doors shut behind her with a sharp, heavy click.

The silence that returned to the room was just what I needed.

Tessa stood by the leather chair, her hand still pressed against her cheek, her chest rising and falling in rapid, frantic breaths

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The pristine, elite racer had been completely shattered, replaced by a woman whose eyes were wide with pure, unadulterated

shock.

Slowly, she turned her head to look at me, her voice shaking as she gestured toward the door.

“You are going to let your PA slap me?” Tessa asked, her tone rising in a high, raw register of disbelief.

I didn’t rise from my chair. I slowly leaned back against the leather, my hands folding calmly over my lap, keeping my fare arranged into a flawless, untouchable mask of professional indifference. I didn’t show the panic. I didn’t show the shock. I met her furious gaze with a cold, level stare that went straight through her.

“Ms. Sterling, this is my office,” I said, my voice smooth, quiet, and entirely steady. “I decide who comes and goes, and right now, you walked into my office without an appointment. Do you think this is one of your circuits where you can race your toys whenever you wish? This is my office, and you will act accordingly.”

Tessa’s fingers slowly slid off her cheek. The dark red marks were already turning purple under her makeup, but she forced her shoulders straight, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to the desk. She looked at me, her gaze sweeping over my cream suit, my hair, and my face, tracking me from head to toe with a slow, highly critical appraisal.

“Aaah,” Tessa said, a tight, vicious smirk touching the corner of her lips. “You are not even ar! that.”

I let a cold, highly amused smile touch my own lips. I raised my chin, looking at her with the quiet, detached curiosity of a scientist studying a nuisance.

“If I am not all that, then what brings you to my office?” I asked, my voice dropping to a quiet, mocking murmur. “I must be all that for you to leave your expensive cars and find yourself here.”

Tessa’s smirk faltered, her jaw clenching so hard the muscle beneath her skin twitched. She leaned her hands flat against the mahogany of my desk, trying to project the physical dominance she was used to using on the starting grid, but the red print on her cheek made the gesture look desperate.

“Well, I heard something interesting,” Tessa said, her voice dropping to a low, deliberate speed dripping with venom. ” Apparently, Julian is interested in Catwoman, not you.”

The statement landed in the room like a physical weight, but it didn’t hit the target she wanted.

Inside my chest, a dry, incredulous laugh escaped my throat. She thought she was hurting me. She had no idea she was looking directly at the face behind the visor.

I slowly stood up, my posture completely straight, my shoulders dominant as I looked down at her over the desk.

“You must be really desperate to leave your house and come to my office to tell me Mr. Windsor is interested in another woman, “I said, my voice level and entirely empty of warmth. “What are we? Are we in high school? Get the fuck but of my office”

Tessa’s lips parted in a silent, choked gasp of pure shock. The high school card had been completely incinerated, leaving her standing there with no leverage, no defense, and absolutely no dignity left.

She turned on her heel, her heels clicking rapidly as she prepared to storm out the door.

But as she reached the threshold, she didn’t clear the exit.

Tessa bumped directly into someone stepping into the office. The collision was sharp, her shoulder hitting his chest with a force that had her stumbling back a step.

I looked up.

Standing in the doorway, dressed in an immaculate, dark three-piece suit that cost more than my first server array, was jude Wolfe.

His face was still tightly held together by wire mesh and titanium screws, his nose packed with small gauze, his left eye swollen into a plum-colored slit. He held a sleek, silver cane in his hand, his posture perfectly straight, his dark hair styled with the

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pristine, unhurried elegance of a British aristocrat who owned every room he walked into regardless of his physical decimation

Tessa’s head snapped up. She looked at his face, then at his suit, and a sudden, wide, and highly social smile broke across her lips. She ignored the marks on her cheek, her hands rising slightly in a gesture of false charm.

“Oh my, Jude,” Tessa said, her voice rising into that smooth, elite register. “We met in London We raced together”

Jude didn’t look at her.

He didn’t acknowledge her hands, he didn’t return the smile, and he didn’t give her a fraction of his attention. His single good eye bypassed her entirely, locking onto me where I stood behind the desk with a cold, absorite, and unblinking focus.

“Okay, please,” Jude said, his British accent low, flat, and entirely unhurried as he gestured with his cane toward the door. “I’d like to speak to my wife.”

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Husland My Ass

-Katia

The silence that followed Jude’s words was not just heavy, it was a physical pressure that made the air in my office turn to ace

Tessa stood frozen in the open threshold of the double doors, her hand still raised from the collision, her social smile dying a sudden, ghastly death on her lips. Her dark eyes darted from the tall, battered frame of the British racing heir to me, her mind frantically trying to process the sheer, staggering weight of the word he had just used.

Wife.

Inside my chest, the cold adrenaline of my corporate defense instantly turned into a hot, violent spike of pure rage I didn’t care about his titanium screws, his wire-mesh jaw, or the looming forty-eight-hour clock rumming in Julian’s chest I didn’t care about the press outside or the stock prices of I* Technologies. I only cared about the fact that this broken, abusive predator had just walked into my fortress and tried to write his name on my life.

I didn’t laugh. I didn’t flinch. I slowly stepped out from behind my glass desk, my corporate armor locking inca place with a terrifying, absolute finality.

“Get the fuck out of my office, Wolfe, or I will have security throw you out,” I barked.

The words were not a warning; they were a direct, razor-sharp promise.

Jude didn’t move. He stood in the doorway, his silk-coated shoulders straight, his single good eye tracking my approach with a slow, highly clinical amusement. He let out a short, rattling whistle through his wired teeth-a sound that carried the full, condescending weight of his aristocratic entitlement.

“Is this how you welcome your husband back?” Jude asked, his accent low, flat, and dripping with an artificial sweetness that made my stomach turn.

“Husband my ass,” I spat, my voice dropping to a dangerous, icy register as I stopped three feet from him. “You can take your husband ass out of my office right now.”

Beside him, Tessa’s eyes widened further. She took a half-step back toward the corridor, the realization hitting her that she had just walked into a domestic slaughterhouse that she wanted absolutely no part of. The elite composure she had paraded all morning was completely incinerated, replaced by the raw, panicked instinct of a woman who knew when the asphalt was about to turn lethal.

Jude’s amusement vanished in a fraction of a second. The muscles around his swollen, plum-colored left eye tightened, his jaw clenching so hard the wires beneath his skin groaned.

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