My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 321

Don’t Tell Anyone

~Katia POV ~

The nausea had slammed into me thirty minutes earlier, right after I stared at two clear, pink lines on a smal plastic stick that refused to disappear no matter how many times I blinked or how hard I wished them away.

I was still trying to steady my breathing when Sam walked into my office, tablet already in hand, launching straight into the quarterly projections with her usual crisp, no–nonsense efficiency. I hadn’t absorbed a singl word. My hands were folded tightly on top of a closed folder I hadn’t opened once during the entire/meeting.” numbers on the page in front of me blurred into meaningless shapes.

“Katia.”

I blinked slowly. Sam had stopped talking and was watching me closely.

“Sorry,” I said. “Go on.”

“I’ve repeated the same sentence three times now,” she replied, setting the tablet down on her lap. Her eyes narrowed in that way she had when she decided the conversation was no longer about business. “Are you alrig

I considered lying. I had become dangerously skilled at it lately, smiling through tense family dinners, nodding along to conversations I barely heard, pretending my entire world wasn’t quietly unraveling at the seams. But was Sam. I had never really been able to hide the things that truly mattered from her.

“I think I’m about to have a very complicated year,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Sam set the tablet aside completely, giving me the full weight of her attention.

“How complicated are we talking?”

“That depends,” I said slowly, “on what you find.”

She tilted her head, curiosity sharpening her gaze. “Find where?”

I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I reached into the locked top drawer of my desk and pulled out a plain white envelope. No label. No seal. Just the flap tucked neatly inside. I slid it across the polished wooden surface toward her.

Sam stared at the envelope for several long seconds, then lifted her eyes to mine. The silent question hung between us. I gave the smallest nod. She picked it up, opened the flap, and looked inside

I watched her face the entire time, reading every micro–expression the way I had trained myself to do a TOSS countless high–stakes negotiating tables. First came the slight lift of her eyebrows. Then her lips parted just a fraction The professional composure she wore like armor cracked for a brief, telling moment

“Katia “Her voice dropped lower than usual. “Why would you want me to do this.”

“Can you get it done discreetly and quickly?”

“That’s not what I asked you

“I know,” I said, meeting her eyes steadily “I’m asking you to do it anyway

Sam closed the envelope with deliberate care, her thumb running along the sealed edge as though she could somehow read the secrets hidden inside through touch alone. The worry in her expression was real now, deeper than I had seen in a long time

Don’t Tell Anyone

“You understand what this means if it comes back the way you’re clearly afraid it might.”

“I don’t know what I’m afraid of,” I admitted honestly, leaning back in my chair. “Not completely. I’ve bee turning this over and over in my head for two years now. At three in the morning when I can’t sleep. In the when the water runs too hot. During meetings where I suddenly can’t follow a single sentence or number. I tell anymore whether I’m seeing real patterns or whether I’ve been surrounded by lies and half–truths for: that I’ve started inventing new ones just to stay one step ahead of the fear.”

Sam tapped the envelope lightly against her knee, thinking carefully.

“And if it’s nothing?” she asked. “If this comes back completely clean, no red flags, no surprises whatsoeve

“Then I’ve wasted your discretion on a paranoid afternoon, and I’ll never mention it again.”

Sam studied me for a long, heavy moment, searching my face. Then something shifted in her expression, th quiet, resolute commitment I knew so well from years of working together.

“A few days,” she said finally. “Maybe less if I push the right people.”

“Push them.”

She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice even though we were entirely alone in the office. “Whatever ti about… I need you to tell me one thing honestly. Is this about protecting yourself, or is this about protecting h

The question landed heavier than I expected. I rested my hand lightly on my stomach without thinking, the gesture still new, strange, and terrifying.

“I don’t know yet,” I said softly. “That’s what I need the answer to find out, but it’s about me.”

Sam held my gaze for several heartbeats, then tucked the envelope carefully into the inside pocket of her blaze: smoothing the fabric over it as if it might somehow reveal its contents if she weren’t careful.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll have something for you soon.

She stood, adjusting her blazer one last time at the door.

“Sam,” I called softly as she reached for the handle.

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