My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 361

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Third Home

-Katia-

We stayed on the balcony a while longer after everything had settled between us, the city lights below shifting slowly from gold to something quieter as the evening deepened.

“Should we finish everything we planned here?” Julian asked eventually, bis arm still loose around my waist. “Nami Island. The rest of it. Or would you rather go home now, given everything?”

I considered the question for a moment, genuinely weighing it rather than answering out of habit.

“I think I would like to finish it,” I said. “Slower this time. No roller coasters.”

“No roller coasters,” Julian agreed. “I believe Aiden has already accepted that ban.”

I smiled, then something in his expression shifted, thoughtful in a way that usually meant he was working through an idea he had not quite decided to share yet.

“What?” I asked.

“I have been thinking,” he said. “About buying a villa here. Somewhere we could come back to, whenever we wanted, without the trouble of hotels and packed suitcases. A third home.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Third,” I repeated. “Where is the second?”

Julian went quiet for a moment, and something careful passed behind his eyes.

“France,” he said. “Where it all started. I bought a mansion there eight months ago. Under your name.”

I stared at him.

“Under my name,” I said slowly. “Julian, eight months ago I still had no idea who you actually were to me. I did not know the man I was sleeping with and the man I had married in Vegas were the same person.”

“I knew,” he said simply. “I have known for longer than I ever told you. I bought it because I wanted you to have something that belonged entirely to you, somewhere with no strings attached to anything else happening around us, in case you ever needed a place that was simply yours.” He paused. “I never told you because I did not know how to explain it without explaining everything else alongside it.”

I sat with that for a long moment, the weight of it settling somewhere warm and complicated in my ches; the same place that had been carrying so much of Julian’s quiet, unspoken devotion these past several weeks.

I leaned up and kissed him, slow and full of something I did not entirely have words for yet, gratitude tangled together with the strange, dizzying realization that he had been building a life around me long before I understood what he actually meant to me

“Thank you,” I said when I finally pulled back. “For all of it.”

“You are welcome. I am the lucky one here; you are the “it” for me, Katia,” he said quietly.

I smiled. “A villa here would not be a bad idea,” I said. “I love this country. I did not expect to love it this much, honestly, but I do.

Julian’s mouth curved into something soft.

“I noticed,” he said. “That is why I already started looking.”

“You already started looking,” I repeated, laughing despite myself. “Before I even said yes. ”

“I had a feeling,” he said. “You have been happier here than I have seen you in a long time. I wanted to be ready in case you telt

Third Horan

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the same way I did about wanting to come back.”

“You are very confident,” said.

“I am very observant,” he corrected. “There is a difference.”

I shook my head, though I could not fully hide the smile pulling at my own mouth, and settled back against his side, looking out over the city one more time before the night pulled us both back inside.

“Show me what you found,” I said. “The villa. I want to see it.”

Julian reached for his phone without hesitation, as though he had been waiting the entire evening for exactly this invitation, and pulled up a set of photographs: a low, modern house set into a hillside somewhere outside the city, all glass and pale stone, a view that stretched out over green terraced hills toward the distant curve of the coast.

“It is beautiful,” I said, scrolling slowly through the images.

“I thought you would like it,” Julian said. “There is a garden large enough for Aiden to run wild in. And a room upstairs with good light, in case you ever wanted somewhere quiet to work while we are here.”

“You thought of everything,” I said.

“I tried to,” he said. “I wanted it to actually be yours, not just a place with your name attached to a deed somewhere. Somewhere you would genuinely want to come back to.”

I looked up at him, at the careful, hopeful expression he was doing a poor job of hiding, and felt my chest ache with something close to disbelief that this was the same man who had once stood cold and unreadable across a boardroom table from me, giving

away nothing.

“Buy it,” I said. “The villa. Our third home.”

Julian smiled, real and unguarded, and pulled me closer against his side.

“Our third home,” he agreed.

We sat there for a while longer, the villa photographs still open on his phone between us, and I found myself scrolling back through them a second time, lingering on a picture of the garden, wide and green, bordered by a low stone wall that seemed built for exactly the kind of chaos our son could bring to it.

“He is going to want a dog here,” I said, imagining Aiden running through that grass with something small and loud trailing

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