My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 386

Lapdog

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Katia’s POV

Sam sat across from my desk with her tablet open and that look she got when she already knew the answer but wanted me to say it out loud.

“Why did Delia make an appointment?” she asked.

I kept scrolling through the quarterly numbers on my screen.

“I don’t give much of a shit,” I said. “I’ve been civil. I’ve answered her calls. I’ve stayed out of the press when she tried to drag me into it. She still treats me like I personally ordered her to play house with a man who never wanted her. That’s her problem, not mine.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“She’s listed under Vesper Group. Same company that sent the gala invitations.”

“I noticed.”

“You going to take the meeting?”

“She’s already on the calendar. Cancelling now just gives her another story to sell. Let her come. I’ll listen. Then I’ll send her back to whoever is pulling her strings.”

Sam opened her mouth to say something else when my phone lit up with Julian’s name. I answered on

speaker.

“You’re on speaker with Sam,” I said.

“Vesper Group wants to invest in WEG,” Julian said without greeting. His voice was flat, the way it got when something annoyed him more than it surprised him.

I laughed.

“Of course they do. These Vesper people are using my sister. Delia doesn’t know anything about business beyond posing for cameras and smiling at the right tables. She’s hungry to stay valid, so they’ll keep sending her into rooms she doesn’t understand until it stops being useful.”

“If they wanted to approach WEG they could have at least done their homework,” Julian said. “The offer is structured like we’re the ones who need capital. It’s insulting.

“I figured. I’ll see you at home.”

“Be careful with her.”

I’m always careful.”

I ended the call. Sam was already standing, gathering her things with a small, knowing smile.

tapding

“This should be entertaining,” she muttered.

The door to my office burst open before she reached it.

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Delia stood there in a tailored suit that still carried the price tag of someone trying too hard. Her expression was pure performance. Chin high. Shoulders back. The same look she wore when she used to walk into rooms on Julian’s arm and pretend the marriage was real.

I smiled.

Sam made a sound that was almost a laugh, smothered it, and slipped out, closing the door behind her carefully.

Delia stepped forward like she owned the carpet.

“Mrs. Windsor,” she said, voice bright and false. “I’m Delia Kensington and I believe we have a meeting.”

I looked at her, amused.

“Nice meeting you, Ms. Kensington. How may I help you?”

The formality sat between us like a loaded gun. She knew I was playing. I knew she hated it. She still opened the folder she carried and slid a thin proposal across my desk.

“My company would like to invest in IT Technologies,” she said. “Here is the proposal.”

I didn’t touch it.

“Do you know what IT Technologies actually does?” I asked.

Delia’s smile tightened.

“It’s one of the divisions under the larger structure. Vesper is interested in a strategic stake.”

“IT Technologies handles cybersecurity contracts for three government agencies, private infrastructure for two major banks, and proprietary threat-detection software that isn’t for sale. Which part exactly is Vesper planning to invest in? The classified contracts they can’t touch, the banking systems that require clearances they don’t have, or the software that isn’t on the market?”

She hesitated. The pause lasted one second too long.

“You can read the proposal,” she said.

I leaned back in my chair and studied her.

“Sis, are you okay?”

The question came out genuine. I almost surprised myself. She looked thinner than the last time I had seen her. The sharp edges were still there, but underneath them was something frayed.

Delia’s face twisted.

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“I’m perfectly okay,” she said, voice rising. “Especially since you took my husband and fucked him for the past two years.”

I didn’t answer. I had explained myself enough times. In the family house. In front of cameras. In quiet conversations that went nowhere. There was nothing left to give her on that subject.

I tapped the proposal with one finger.

“Delia, you let this company turn you into their lapdog and their laughing stock. They saw the desperation. They know you want to stay relevant, so they send you to run errands. First the guest list. Now this. You walked into Julian’s office earlier today with an offer so poorly structured he didn’t even open the folder. And now you bring me the same energy like I won’t notice.”

Her cheeks flushed dark.

“Listen, you piece of shit,” she snapped. “I don’t want to work with you, but I’m here because my company wants you on board. So sign the damn fucking contract so we can get it over with. You are nothing, Katia. You are just a woman who fucked her way into the top!”

The words hung in the air.

I smiled slowly.

“There she is,” I said. “I was wondering how long the polite version would last.”

I stood up and walked around the desk until there was almost no space left between us. Delia held her ground, but her throat moved when she swallowed.

“You want nasty?” I said, voice low and clear. “Fine. Let’s do nasty.”

I counted it off on my fingers as I spoke.

“You spent two years living in a man’s house under an arrangement he spelled out on day one. No sex. No real marriage. Just a name and a schedule of appearances. You took the clothes, the jewelry, the invitations, and the photos. Then you cried victim when the truth showed up. You slapped my son in front of his school. You called him a bastard for the cameras. You dragged journalists into family business that was never yours to air. And now you stand in my office, in a company that is using you like a delivery service, and you call me the one who fucked her way up?”

Delia’s mouth opened. I didn’t let her speak.

“I married Julian Windsor seven years ago in Vegas when neither of us knew the other’s full name. I raised our son alone while you were still practicing your smile in the mirror. I built a company from nothing while you were busy collecting place cards, When the truth came out I didn’t run to the press. I didn’t slap children. I didn’t invent a marriage that never existed and then demand the city feel sorry for me when it collapsed.”

1 took another step closer.

“You want to talk about fucking my way to the top? The only person in this room who traded her body

and her dignity for a last name is you. You just did it so badly the man never touched you. That most sting. Watching him look at me the way he never once looked at you. Watching him claim our son in public while you stood there with his handprint on your face because you couldn’t keep your hands off a little boy”

Delia’s eyes were bright with fury and something that looked a lot like shame

“You don’t get to walk in here and rewrite the story,” 1 continued. “You don’t get to call me nothing while you carry proposals you don’t understand for men who won’t even tell you their father’s name Vesperis using you. Everyone can see it. Julian saw it in five minutes, I saw it the second you opened your mouth The only person still pretending otherwise is you.”

I picked up the proposal, held it between two fingers, and let it drop back onto the desk

“I’m not signing anything. I’m not taking a meeting with a company that sends the least qualified person in the building to do their talking. And I’m not pretending we’re strangers so you can feel important for twenty minutes. You want to keep running their errands? Do it somewhere else. You want to keep calling me a whore for the life I actually lived while you were busy performing one? Keep going. The city already watched you lose. They don’t need a sequel.”

Delia’s breathing had gone shallow. Her hands were fists at her sides.

“You think you’re better than me,” she said, voice shaking.

“I know exactly what I am,” I answered. “A wife. A mother. A woman who built something real. You still don’t know what you are without a borrowed last name, and that’s the part that is eating you alive.”

1 walked back around the desk and sat down. I opened my laptop and turned the screen toward me like the conversation was already finished.

“You can leave the proposal if it makes you feel like you completed the assignment,” I said without looking up. “Or you can take it with you. Either way, the answer is no. Close the door on your way out.”

For a second she didn’t move. The silence stretched. Then she snatched the folder off the desk hard enough to send papers sliding, turned on her heel, and walked out. The door shut behind her with a sharp bang.

I sat still for a moment, listening to the quiet that followed,

Sam reappeared almost immediately, eyes wide.

“That was-”

“I know,” I said.

I picked up my phone and typed a short message to Julian.

Katia: She came. She tried the same offer. I declined. She left angry.

His reply came fast

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Julian: Good. Come home early.

I locked the screen, exhaled, and looked at Sam.

“Cancel anything else that has her name on it,” I said. “I’m done being available for her performances.”

Sam nodded and left.

I turned back to the numbers on my screen, but my mind stayed on the empty doorway for a long time after. Delia had walked in trying to play a role she still didn’t understand. She had walked out carrying the same emptiness she brought with her.

I almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

Then I remembered Aiden’s face the day she slapped him, and the feeling disappeared.

I had work to finish before I went home to my husband and our son. Everything else could wait.

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