My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 39

My lick doesn’t even perk

Delia’s POV

The door to Julian’s private suite clicked shut, and for one glorious, delusional second, the world was perfect. The air in his room was different, cooler, smelling of cedar, expensive leather, and the heavy, intoxicating scent of the man who carried me. I felt the strength in his arms and the steady beat of his heart against my shoulder, and I let myself believe the lic. I let myself believe that the dinner, the kisses, and the promises of grandchildren weren’t just a performance for my mother.

Then, the world shifted.

Julian didn’t carry me to the massive, silk–draped bed in the center of the room. He didn’t even slow down. With a sudden, jarring motion, he unceremoniously dropped me. I didn’t land on soft pillows; I hit the hardwood floor with a dull thud, my dress bunching around my thighs.

“Ouch! Julian!” I gasped, looking up in shock.

The man standing over me wasn’t the loving husband from the dining room. The warmth had vanished from his eyes, replaced by a crystalline, predatory coldness that made the room feel like a tomb. He didn’t offer a hand to help me up. He didn’t even look concerned that he just dropped me on the floor as if carrying me was like carrying fire. Instead, he reached out and pressed a hidden panel on the far wall.

2

A narrow, recessed door slid open silently. It was a service passage, a shortcut that led directly to the hallway of my wing, bypassing the main gallery where my mother might still be lingering.

“The act is over, Delia,” he said, his voice a flat, dead monotone. “Go back to your room.”

I scrambled to my feet, my face burning with a mixture of shame and desperation. “Julian, wait. You told my mother… you told her you wanted children. You told her I was a loving wife. You can’t just turn it off like a faucet! I can give you those children. I can be the woman you need, even if you don’t love me yet. We’re married. This is what married people do!”

Julian turned his head slowly, his gaze raking over me with profound disinterest; it was worse than if he had struck me. He walked toward the hidden door and gestured toward the dark hallway beyond it.

“The door, Delia,” he commanded. “You knew exactly what you were signing up for when you agreed to this arrangement. I am a businessman, and I have fulfilled my contractual obligations for the evening. I do not have the time or the inclination to keep trying to make it sink into your head that I do not fancy you. You are a name on a document. Nothing more.”

“But you fucked that Chloe girl!” I screamed; the words tore from my throat, raw and ugly. “You brought her into this house! You slept with her in the guest suite while I was right down the hall! If you can touch her, why can’t you touch your own wife?”

Julian’s lip curled into a thin, cruel sneer. “Chloe knows her place. She is a professional who understands that she is a temporary convenience. I am a married man, and if my real wife ever walks through those doors, I don’t want to have to explain why I was wasting my time with a woman who was just a placeholder.”

“I played my part today,” Julian continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low vibration. “I gave your mother the show she wanted. Now, use the door before I lose my patience.”

In a final, desperate bid for his attention, I let the gown fall to the floor. I stood before him completely naked, trembling in the cool air of his bedroom, offering him everything I had. I waited for his pupils to dilate. I waited for him to reach for me, to finally realize that I was standing right here, while the wife whom I’ve never met was miles away.

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