My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 53

Stop trying

+25 Bonus

Julian’s POV

The scent of Katia was still a ghost in my study, a haunting mixture of jasmine, expensive skin, and that underlying hint of ozone that seemed to follow her everywhere. Even after a shower, even after scrubbing the physical memory of her from my skin, I could swear the fragrance had embedded itself into the very pores of my hands. I sat in my high–backed leather chair, the only light in the room coming from the three massive monitors displaying encrypted telemetry data and the flickering orange glow of a streetlamp outside the Windsor estate.

A soft, hesitant scratching at the door broke the silence. It wasn’t a knock of authority, it was the sound of someone who wasn’t sure they were allowed to exist in the same hallway. I didn’t need to look at the security feed to know it was Delia. She didn’t have the biometric clearance to bypass the locks on the West Wing, so she stood there like a shadow, a constant, irritating reminder of the agreement my grandmother had with the Kensingtons.

“Julian?” Her voice was barely a whisper, filtered through the heavy mahogany It was timid and cautious, like the sound of a woman walking on glass. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re working. I just… I wanted to let you know that I’ve arranged the menu for the dinner with Mom and Dad tomorrow. I made sure to include the vintage you liked.”

I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes on the screen, scrolling through the logs of a ghost. I was looking for a bike, a rider, a woman who didn’t exist in any official database but lived vividly in the dark corners of my mind.

초

“I also… I left your favorite tea on the console in the hallway,” she added, her voice trailing off as if she were waiting for a word, a grunt, or any sign that I had heard her. When the silence stretched too long, I heard the faint rustle of her robe as she shifted her weight. “I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight, Julian.”

I leaned back, my jaw tightening until it ached. Delia was trying. That was the problem. Her submissiveness, her quiet attempts to play the “perfect wife,” were becoming more suffocating than an open argument would be. She was observant. She was quiet. And quiet people noticed things. She had smelled that perfume on me when I walked in, and though she hadn’t dared to ask about it, the look in her eyes had been one of shattered hope.

I needed to move the target. I needed to give her a reason for that scent that had nothing to do with her sister. If she stayed focused on my silence, she would eventually start looking at the meetings I was having, the hours I spent “consulting” with I* Technologies, and the way my pulse changed whenever Katia walked into a room.

I needed a diversion. A smokescreen so thick and loud that Delia would be blinded by a predictable jealousy. The lunch with Seraphina was enough, but it didn’t send enough of a message.

I picked up my phone; the background noise was filled with the thumping bass of a club in Milan.

“Julian,” Seraphina’s voice purred, “I was wondering when the Great Ice King would finally get bored of his palace. Did the little wife finally go to sleep?”

“I need you in the city tomorrow,” I said, my voice a flat, business–like monotone. “Lunch at Le Bernardin. 12:30 PM. Wear the custom fragrance you had at the office during the campaign shoot. The one that lingers.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. Seraphina was many things: a world–class model, a social climber, and a professional manipulator, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew exactly what I was asking for. I wasn’t asking for a date, I was hiring a shield.

“A public performance?” she laughed, the sound sharp and knowing. “How scandalous. You want the paparazzi to see us. You want the tabloids to run the headline ‘Windsor’s Wandering Eye‘ by sunset. What’s in it for me, Julian? I don’t do charity work for cold marriages, besides, you have been using me for some time now.”

“A seat at the table for the next WEG global rebranding campaign. And I’ll cover the lease on the flat in Paris for the next year,“I countered. “I’ll also ensure your name is the only one mentioned in the style section for the next three months.”

“Make it two years on the flat, and I’ll even throw in a scene for the cameras that will make your wife want to pack her bags,” she said, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper.

“One year, Seraphina. Take it, or I call the girl from the Tokyo agency.”

Stop trying3

+25 Bonus

“Fine,” she hissed, though I could hear the smirk in her voice. “One year. And I’ll be wearing enough of that perfume to make sure everyone within a five–block radius knows I’ve been sitting next to you. Don’t be late, Julian. I hate waiting for men, even billionaire ones.“.

I hung up and stood, the silence of the room suddenly feeling heavy. I walked to the door and engaged the release. It hissed open, and I found Delia still standing there, about to pick up the untouched tray of tea she had left. She looked up, startled, her eyes wide and full of a desperate sort of longing that I had no intention of fulfilling.

“Julian,” she breathed, her hands clutching the tray. “I didn’t think you were coming out.”

“I have a lunch meeting tomorrow with Seraphina,” I said, my voice as cold as the marble floors beneath us. I didn’t look at her; I looked through her. “It’s regarding the finalization of the marketing boards for the European expansion. I expect to be home late for the dinner with your parents. Ensure the staff doesn’t wait for me to begin the first course. I might come home with her, so make sure you parent leave in time.”

The color drained from her face. She knew who Seraphina was, so I didn’t need to explain further. But instead of the outburst I might have expected from a normal woman, she simply lowered her head. Her knuckles turned white against the silver tray.

“Of course,” she whispered. “Is there anything special you’d like me to tell Mother if you’re delayed?”

“Tell her I’m busy,” I said, stepping into the hallway and forcing her to retreat a step. I didn’t acknowledge her effort, the tea, or the way she had waited in the dark just to catch a glimpse of me. “And Delia? Stop hovering. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice breaking just a fraction. “I just wanted to make sure you were… taken care of.”

“I take care of myself, and Seraphina does her job very well,” I said, brushing past her.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify