My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 56

kater might mesting

late night meeting

Katia’s POV

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The digital clock on my dashboard flickered to 2:14 AM. The city was a graveyard of steel and glass at this hour, yet the Windsor Building glowed like a beacon of restless power. I shouldn’t have been here. I should have been in bed, trying to scrub the smell of adrenaline and high–octane fuel from my skin, but Julian’s “emergency” summons had been impossible to ignore. A legal technicality regarding the WEG–I* merger required a physical signature on a series of notary papers that apparently couldn’t wait until dawn.

I knew it was a power play. A test to see if I was still rattled after the chase on the bridge.

The lobby was empty, the marble floors echoing with the sharp click of my boots. The security guards didn’t even stop me; they simply tapped their hats, their eyes fixed on the monitors. I was a “partner” now, but as the elevator rose upwards, I felt more like a gladiator entering an arena.

The doors hissed open to the executive floor. The lights were dimmed, casting long shadows across the open–plan office. I made my way toward the corner suite, pushing the heavy glass doors open without knocking.

The room was silent save for the low hum of the server banks. Julian wasn’t behind his desk. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the leather sofa in the corner. He was sprawled there, his tie discarded on the coffee table, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even.

For a heartbeat, I stopped.

Without the armor of his cold gaze, Julian looked… human and, somehow, looked like Aiden. The harsh lines of his face were softened by sleep, and the predatory edge that usually defined his presence had vanished, replaced by an exhaustion so deep it seemed to pull at the air around him. The “Great Ice King” was vulnerable, a lion sleeping in a den he had built out of glass and

secrets.

I moved closer, my footsteps silent on the thick carpet. I stood over him, my heart doing a strange, fluttering dance in my chest. This was the man who had tried to tag my bike. This was the man who was currently trying to dismantle my life. And yet, looking at him now, I felt a pull that had nothing to do with the war we were fighting. I reached out, my fingers hovering just inches from his forehead, wanting to smooth the faint crease of worry that remained even in sleep.

Then, his eyes snapped open.

There was no transition from sleep to wakefulness. One second he was out, and the next, he was pinning me with a gaze so intense it felt like a physical weight. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch. He just watched me, his pupils blown wide in the dim light.

“You’re late, Katia,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that sent a shiver straight down my spine.

“It’s two in the morning, Julian. I’m actually quite early for a “notary emergency,” I countered, stepping back to put some distance between us. I needed the air. I needed to remember why I was here. “Where are the papers?”

He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face, the movement pulling the fabric of his shirt tight across his chest. “On the desk. Sign them and leave. I have a board meeting at seven.”

I walked over to the desk, my hands trembling slightly as I picked up the pen. The documents were standard and boring, even. There was no emergency here, just a demand for my presence. I signed my name in sharp, jagged strokes, the ink bleeding into the heavy bond paper.

“Why am I really here, Julian?” I asked, not looking at him. “You didn’t bring me across the bridge at this hour for a signature.”

I heard him stand, the rustle of his clothes a loud sound in the quiet room. He walked toward me, stopping just behind my chair. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of his expensive cologne mixed with something darker, something more primal.

“I wanted to see if you’d show up,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against the back of my neck. “I wanted to see if the woman who ‘drove into the river‘ was the same woman who walks into my office with her head held high.”

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I turned around, the chair spinning to face him. He was leaning agaitist the desk, his arms crossed, watching me with a terrifyingly focused intensity. “I’m a professional, Julian. I don’t let ‘technical difficulties‘ get in the way of my business obligations.”

“Is that what you call it? A technical difficulty?” He reached out, his hand finding a stray lock of my hair, tucking it behind my ear with a touch that was surprisingly gentle. “You’re a liar, Katia. You’re playing a game you can’t win, and you’re doing it because you love the thrill of the edge as much as I do.”

“I’m not playing a game,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, though my heart was hammering against my ribs. “I’m trying to keep my business and my life away from your reach.”

“Nothing is out of my reach,” he growled, leaning in closer until our faces were inches apart. “You think because you can navigate a server or outmaneuver a security team that you’re safe? You’re in my world trow, Katia. And in my world, I get exactly what I want.”

The tension between us was a physical force, a bridge of lightning that threatened to incinerate the both of us. The memory of the office visit earlier that week, the way he had pressed me against the desk, and the way our bodies had fit together in that dry fucking race ran through my mind. I could see the same hunger in his eyes, a dark need that ignored the fact that he was married to my sister.

He didn’t kiss me. The air was thick with everything we weren’t saying. I wanted to push him away, and yet my hands were gripped tight to the edge of the desk, holding me back from reaching for him.

“Sign the rest of the pages,” he said suddenly, his voice turning cold and transactional once more. He pulled back, the warmth vanishing as he restored the wall between us. “My driver will take you home. I don’t want you on the road at this hour.”

“I can take care of myself, Julian,” I said, my voice finally finding its strength.

“I’m sure you think you can,” he replied, walking back toward the sofa to retrieve his tie. “But until the contract and everything that concerns it is finalized, you are a Kensington–Windsor asset. And I don’t like my assets being at risk.”

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