Chapter 357

[ 1,245 words ]

Julian’s POV

I sat at my desk staring at a stack of merger documents that felt like dead weight. My head still throbbed from the conversation with Zane earlier. The frustration of Katia leaving me with a hard dick and no release was still buzzing under my skin. Every time I tried to focus on the numbers, my mind went straight back to the Aman suite. Back to how her pussy felt. Back to the way she used me, came twice, and then walked out like I was nothing. She had treated me like a toy she could play with and discard. It was humiliating as fuck, yet it was the only thing I could think about.

The door to my office slammed open hard, banging against the wall. I did not even need to look up to know who it was. The strong smell of her heavy perfume hit me first, thick and annoying. Delia marched in like she owned the place, her heels loud on the floor. Zane, who had been sitting across from me talking about our next move, stopped talking. He looked at her, then at me with a face that said both pity and amusement. It was the look of a man watching a train wreck happen right in front of him.

“I guess I will come back to finish our meeting,” Zane said smoothly, his tone laced with a dry, knowing irony. He rose from his chair, offered Delia a curt, mocking nod, and slipped out of the office, closing the door behind him with a soft, deliberate click.

Delia did not wait for an invitation. She dropped into the chair Zane had just left, her face red and full of wild energy. She looked desperate for me to tell her everything was going to be okay, but I had nothing left to give her. “Julian, why are you letting Katia do whatever she wants? That is our house! We have rights there, we have a life there, and you are just sitting here letting her treat us like dirt p>

My blood pressure shot up instantly. The little patience I had left after the last twenty-four hours disappeared completely. Katia had left me with blue balls and a fucked-up head, and now her pathetic sister was in my office ranting like a desperate bitch in heat, demanding rights to a life that had never been real. The audacity almost made me laugh. Almost. Instead, I looked at her with ice in my eyes, the kind of look that made grown men piss themselves in boardrooms.

“When did my things become ’ours,’ Delia?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous. “And why the fuck are you in my office without calling first? Do you want your sister to burn me alive? Because that is exactly where this is heading. She is in a mood that would make a hurricane look like a gentle breeze. Keep pushing this narrative; you will not just lose the house. You will lose everything p>

Delia scoffed and leaned forward, her eyes wide and crazy. She looked like a woman hanging off a cliff with only her fingernails. “I am your wife! You let Katia kick us out of our house, and you did not say a single word! You just stood there and let her humiliate us! She is a monster, and you are just letting her rule over you like a slave p>

I stared at her, genuinely baffled by the depth of her denial. It was like watching someone try to argue that the sky was neon green. “Which delusion is this one? Delia, you have never been my wife. You and I had an arrangement, a contract, that you would play the part for the family. I told you from the very first day that I was already married. When you say ’our,’ you are confusing me, because there was never a ’me and you.’ I never deceived you. I was perfectly transparent from the start. Now, it is time you stop dropping the act of being my wife and go back to your father’s house. Your tenure in this fantasy is over. I am not the man you think you have a claim on p>

Delia shot up from the chair, her hands shaking as she gripped the edge of my desk. She looked like she was about to lose it completely. “What? Just like that? I am your wife! I am Mrs. Windsor!” she barked, her voice cracking with rage and fear. She still could not understand that the contract was dead.

I looked at her, really looked at her, and felt nothing but cold emptiness. Compared to Katia, the way she looked, the way she demanded everything, and the way she owned every room she walked into, Delia was nothing but a weak shadow. I was already pissed off because I was still dealing with a hard-on that would not go away and was starting to hurt. If Katia walked in right now and saw Delia here crying about a marriage that was never real, everything would explode. I did not need that shit. I needed to focus on getting my house back, getting my wife back, and getting my pride back. I needed a clear path so I could find my way back to the only woman who actually had the right to call me hers.

“Listen,” I said, my voice vibrating with a restraint that felt like it was hanging by a thread. “I will not raise my voice at you for reasons best known to me, but I want you to wake up from your dreams because you seem to be living in them. I am not your husband. You signed an agreement, and I was transparent with you from the start. So, get lost. Stop this before you become an even bigger embarrassment to yourself p>

“I am not going anywhere!” she shrieked, her face twisting into a mask of pure obsession. “I am your wife, and that is final! You can’t just throw me away because she decided to play games. I have invested time, effort, and my entire reputation into this life p>

I didn’t move. I didn’t yell. I just watched her, analyzing the sheer insanity of her fixation. It was fascinating, in a clinical sort of way. “When did your obsession with me start?” I asked, my voice calm, almost conversational. It was a question I needed the answer to, if only to understand how deeply the rot had set in.

“I am not obsessed!” Delia yelled, her voice echoing off the ceiling. She was unraveling, the veneer of the sophisticated woman she tried to project crumbling into shards of desperate, needy energy.

“If that’s the case, get lost!” I barked.

My words hit her like a slap. She stumbled back, her heels catching on the rug, almost falling before she caught herself. She stared at me with wide, shocked eyes. She finally understood that the man she thought she could control was gone. I sat back and pinned her with my glare. The room went dead silent except for her ragged breathing. I had no patience left for her bullshit. My only goal was to get my wife back. I was done playing house. I was ready for war. I watched her, waiting for the truth to sink in. She did not belong here, and it was time she learned she had already lost.

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