Chapter 402

[ 1,010 words ]

Katia’s POV

In the bedroom he set me on the edge of the bed and stripped the rest of my clothes off with careful hands. He disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a warm cloth. He cleaned me himself, eyes dark the entire time, like the act was another form of claiming. When he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and stripped out of his own clothes.

He climbed onto the bed and pulled me against his chest. My leg slid over his hip. I could still feel him between my thighs, the ache he had left behind. It felt good. Real.

“She called him a bastard again,” I said into his skin.

Julian’s arm tightened around me.

“I know p>

“She stood in that house and tried to make me the villain in front of my father p>

“I know that too p>

I lifted my head so I could see his face.

“What are you going to do p>

His eyes met mine. There was no softness there. Only decision.

“I’m going to take everything she has left,” he said. “The name she still tries to use. The access she thinks she has. The attention she feeds on. I’m going to make sure the only thing the city remembers about Delia Kensington is that she put her hands on my son and paid for it p>

The words should have scared me. They did not. They settled something restless under my ribs.

I kissed him once, slow.

“Good p>

He rolled me under him again. This time the kiss was deeper. His cock hardened against my thigh. I reached down and wrapped my hand around him, stroking once. He made a low sound and pushed my legs apart.

“Again?” I asked.

“Again p>

He pushed into me slowly this time, letting me feel every inch. I was still sensitive, and the stretch made me gasp. He held still for a second, forehead against mine, then started to move. Deeper. Harder. The pace built until the bed frame knocked lightly against the wall.

I locked my legs around him and took everything he gave me. His hand slid under my head, holding me in place so he could watch my face while he fucked me. The dominance in the way he held me, the way he moved, and the way he refused to look away made the third orgasm build faster than the first two.

“Julian p>

“I’ve got you p>

I came with my face pressed into his neck, moaning against his skin. He followed a few thrusts later, burying himself deep and holding there while he finished inside me again.

Afterward he stayed on top of me, weight braced on his forearms so he would not crush me. His mouth brushed my temple.

“No more facing them alone,” he said.

“No more p>

“And if she comes near Aiden again p>

“You’ll handle it p>

“I’ll end it p>

I nodded against his shoulder.

He finally rolled to the side and pulled me with him. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. Outside the bedroom door the house was quiet. Aiden was safe. Zane was watching. Julian’s arm stayed locked around me like he had no intention of letting go.

I closed my eyes.

The shaking in my hands was gone.

In its place was something harder. Something ready. We were going to war. And this time we were going together.

Delia’s POV

I needed money and I needed a way back into rooms that had started closing their doors on me.

The headlines had not stopped. Every time I opened my phone, there was another photo of my face, another article calling me the woman who had claimed a marriage that never existed. My father’s house felt like a cage. The few people who still answered my calls spoke carefully around me, like they were afraid my failure might rub off on them.

So when the message came from a man named Adrian Hale requesting a meeting about a private organizational opportunity, I answered.

We met on the forty-second floor of a glass building in Midtown. The office was quiet, all clean lines and expensive silence. Adrian Hale was tall, in his mid-thirties, in a dark suit, and had the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. He slid a black folder across the table toward me.

“Vesper Group is preparing its public launch in New York,” he said. “We need someone who already knows the city’s elite. Someone who can put the right people in the right rooms without being taught how. Your name still opens doors, Miss Kensington. Even now p>

I opened the folder. The contract was clean. High fee that had a strict discretion clause. First project listed in bold at the bottom of the page.

Charity Gala – Official Introduction of the Chief Executive Officer of Vesper Group.

“The CEO remains private until the night of the event,” Adrian continued. “No photographs. No interviews beforehand. Guests will only learn the identity when the CEO chooses to step forward. Your job will be to make that night flawless. Invitation list, venue, seating, media control, everything. This meeting is only for the contract. The work begins after you sign p>

I read the numbers again. The payment would keep me comfortable for months. More importantly, it would put me back in front of the same people who had started looking through me.

I picked up the pen.

Adrian watched me sign each page without speaking. When I finished, he collected the folder, checked the signatures, and nodded once.

“Welcome to Vesper Group, Miss Kensington. There is someone else you need to meet before you leave p>

He stood and opened the door to the adjoining room.

The man who walked in was younger than Adrian. Early thirties at most, he had dark hair. Sharp jaw. Black suit that fit like it had been cut onto his body. He carried no folder, no phone in his hand. He looked at me the way men looked at things they were already measuring.

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