All Chapters of My Accidental Billionaire Husband : Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

~Katia~The legal documents in my lap were a blur of black ink on heavy white paper. I had been staring at the same paragraph about the forensic metadata of Victor’s fabricated filings for fifteen minutes, but the words refused to arrange themselves into anything coherent. My brain was completely occupied by the physical reality of my own body.Every muscle in my back, my hips, and my thighs was aching with a deep, throbbing soreness. I could still feel the phantom pressure of the bedroom wall against my spine from three o'clock this morning. I could still hear Julian’s voice, low and vicious, whispering against my ear after he had completely spent himself inside me: Never ever in your fucking life disrespect me because I will destroy that little cunt of yours.He had meant it. The bruises forming on my hips where his hands had pinned me were proof of it. I had spent the entire morning in court trying to sit straight in my grey suit, trying not to wince every time I had to shift my we

⚠️ CONTENT WARNING ⚠️This chapter contains themes of attempted murder, violence, death, psychological distress, trauma responses, and graphic descriptions of a fatal fall. Reader discretion is advised.Please take care while reading.Katia stood on the gravel-strewn rooftop of the IG Technologies building in Brooklyn, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her grey wool coat. The wind at twenty stories up was direct and biting, carrying the sharp scent of exhaust and cold river air from the East River. Below, the streets were a loud, continuous grind of yellow cabs, delivery trucks, and the distant thud of construction, while across the water, the Manhattan skyline rose like a giant, glittering wall. It was the noise she had spent six years learning to use as a shield to block out the quiet moments when her mind wanted to drift back to Las Vegas, to her family, or to Julian.Yesterday, she had won. The courtroom was behind her. Victor Hale’s eighteen-month siege on her life’s work

~Katia~The bench was cold.It was a flat, solid slab of stainless steel bolted directly into the concrete wall of the holding cell. The air in the small space smelled heavily of industrial bleach, old sweat, and the damp, musty odor of wet wool. I sat with my hands clasped tightly in my lap, my knuckles white, staring at the grey steel bars in front of me. I didn't move.I didn't want to shift my weight because every muscle in my body protested. My thighs and my hips were still deeply sore from the way Julian had pinned me against the wall of my penthouse at three in the morning, his weight heavy and punishing as he claimed me. Now, that soreness was a dull, throbbing ache aggravated by the freezing metal of the bench.I had never thought I would be behind bars. Not for a corporate dispute, not for a traffic violation, and certainly not for murder. The weight of the heavy metal handcuffs on my wrists earlier had left a deep, red ring in my skin, but the mental shock was worse. I was

~Delia~She was in a cage.The thought was a warm, sweet hum in my blood. For eighteen months, Katia had been a shadow over my life, a constant, irritating presence that drew my husband's attention away from where it belonged. But today, the law had finally caught up with her. The pristine, untouchable CEO of IG Technologies had been dragged out of the Windsor estate in handcuffs, wearing the shame of a murder charge. Even if she wasn't sleeping with Julian—even if the physical proof of their betrayal hadn't yet landed in my lap—the simple fact that she was locked behind steel bars was enough to make me breathe again.Finally, I had him to myself.With Katia out of the picture, the playing field was clear. I didn't care if Julian was cold to me. I didn't care if he had spent months treating me like a ghost in my own home. I was his wife, and tonight, I was going to remind him of exactly what that meant. I was willing to take things slow, to dismantle his defenses layer by layer, start

~Katia~The Brooklyn Grand Prix exhibition had been in the calendar for six months.IG Technologies was a headline sponsor—Sam had negotiated the deal before the Victor situation exploded, and I had not cancelled it because cancelling would have looked like weakness, and I did not do weakness, not publicly, not where the press could see it. So I was here in a black dress and heels at an event that smelled of engine oil and champagne and the excitement of a city that had decided for one weekend that Brooklyn was the center of the motorsport world.The venue was a converted warehouse on the waterfront. Exhibition cars on raised platforms and GT machines and Formula prototypes gleaming under lights that had been designed to make everything look like it was already going two hundred miles per hour. The kind of event where the racing world and the money world tried very hard to look like they belonged together.They did not always succeed.I had arrived with Sam and immediately been separa