She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 103

(Julian)

I stand near a ridiculous swan carved out of ice and watch the Warrens tear each other apart without opening their mouths.

Chase has his hand clamped flush against Natasha’s spine.

They’re moving to the music, but it looks more like a hostage situation.

Her posture is completely rigid.

His jaw is locked.

The space between them is charged with a hostile gravity that usually ends in property damage.

I take a slow sip of my martini.

I arranged this fireworks display, and the yield is spectacular.

My goal tonight was simple.

Jolt Sonia back into Chase’s visible proximity, let the cameras document it, and watch the Warren Global board panic.

A destabilized Chase is a malleable Chase.

Sonia, bless her, is a blunt instrument. She did exactly what I told her to do.

I glance toward the champagne pyramid.

Sonia’s standing by a marble pillar, strangling a clutch purse, watching Chase dance with his wife.

It’s almost a pity. I handed her the stage, and Chase simply walked right off it.

What I didn’t account for is the sheer, undeniable spark still operating between Chase and Natasha.

I assumed the custody papers and the separate zip codes meant the structural integrity of the marriage was gone.

I was wrong.

They are half in love and half at war.

They look like they want to ruin each other, but Chase is holding her like he’ll break the fingers of anyone else who tries.

Speaking of which.

Jeffrey Bauer is hovering near the edge of the dance floor.

What I did not account for, because I’m occasionally betrayed by my own blind spots, is how much I dislike Jeffrey looking at Natasha.

The man sweats through expensive wool like it’s a marathon.

Earlier, I watched him put his disgusting hand on Natasha’s bare arm.

Natasha does not like him.

That part is obvious to anyone with functioning eyesight.

She’s polite because she’s Natasha and therefore incapable of causing a scene simply for the satisfaction of it.

Every line of her body angles away when he gets too close and Bauer touching her feels like a stain on the evening.

The music tapers off. Chase and Natasha stop moving. They don't let go immediately.

It takes a full three seconds for Chase to finally drop his hand.

Bauer starts moving toward them like a shark with no teeth.

I intercept. I don't want a public screaming match.

They can be entertaining, but not when it may make Natasha look at Chase as some kind of savior for keeping Jeffrey away from her.

I glide smoothly into the gap just as Bauer opens his mouth.

"Jeffrey," I say, handing him a half-empty glass of champagne I just stole from a passing waiter.

"Drink this. You look dehydrated."

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