The Billionaire Heir Called It a Romantic Mountain Trip Until My Psychic Grandmother Told Me to Ask Why His Cabin Was Booked for Three

I stood frozen in the center of the rustic living room, the weight of the cabin pressing down on me like lead.

Julian dropped our bags by the door and walked casually over to Victoria, taking the crystal glass from her hand with an easy, familiar intimacy. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

My stomach violently revolted.

“Traffic wasn't bad at all, Vick,” Julian said smoothly, turning back to look at me with eyes completely devoid of warmth. He didn't look guilty. He looked triumphant. Like a predator who had finally cornered its prey in a cul-de-sac.

“So,” I said, my voice unnaturally steady, cutting through the crackle of the wood stove that Julian hadn't yet lit. “This is the third person.”

Victoria took a slow sip of her scotch, leaning her hip against the granite kitchen island. She looked at me not with hatred, but with a chilling, clinical indifference—the way an accountant looks at an outdated spreadsheet that needs to be deleted.

“Hello, Khloe,” Victoria said, her tone dripping with condescension. “I’m glad Julian finally decided to bring you up to speed. Though, to be honest, you were always the missing piece of the administrative puzzle.”

“Administrative puzzle,” I repeated, testing the words on my tongue.

I looked at Julian. All the late nights at the office, all the mysterious phone calls, the locked screens, the sudden coldness—it wasn't just a standard affair. It was a corporate merger.

“Tell her, Julian,” I whispered, keeping my hand buried deep in my coat pocket, my fingers tightly gripping Grandma Eleanor’s river stone. “Tell your wife why you brought me out here to the middle of nowhere with your corporate partner.”

Julian sighed, running a hand through his dark hair with an air of profound exhaustion, as if I were the unreasonable one in this scenario.

“Khloe, be rational,” Julian said, taking a step toward me. “Sterling Freight is going public next quarter. My father’s board requires stability. They require a family man with an unblemished personal life. But my father also expects me to align with the Vance family holdings. Marrying Victoria on paper solidifies the entire northeastern shipping monopoly.”

“You’re already married to me,” I said, my voice dropping an octave.

“A civil contract easily dissolved,” Victoria chimed in smoothly, walking out from behind the counter. She pulled a manila folder from the sleek leather briefcase resting on the dining table. She opened it and slid a stack of papers across the wood surface toward me.

“Divorce papers,” Victoria explained. “Accompanied by a comprehensive non-disclosure agreement and a financial settlement that will ensure you never have to work another day in your accounting firm. Sign them, Khloe, and we can all walk away civilized.”

I stared at the papers.

Then I looked back up at Julian.

“And if I don't sign?” I asked.