Claimed by Three Billionaires

Chapter 11 — Julian’s POV

There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep Selene by my side.

I had understood it many times before, but last night it became almost a revelation.

Sharing her had never been part of my plans. I am not a man who shares what he considers his. I was raised to possess, to make decisions, to stand at the top of the food chain. And yet, last night I understood something that changed everything: convincing her to stay with me forever would be far easier if Grayson became part of what we were.

I knew saying it out loud would be a scandal. To society’s eyes, it would sound aberrant—an unforgivable eccentricity. But I have always been above that society. Even above those who pretend to rule at the very top of the upper class. Those who play at being gods without having the courage to bear the consequences.

I do.

With Ethan, however, the situation was far more complicated.

Grayson has always known how to move in the shadows. We’ve spent years in that silent game: he yields in what matters publicly, and I maintain the balance. I can easily imagine him agreeing to remain in the background while Selene and I marry, while the official photographs portray us as the perfect couple, with Theo as our son. I have no doubt Grayson would sacrifice his place onstage if that ensured him a place in Selene’s life…

But Ethan… Ethan is not a man who settles. He never has been.

Still, I was convinced that if I spoke to him, I could make him see the obvious: if Selene became my wife, there would be room for all three of us in her life.

Room to protect her.

To cherish her.

To love her.

“Are you okay?” Selene asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I blinked, returning my mind to the dining room. Theo was babbling in his chair, hitting the table with one hand while holding a toy with the other. Everything seemed normal.

Nothing revealed the kind of decisions I was making.

“Julian,” Selene insisted, tilting her head slightly. “You’re very quiet.”

I looked at her. She had that way of looking at me that would disarm any man—direct, attentive, as if she truly cared about the answer. She caught me in the middle of a thought I wasn’t willing to confess, so I did what I do best: I masked it.

I smiled, allowing myself that softness in front of her. Lately I had been more open with my affection, even in front of the staff. At first it bothered me that the employees saw us like that—my hand over hers, Theo laughing every morning. Then I understood it benefited me. That everyone should witness the obvious: Selene was mine.

And that afternoon, before Nathan arrived, I planned to make it very clear that Selene was destined to become my wife.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she repeated, still watching me closely.

Her insistence might have irritated any other man accustomed to obedience, but in me it provoked something else. It reminded me that with me she was different. She didn’t fear me. Not completely.

“Yes, my love. I am,” I said, bringing the coffee cup to my lips more out of habit than need. “Nathan will come tonight, as I told you. Maybe you’d like to choose dinner; the chef can prepare whatever you want.”

Her expression changed instantly. Selene smiled—radiant—with that light that refused to dim despite everything she had lived through. I knew she wanted to see him. He was her last living relative. Of course she wanted to feel supported. Anyone would cling to the little that remains of their old world.

And I… I wanted him to speak with her, hand her to me at the altar, and then never come near her again.

“I’ll think of something,” she replied, still smiling.

Theo began babbling again, as if he felt his mother’s excitement. He reached out to her, seeking her attention, and Selene gave it to him without hesitation. She adjusted him in his seat, straightened his shirt, spoke softly to him. I watched for a few seconds, enjoying the moment.

Then I said:

“I know this might be a delicate topic…” I paused, measuring each word carefully, “but perhaps we should start looking for a nanny. Don’t you think?”

Selene didn’t answer right away.

“I don’t think so,” she said at last. “I can take care of him perfectly well on my own.”

There it was. Her need to prove she could do everything. Admirable, yes. Also dangerous. A woman who insists on carrying the entire world on her shoulders takes longer to accept she needs help.

“Maybe someone you feel comfortable with,” I insisted, keeping my tone soft. “Later on, at least.”

This wasn’t the time to pressure her, and I had no intention of separating her from Theo.

“Maybe later. When he’s a little older,” she replied.

I smiled. That small concession was enough for now. I knew she wouldn’t relinquish control easily, but I worried she wouldn’t give herself any time. And more importantly, I worried she didn’t understand that a life with me required yielding in certain things.

I took another sip of coffee.

“Hey, Julian…” she began. “I’d like to go to the shelter.”

The word landed between us with more weight than she seemed to realize. That damned shelter. Why did she want to go there?

My fingers tensed around the cup, though my face remained perfectly composed. That part was easy for me; I’ve spent years perfecting that control. But Selene must have noticed the shift in my posture, because she smiled quickly, almost as if trying to get ahead of my refusal.

“I won’t stay long,” she added quickly. “But I made a friend there and, even if you don’t like it, I’d like to talk to her. She helped me before Nathan sent you…”

“It’s important,” she added softly.

Yes. I definitely needed to work on not letting her tear down all my barriers so easily. I couldn’t allow a brush of her fingers to decide for me—and yet, that was exactly what was happening.

I took a breath before I answered.

“All right,” I conceded at last, “but let the driver take you after he drops me off at the office. And only for a short while.”

Her eyes lit up. Selene smiled like a child finally getting her way.

And meanwhile, all I could think was:

No matter the cost, Selene will always be mine.