Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 114

Christian’s POV

I watched the ruby liquid swirl in the crystal glass as my grandfather poured one of the rarest wines from the cellar. I could hardly believe he’d opened the last bottle, but then again, it was a special day. The cellar was quiet, broken only by the faint clink of crystal and the gentle glug of wine being poured. The party was still going strong upstairs, but down here, time seemed to move at a different pace.

“A toast to the new official head of Kensington,” Grandpa said, raising his glass with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as if he could see straight through the calm façade I was trying to maintain.

We clinked glasses lightly, and I took a sip, letting the complex flavor spread across my tongue. But I couldn’t really taste it. My mind was elsewhere. With someone else.

“You seem distant for a man who just inherited the kingdom,” Grandpa remarked, settling heavily into the old

leather chair.

I exhaled a short breath, my fingers absently tracing the stem of my glass.

“There’s a lot on my mind,” I admitted at last, letting the polished CEO mask slip a little in his presence.

“The company? Or a certain granddaughter I just gained?” His eyes glimmered with that sharp, knowing light that always made me feel like I was eight years old again-completely transparent before him.

“Both.” I set the glass down on the worn table and ran a hand through my hair. “Zoey told me about your conversation.”

Grandpa nodded slowly, not the least bit surprised.

“I figured she would. She’s an honest woman, your Zoey.”

Your Zoey. The words echoed in my head. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? After I told her I loved her-still breathless from the moment we’d just shared at the overlook-something inside me went cold when she just kissed me instead. No words. No confirmation that she felt the same.

“I told her I love her,” I said, almost against my will.

Grandpa’s brows lifted, but his smile widened.

“And?”

“And nothing.” I shrugged, trying-and failing-to sound indifferent. “She didn’t say anything.”

The silence that followed was filled only by the rhythmic ticking of the old clock on the cellar wall.

“You know,” Grandpa said at last, swirling the wine in his glass and watching the tears form along its rim, some wines take time to reveal their true nature. The best ones always do.”

I rolled my eyes, though a faint smile tugged at my lips.

“Grandpa, not everything in life is about wine.”

“On the contrary, my boy. Everything in life is about wine.” The old Italian laughed softly, his eyes bright with amusement. “A few years ago, you would’ve dismissed this wine after the first sip-too impatient to let it breathe, to let it show you what it really was.”

I could see where he was going with this, and a dull ache settled in my chest.

“Zoey isn’t a wine for me to taste and judge,” I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended.

“Of course not. She’s far more precious than that.” Grandpa took another slow sip, savoring it before continuing. “What I’m saying is that some people need time. Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve, especially those who’ve been hurt before.”

The words hit me like an arrow straight to the heart. Alex and Elise’s betrayal had left deep scars on Zoey-just as Francesca had left them on me.

“You disappeared,” she said softly, without accusation.

“I was talking to Grandpa,” I murmured, resting my chin on the top of her head as we both gazed out at the night. I didn’t tell her what we’d talked about. I didn’t have to.

I felt Zoey relax against my chest, her hands sliding over mine where they rested on her waist.

“The stars look different here than in Solara,” she said, her voice blending perfectly with the quiet of the night.

“Brighter?”

“More… defined. Like each one knows exactly where it belongs in the universe,”

I kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent that had become home to me.

“Then I envy them,” I said quietly.

Zoey turned in my arms, meeting my eyes with a gaze that stripped away every defense, every mask I’d ever built. Without a word, she rose on her toes and kissed me-a slow, deep kiss that said more than any declaration ever could.

“Thank you for bringing me to your home, Christian,” she whispered.

I understood what she didn’t say. “Thank you for bringing me into your life. Into your family. Into your world.”

“Thank you for staying,” I replied simply, pulling her closer.

Under that endless sky, with the distant hum of the fading party behind us, neither of us needed words to express what we felt. The silence between us had never been so full of meaning.