Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121

Christian’s POV

I heard Zoey’s footsteps coming toward the kitchen, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the wooden box sitting in the pantry-its lid sealed, an envelope pinned neatly to the top.

“What’s wrong?” Zoey’s voice came from behind me, tight, uneasy.

I grabbed the box and set it on the counter, yanking the envelope off with more force than I meant to.

“You want to tell me what this is doing here?” My voice came out harder than I’d intended.

“Christian…” she started, but I was already opening the envelope.

Inside was a card, the gold lettering gleaming under the kitchen light like a verdict being handed down.

[To our most valued collaborator,

A small token of appreciation for all your contributions. Your role has been essential.

Edward Mendez,

Director – Sunvale Winery.]

The blood drained from my face. I read the words twice, then a third time, as if repetition might make them mean something else.

“”Most valued collaborator’?” I read aloud, my voice dangerously low. “”Contributions’? ‘Essential role’?”

I lifted my gaze to Zoey. She had taken a step back, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

“What is he talking about, Zoey?”

“I… I don’t know,” she said, but there was hesitation in her voice-a crack I hadn’t heard before.

“You don’t know?” I turned back to the box, realizing it was still sealed. “Then let’s find out together, shall we?”

I opened it slowly. Inside, six bottles lay nestled in straw. When I saw the labels, the air seemed to leave the room.

TerraVine – Sunvale Winery.

My project. Every detail-the branding, the marketing concept, even the typography-was mine. It was ours. And now it sat on my kitchen counter wearing another company’s logo.

“They actually did it,” I muttered, my hands shaking as I picked up one of the bottles.

“Christian, I can explain-”

“Can you?” I turned toward her, holding up the bottle like evidence in a trial. “Because I would love to hear an explanation for why you have, in your apartment, products created from stolen Kensington data.”

“Edward sent them,” she blurted out. “I had no idea what”

“And that didn’t seem strange to you?” My voice rose, sharper now. “Getting a gift from your former company with a card thanking you for your ‘contributions’?”

She swallowed hard, tears beginning to gather in her eyes.

“I did think it was strange. But I didn’t know what it meant. I still don’t.”

“You don’t know?” I snatched up the card again, my pulse pounding in my ears. “It says right here-‘essential role,’ Zoey. What role? What exactly were you essential to?”

“I don’t know!” Her voice cracked, tears spilling now. “Christian, you’re scaring me. What are you accusing me of?

I stared at her, the weight of betrayal pressing down like a physical blow. I wanted to believe her. God, I needed to believe her. But the evidence sitting on my kitchen counter made that almost impossible.

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