Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 13

The doorbell rang at eight in the morning on Monday, yanking me out of a sleep that was already restless at best. From the moment Christian had left my house yesterday, my mind hadn't stopped once. The kiss, the deal and the trip all spun in my head like a runaway carousel.

"Zoey!" My mom's voice carried through my bedroom door. "There's a delivery for you!"

I groaned, rolling over in bed. A delivery? I hadn't ordered anything. Unless…

I shot up, a bad feeling crawling down my spine. Pulling a robe over my pajamas, I shuffled into the living room, where my mom was signing a tablet held out by a delivery guy in a spotless uniform.

"What is this?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"Deliveries for Miss Bennett," the man replied formally. "From Mr. Kensington."

And then, like some coordinated invasion, three more delivery men started hauling box after box into my house. Huge boxes, medium ones, shopping bags stamped with logos I'd only ever seen in magazines.

"Oh my God, what is all this?" my mom asked, eyes wide.

"An… engagement gift?" I offered weakly, the lie slipping out as a question.

When all the packages were finally stacked in the living room, the lead delivery man handed me an envelope.

"Mr. Kensington asked that I deliver this to you personally."

My fingers trembled as I took it. As soon as they left, I tore it open to find a simple, elegant card inside.

'The basics to make sure you're comfortable during our stay. Don't worry. I won't take 'no' for an answer. See you tomorrow. – C.'

"Zoey, is your fiancé always like this?" my mom asked, touching one of the boxes like it was sacred.

"Apparently," I muttered, still trying to process the invasion of gifts.

That was when Annabelle shuffled in, still in pajamas, her hair a bird's nest, eyes half-shut. But the second she saw the living room, she woke up like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her.

"What the hell is all this?"

"A new wardrobe, courtesy of my 'fiancé,'" I said, making air quotes when my mom disappeared into the kitchen.

Annabelle stepped closer to one of the bags, lifting it like it was made of crystal.

"This bag is Prada. Freaking Prada!" She looked at me like I'd just won the lottery. "Can I open it?"

I shrugged.

"Go ahead."

I didn't need to say it twice. She tore through packaging with the glee of a kid at Christmas. Dresses, pants, blouses, shoes—all in my exact size, all from brands I'd only ever dreamed of touching.

"This is a Valentino dress!" she gasped, holding up a stunning red piece. "This thing probably costs more than three years of my salary!"

I collapsed onto the couch, watching my sister turn our living room into a war zone of tissue paper and ribbons.

"He's buying me," I muttered.

Annabelle froze, raising an eyebrow.

"What did you just say?"

"He's literally buying me, Annie." I dropped my voice, glancing nervously toward the kitchen. "That's the deal. He clears Dad's debt, and I pretend to be the perfect fiancée."

My sister let the dress slip from her hands and sat down next to me.

"You told him about the debt?"

"No!" I shot back, horrified. "He investigated. He knows everything about our family."

Annabelle let out a low whistle.

"Wow. That's… intense."

"It's terrifying, that's what it is." I buried my face in my hands. "Who even does that? Who investigates a stranger's family?"

"Someone very rich and very determined, apparently." She picked up a pair of sandals from one of the boxes, inspecting them. "If you don't want these, I'll take them. I really do need new shoes."

"Annie!" I stared at her, incredulous. "Are you seriously not grasping the gravity of this situation?"

"Yes, I am," she said, setting the sandals aside and clasping my hands. "You made a deal with a hot billionaire to save our house. He's holding up his end—sending expensive gifts and, from what you told me, paying off Dad's debt. All you have to do is spend a few days pretending to be in love with him."

When she put it like that, it sounded so simple.

"It's not just that. I have to meet his grandfather, impress important people. What if I screw it up? What if they figure out it's all fake?"

Annabelle just smiled, shrugging.

"Then you come home empty-handed, but with Dad's debt cleared, right?"

I bit my lip, thinking.

"It's not funny!"

"It's hilarious!" She wiped away an imaginary tear. "Zoey, let's be real. You're not going to last five days alone with that man. Not even five hours."

"Yes, I will!" I protested. "I told you… It's just business."

"Sure." She grabbed another box, opening it to reveal a lingerie set that looked like it had walked straight off a Victoria's Secret runway. "And this is 'just business' too?"

I snatched the box from her hands, my face going up in flames.

"This is… it's…"

"Proof he's thinking the exact same thing I am." Annie grinned wickedly. "That the two of you won't resist."

I slammed the box shut and shoved it aside.

"You don't get it. He's only doing this because he needs his grandfather to hand him the family business. I'm convenient. Nothing more."

Annabelle's smile softened.

"Zoey, look around you." She gestured to the chaos of boxes spread across the room. "A man doesn't send an entire wardrobe to someone who's just 'convenient.'"

"He's just making sure I won't embarrass him in front of his rich friends."

"If that were all it was, he could've just handed you money and told you to shop. But no. He picked out every piece. He thought about you."

I wanted to argue, but something inside me faltered. Was there truth in her words? Or was it just my stupid heart trying to believe I could mean more to someone like Christian Kensington?

"Whatever." I stood, determined to end the conversation. "I'll start packing all this."

Annabelle lifted the red dress again.

"You are taking this one, right? Please say yes. He's going to lose it when he sees you in it."

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile betrayed me.

"You're impossible."

"And you're screwed." She grinned, pressing the dress into my hands. "Totally, utterly screwed."

And the worst part? Some small part of me knew she was right.