Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 153

Chapter 153

Christian’s POV

With Zoey entering her twenty-fourth week-halfway through the sixth month-and under strict medical orders to avoid any stress, I’d decided to keep her as far away from our investigations as possible. Honestly, she scarcely seemed to miss it. She was completely absorbed in preparing the launch of our new organic line, which we had named Vintara, a name that captured both our family tradition and our sustainable innovation.

Watching Zoey lead her PR team was like watching an artist at work. She had pulled together an exceptional group of professionals who worked tirelessly, crafting concepts that balanced fresh, modern energy with Kensington’s long-held traditions. Her ideas were bright and wildly creative.

“Christian, imagine this,” she said over breakfast, eyes shining with excitement. “We’ll recreate the grape-stomping experience we had in Valentia. Influencers will get to stomp the grapes, feel their connection to the land and the ancestral process.”

She gestured enthusiastically as she spoke, her passion contagious

“We’ll have creative tastings, unexpected pairings, storytelling about our family’s origins,” she added, touching the little bump that already made our future obvious. “I want people to feel like they’re not just buying wine, but connecting with a real, authentic story.”

I loved seeing her like this. Happy, fulfilled, using all her creativity and professional skill for something that truly mattered to our family. This was exactly where she needed to be, focused on positive, constructive things, far from stress and negativity.

But on the other side of my day, I had much darker, far less pleasant matters to settle.

That is why, on a Thursday morning, I boarded the jet to Solara Bay with a folder full of every piece of evidence we had painstakingly gathered against Edward and Sunvale. It was time to end this farce once and for all.

Edward’s office sat in a modern business building in Copacabana. walked in without ceremony, passed the receptionist who tried to stop me, and found Edward on the phone, waving his hands nervously at whoever was on the other end.

When he saw me, his face went ashen. He cut the call, straightened, and tried to regain his composure.

“Christian,” he said, forcing a weak smile. “What a surprise. What brings you to Solara?”

I didn’t answer. I set the folder on his desk and opened it, spreading documents, photos, and detailed lab reports across the surface. Edward stared at the evidence with growing horror.

“Lab reports proving the use of synthetic fertilizers,” I began calmly, pointing at the papers. “Your emails admitting the fraud. Forged documents used for organic certification. Soil samples taken directly from your vineyards.”

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