Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 178

Chapter 178

Christian’s POV

The walk back to the dining room was an exercise in self-control that demanded every ounce of strength I had left. Zoey stayed close, her hand tightly clasped in mine, her silent support the only thing keeping me steady. When every curious gaze turned toward us, I managed to force a polite smile.

“Everything alright?” my mother asked, her brow creased in a rare display of genuine concern.

“Perfectly fine,” I said, pulling out Zoey’s chair with automatic courtesy. “She just forgot to take her pain medication.”

The lie rolled off my tongue easily, smooth as truth. Years of boardrooms and high-stakes negotiations had trained me well in the art of emotional camouflage.

Joseph sat at the head of the table, his eyes glowing with that genuine warmth he always radiated when the family was together. My father sat to his right, speaking animatedly with Robert about this year’s grape harvest. The normalcy of it all felt surreal, like a photograph of a moment that no longer existed.

“How are you feeling, dear?” Regina asked kindly, leaning toward Zoey. “It must be hard being away from Matt.”

“It’s very hard,” Zoey said softly, her honesty ringing through every word. “But the doctors say he’s doing well. We’ll be able to bring him home soon.”

The conversation flowed toward safer, lighter topics. Annie told funny stories about her latest projects, earning a round of laughter. Marcus cracked jokes that had even my mother smiling. Matthew argued football with Joseph, their voices rising good-naturedly over the odds of Gremora FC’s next match.

Carmen had truly outdone herself with dinner. The shrimp risotto was flawless, the wine paired beautifully, and the dessert waiting in the kitchen promised to be just as perfect. Everything was warm, elegant, familiar.

But I couldn’t stop watching my father. My mind analyzed and dissected every movement, every word, and every subtle gesture. How could he sit there, chatting about trivial things, knowing what he’d done?

“Christian,” Joseph said, pulling me back to the present. “You’re very quiet tonight. Business troubles?”

“Nothing that can’t be handled,” I replied automatically, forcing another thin smile.

“Excellent,” my father cut in, raising his glass in a spontaneous toast. “Then let’s drink to Zoey’s full recovery- and to little Matt, who’s already proving himself a true Kensington warrior.”

Everyone lifted their glasses, smiles glowing around the table. Lawrence’s voice carried a warm, practiced sincerity.

“I’m just so relieved you’re both alright,” he said, looking straight at Zoey. “When I heard about the accident, I was terrified that I might lose my daughter-in-law and my grandson before I even had the chance to know them properly,”

Something inside me snapped.

The sheer hypocrisy of his words and the smoothness of his lie burned through me like acid. The way he could look Zoey in the eyes and pretend he’d feared for her life when he’d nearly taken it made my blood turn to ice.

“Is that so?” My voice came out colder than I intended, slicing through the warmth of the room like a blade. “You were really that worried about losing them?”

The silence that followed was instant and absolute. Every side conversation stopped mid-sentence, the air thick with tension. I felt Zoey stiffen beside me, her hand tightening around mine as a silent warning.

“Of course I was,” Lawrence replied, his brow furrowing in what looked like genuine confusion. “Why would you even ask that?”

“I have my wife’s memory,” I said coldly. “And that’s proof enough for me.”

Joseph tried to rise from his chair, his trembling hand gripping the edge of the table. His face twisted—not just with pain, but with heartbreak that cut deeper than anything physical.

“Lawrence,” he said, his voice weak, barely a whisper. “My son… tell me it’s not true. Tell me you didn’t do this to your own family.”

“Father,” Lawrence began, desperation creeping into his tone, “you don’t understand. Things just got out of control-”

It was a confession. Partial, evasive, but a confession nonetheless.

The room erupted into chaos. Annie screamed, demanding answers. Marcus stood, fists clenched, trembling with rage, clearly fighting the urge to lunge across the table. My mother sobbed uncontrollably, repeating “How could you?” over and over, like a broken prayer. Zoey’s parents sat in stunned silence, pale and speechless.

Then Joseph swayed.

“Grandpa!” I shouted, lunging forward just as his knees gave out.

He collapsed into me, his breathing shallow and ragged, his lips turning a frightening shade of blue. In the frantic storm that followed with everyone shouting for an ambulance, scrambling for his heart medication, and trying to help, Lawrence vanished.

When I finally looked around the shattered dining room, gasping for air amid the chaos, his chair was empty.

He had run. Like a coward.