Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 180

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Chapter 180

The morning air was cool as we got into the car to drive to the hospital. Christian had been restless since waking up, his fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel as he maneuvered along the winding country roads. The quiet between us stretched until it finally broke. His thoughts spilled out aloud, as if speaking them might somehow help him make sense of it all.

“I just don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head as he slowed for a sharp curve. “I never thought my father or my uncles cared about the family business at all.”

I adjusted my seatbelt and turned slightly toward him, studying the tense profile of his face, the morning light carving shadows around his eyes.

“Uncle John who is Marcus’s father, hasn’t left his vineyard in Valentia for decades,” he went on, his tone filled with disbelief. “And Uncle Louis, Anthony’s father, has never been interested in anything more than drinking the wine. They always seemed perfectly happy to collect their dividends and live far away from the responsibilities that come with the Kensington name.’

“Apparently your father resented that,” I murmured, watching the rows of grapevines blur past outside the window, their leaves still glittering with morning dew.

Christian gave a bitter, humorless laugh.

“He always preferred spending money to earning it. I remember Grandpa constantly complaining about how Lawrence found new and creative ways to drain company funds for his expensive hobbies and luxury trips.”

I stayed quiet for a few minutes, letting him think, letting him burn through the frustration that radiated off him like heat.

“We’ll only get real answers when we confront him,” I said finally.

Christian exhaled heavily, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know if I can do that again. Last night’s dinner was a disaster. All I did was make everyone sick with the truth, especially my mother and Grandpa. God, if anything happens to him because I lost control…”

“It wasn’t like that,” I said firmly, placing my hand over his. “If you hadn’t organized that dinner, I never would’ve remembered, and we’d still be completely in the dark. At least now we know who we’re up against.”

“And what good does that do?” he shot back, his voice low, edged with despair. “We still don’t have hard proof. It’s just his word against ours.”

I stared at him in disbelief, unable to believe he was forgetting everything we’d uncovered.

“Of course we have proof, Christian. We have the data recovered from Elise’s hard drive. We have the driver who caused your ‘accident.’ We have the footage from that day. All we have to do is take it to the police and let justice do its job.”

“That’s exactly what I don’t want,” he said, jaw tightening. “To wait. To sit around for the next attack, the next attempt to destroy us.”

“There won’t be another attack,” I said with conviction. “They’re cornered now. Lawrence ran last night because he knows he’s finished. Elise is still in the hospital. And Francesca… she’s not the type to act alone. They don’t have the means or the nerve to come after us again–not without exposing themselves completely.”

Christian stayed silent as he parked the car outside the hospital, but I could tell he was still battling that instinctive need to control every outcome.

We walked through the familiar halls toward the neonatal ICU, our footsteps echoing softly across the polished linoleum. The nurse at the reception smiled warmly at us. By now, she knew us well.