Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 188

Chapter 188

Christian’s POV

The Kensington office in Serene Port was buzzing with its usual weekday intensity when my phone lit up with Zoey’s name. I was in the middle of a meeting with our regional directors, discussing export strategies for the next quarter, but the second I saw her name on the screen, I stopped everything.

The moment she told me Richard had vanished, a familiar tension coiled in my chest. It was the same instinct that kicked in during high-stakes negotiations-the sharp awareness that something was off, that danger was close.

“Gentlemen, let’s take a fifteen-minute break,” I announced, cutting off the presentation mid-slide. Ignoring their puzzled looks, I left the room, already dialing Richard’s number.

Straight to voicemail.

I tried again. Same result.

In five years working for our family, Richard had never failed to answer a call from me, especially while on duty with Zoey.

My mind went into overdrive, mapping possibilities. Richard was ex-military, disciplined, and sharp. He wasn’t the kind of man who just disappeared. If he wasn’t answering, something had happened to him.

“I need you to track Richard’s location immediately,” I said to my head of security, skipping the pleasantries.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Kensington?”

“I hope not,” I replied tightly. “But Richard’s not responding, and my wife and son were at the hospital with him. He’s vanished.”

When Zoey insisted on coming home with Kenny, every instinct in me screamed to shut it down, to demand she stay put. But she was right about one thing, that Kenny had been with us for years. He was trustworthy, reliable, and knew our routes by heart. And it was broad daylight, along a road we drove almost daily.

Even so, something in me felt wrong. Like I’d just made a terrible mistake.

I tried to refocus on the meeting, but my mind was already miles away. The directors were talking numbers and logistics, and all I could see was that stretch of road between the hospital and home, where Zoey and Matt were supposed to be safe.

I glanced at my watch. By now, she should’ve been home. Any minute now, she’d call to say everything was fine.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen.

Nothing.

“Excuse me,” I cut in, interrupting a presentation about soil analysis. “I’ll need a few minutes.”

I called home. Carmen, our housekeeper, picked up.

“Hi, Carmen. Has Zoey arrived?”

“No, sir. Not yet. Is something wrong?”

My stomach twisted hard.

“No, it’s fine. Just… have her call me as soon as she gets in.”

I hung up and called Zoey. Straight to voicemail. Tried again. Same thing.

The panic hit then. Zoey never ignored my calls. Not when I was worried. And she’d promised to call as soon as she got home.

“Gentlemen,” I said, standing abruptly. “We’ll have to reschedule this meeting. I have a family emergency.”

I gathered my papers, already signaling my assistant to prepare the jet, when my phone rang again. Unknown number.

It was a photo of Zoey, terrified, clutching Matt tightly to her chest. They were in what looked like a warehouse or storage building. She sat on a chair, her wide eyes filled with panic. Matt was crying, his tiny face red and scrunched in distress.

The sight hit me like a physical blow. Seeing the woman I loved and my son in danger because of him was a kind of pain I hadn’t known existed.

“You’re a monster,” I whispered into the phone.

“I’m a desperate man,” Lawrence replied coolly. “And desperate men do desperate things. But like I said, no one needs to get hurt. Not if you do exactly what I tell you.”

“What do you want?” I asked, though I already knew I’d agree to anything if it meant keeping Zoey and Matt safe.

“First, go to the mansion and retrieve my documents. They’re in the office safe. I’m sending you the combination. I especially need my passport.”

“Fine,” I said immediately. “What else?”

“The company jet. I want it ready for an international flight, full crew, no questions asked. And don’t even think about contacting the authorities.”

That would be harder, but not impossible. The jet was always on standby for last-minute business trips.

“It can be done,” I said tightly. “What else?”

“A transfer. I’ll send the account details and the amount.”

Another vibration. I checked the message, and froze. The sum he wanted was staggering, but accessible if I liquidated a few company assets.

“Lawrence, please,” I said, trying to appeal to whatever humanity he might still possess. “Why are you doing this? We’re family. Zoey has nothing to do with this. Matt is your grandson.”

“Things have gone too far, Christian,” he said, his tone hardening. “I’m not going to prison. I won’t rot in a cell for mistakes that were… misunderstood.”