Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 232

Chapter 232

Nathaniel’s POV

After brunch, the house naturally split into groups. The women. Zoey, Annie, and Gwen. Settled on the back patio where they could talk more privately while Matt played on a blanket on the floor. From inside, I could hear their lively chatter, punctuated every now and then by Zoey’s contagious laugh.

“How about a drink?” I asked Christian, nodding toward the bar in the living room. “After a transatlantic flight with a baby, I’m guessing you could use one.”

“God, yes,” he laughed, following me into the quieter part of the house. “I love my kid, but three hours of nonstop crying on a plane is a test of endurance no one should have to face.”

The living room had a different atmosphere from the rest of the house. More masculine, with leather armchairs, shelves packed with books, and a well-stocked bar I barely touched when I was alone. The lighting was softer here so it was better suited for serious conversations.

I poured two fingers of Macallan 18 for both of us. Christian always preferred the classics over anything experimental.

“Cheers,” I said, lifting my glass. “To old friends and new adventures.”

“To parenthood and all the ways it finds to humble us,” Christian replied, taking a sip and letting out a satisfied sigh. “You know, it’s strange how much it changes you. I never thought trading tense negotiations with Niharan shareholders for sleepless nights trying to figure out why a baby is crying could make me this happy.”

“It’s a big shift,” I said, settling into one of the armchairs. “You seem… different. More grounded, maybe.”

“That’s exactly it. Before, everything was about the next goal, the next deal, the next win. Now there’s something more important than any contract I’ll ever sign.”

There was a calmness in him I hadn’t seen in years. Since college, he’d always been driven and sharp. Now he looked like a man who had finally found balance. I envied it more than I cared to admit.

“And you?” he asked, watching me over the rim of his glass. “How are things? Work, life… you know.”

“Work is fine. Busy, but fine. Life…” I hesitated. Christian was the only person I could say certain things to without feeling weak. “I miss when things were less complicated. When choices felt simpler.”

“Complicated how?”

Before I could answer, Marcus wandered into the room with a glass of red wine and the easy, laid-back look of someone who had just stepped off a long flight but was already ready to socialize.

“Hope you’re talking about something interesting,” he said, dropping into the nearest chair. “I just spent two weeks closing contracts in Port City. I need conversations that don’t involve spreadsheets.”

“No work talk,” Christian said. “We’re just discussing how life gets more complicated as we get older.”

“Speak for yourself,” Marcus laughed. “I keep things simple. Work, travel, fun. No complications.”

Matthew showed up in the doorway a few minutes later, greeted us quickly, then announced he missed the girls and preferred joining them on the patio. That left me, Christian, and Marcus alone.

“It’s not sensitive territory,” I lied, trying to soften my tone. “I just think any woman deserves more respect than that.”

“Sure, sure,” Marcus said quickly. But he shot me a curious look. He’d definitely picked up that my reaction wasn’t just generic chivalry.

Christian had watched the whole exchange in silence. I could almost see the gears turning in his head. My recent weird behavior. My too-quick flash of anger over a comment about Annie. The way I’d insisted on hosting this brunch when I usually dumped this kind of thing on someone else.

“Well,” Christian said at last, breaking the heavy moment with a smooth smile. “Speaking of women who deserve respect, I should check if Zoey needs help with Matt. That kid has a talent for turning any civilized

conversation into a war zone.”

The joke worked. The tension eased, and Marcus laughed, relieved for the shift. Christian stood and headed toward the patio. But I stayed where I was, lifting my glass and pretending the whisky held my attention.

My mind was nowhere in the room. It was replaying Annie’s history with Marcus. Thinking about how a careless comment like his might have stuck with her. Was that the kind of shallow judgment that had pushed her to build walls? The thing that made her doubt anyone could ever take her seriously?

A slow, quiet anger rose in my chest. Not just toward Marcus and his narrow view of her. Toward every man who had ever reduced Annie to something so small. She was sharp. Insightful. She saw the world in a way that was entirely her own. She was funny without trying, genuine without being naïve.

How could anyone spend time with Annie Bennett and consider her nothing more than a distraction?