Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 343

Chapter 343

Alexandra’s arrest sent a shockwave through the ballroom. Guests clustered into small groups to dissect the drama that had just unfolded before their eyes. But the truth was, after the initial shock, Nate and I didn’t want to think about Alexandra or her schemes ever again. She’d already stolen far too much energy from our lives.

Instead, we chose to turn the rest of the night into a true celebration.

We danced until our feet ached. We laughed, toasted, and let ourselves have fun in a way we hadn’t in months. T. ense of freedom was almost tangible, like a massive weight had finally been lifted off our shoulders, letting us breathe without constantly waiting for the next attack.

Our family and friends joined in naturally. Zoey and Christian looked years younger, laughing and dancing like lovestruck teenagers. Matthew became the life of the party, telling outrageous stories the way only he could. Oliver and Sarah, who had come all the way from Bath for the event, were glowing, soaking up every second of the London night.

Even Tori who was usually more reserved at social events, was dancing with Marcus, laughing in a way I’d never seen before. There was something incredibly liberating about knowing we could finally have family gatherings without worrying about sabotage or manipulation.

Gwen took on the role of unofficial photographer, capturing candid moments of joy we already knew we’d want to remember forever. It felt like we’d all sílently agreed this was a celebration of freedom, our victory over someone who had tried to tear our happiness apart.

The hours flew by without us noticing. Lively conversations blended with music, laughter echoed through the room, and bottles of wine were opened one after another to toast every new joke or shared story. It was one of those rare, magical nights that happen when people who genuinely love each other come together to celebrate something real.

When I finally glanced at the clock, it was almost four in the morning. The ballroom was nearly empty now, with only our table still buzzing and a few hotel staff discreetly tidying up around us.

“I think it’s time to head home,” Nate said, slipping an arm around my waist. “Before the hotel starts charging us an extra night.”

“Are you heading back to Bath tonight?” I asked Oliver and Sarah, who looked just as exhausted as we did.

“Actually,” Oliver said with a yawn, “I was hoping either you or Tori might offer the guest room. I’m way too tired to drive back to Bath now.”

“Of course!” I said immediately. “Our home is your home.”

We left the hotel as a loud, happy group. The cold London air was refreshing after hours inside the ballroom, and a deep sense of peace settled over me as we walked toward the cars.

On the drive home, Nate kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other laced with mine.

“I’ll never forget Alexandra’s face when that officer showed his badge,” he said. “It was like watching a cartoon villain fall straight into their own trap.”

“Poetic justice,” I agreed, squeezing his hand. “She finally got what she deserved.”

1/3

When we arrived home, that familiar, comforting feeling washed over me. Our house in Notting Hill had never looked so inviting, the exterior lights casting a warm, welcoming glow.

“Ginger!” I called the moment Nate opened the front door, my voice echoing through the entryway. “Mom and Dad are home!”

I expected to hear the familiar sound of paws racing toward us, followed by the excited barking that always greeted us whenever we came home. Instead, I was met with an eerie silence that instantly set my nerves on edre.

“Ginger?” I called again, louder this time, my voice edged with anxiety. “Where are you, baby?”

“She’s probably asleep,” Nate said, hanging his coat on the rack. “It’s four in the morning. Even dogs need to sleep.”

But something about the stillness of the house felt wrong. Ginger had never failed to greet us at the door. Morning, afternoon, or the middle of the night, she always came running, tail wagging like we were the most important people in the world.

“Ginger!” I shouted, panic rising as I rushed toward the living room.

I found her on the couch… and the sight stopped my heart.

Our usually vibrant, energetic golden retriever was lying in an odd position, her head slumped unnaturally to the side. When she heard my voice, she tried to lift her muzzle to respond, but she could barely hold it up for more than a second before it fell again, as if she didn’t have the strength.

“Ginger!” I screamed, running to her, my heart pounding wildly.

Oliver, who had come in right behind us, instantly switched into veterinarian mode when he heard my cry. He moved past me quickly, dropping to his knees beside the couch and examining Ginger with practiced, steady hands.

“What happened to her?” I asked, my voice breaking as I watched him check her pupils, feel her pulse, assess her breathing.

That’s when Oliver noticed something on the floor near the couch. Carefully, he picked up the remains of an opened package of expensive chocolate, pieces scattered across the rug.

“It’s chocolate,” Oliver said, his tone grim and professional. “Pure poison for dogs.”

“Chocolate?” I cried, confused and desperate. “Where did that come from? I would never leave chocolate where she could reach it!”

Nate crouched down and picked up a small card that had fallen near the wrapper. He read it out loud, his voice tightening with every word, “‘Congratulations on the engagement, little sister. Brought your favorites from Verdania. With love, Zoey.’

“Zoey?” I said immediately, my mind spinning. “That makes no sense. Zoey gave me everything she brought from Verdania earlier. She would never leave chocolate here, especially knowing about Ginger.”

While Oliver continued examining our dog with Sarah’s help, Nate rushed to the office where we kept the home security system.

2/3

I could hear frantic typing as he pulled up the footage from the indoor cameras we’d installed after a few security issues in the neighborhood. When he came back into the living room a few minutes later, his expression was a terrifying mix of fury and cold determination.

“Alexandra,” he said, his voice controlled but blazing with anger. “She’s the one who left the chocolate here. Sometime shortly after we left

to or the event.”

“We need to get Ginger to an emergency vet clinic. Now!” Oliver said urgently, cutting through everything else. Every minute counts in cases of chocolate poisoning.”

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