Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 346

Chapter 346

Solara in May was exactly how I remembered it. Autumn in the city still brought warm days, but with a softer breeze that made walking around so much more pleasant. The endless blue sky and that vibrant energy only the city could have were still there, untouched. Zoey and I had arrived the night before, and we woke up early to take care of the most important task of the trip: the final fitting of my wedding dress.

The boutique was the same place where Zoey had worked for years before meeting Christian. Immaculate

play windows, mannequins posed like pieces of art, and that unmistakable air of sophistication that had always defined the shop.

“Ready to see how they treat you now?” I asked Zoey, curious to witness the difference.

“This should be interesting,” she replied with a mischievous smile.

The moment we stepped inside, the shift was immediate. The same employees who once saw Zoey as just another coworker were now practically bowing to her. They offered water, champagne, specialty coffees, treating her like royalty. The Kensington last name carried a weight I was still learning to fully grasp.

“How does it feel to be treated like this?” I whispered as we were escorted to a private area of the store, complete with velvet sofas and strategically placed full-length mirrors.

Zoey let out a quiet laugh.

“You know that fantasy where an employee quits in the most dramatic way possible, right in the boss’s face?” she murmured back. “It’s exactly that. Only better.”

I couldn’t help laughing. Zoey had been worked to the bone in that place, so champagne was the bare minimum she deserved in return.

We were there for the final fitting of my dress-the moment every bride dreams of, when she finally steps into the gown tailored just for her after weeks of careful work. The dress had been finished the week before, and today was the big reveal to see if every adjustment had turned out right.

“Could you bring the reservation under Annabelle Bennett, please?” Zoey asked one of the attendants, who immediately disappeared into the back to retrieve my dress.

When she returned with it, protected inside a fabric garment bag, my heart started racing. It felt like I was about to see a work of art created just for me.

“Let’s see how it turned out,” the seamstress said, helping me slip into the dress with careful hands.

It was exactly how I’d dreamed it would be. Satin with delicate embroidery and a train that seemed to float behind me. Every adjustment had been done with precision. Every detail designed to flatter my silhouette.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, everything stopped.

Without warning, I started to cry.

Not the quiet, graceful kind of crying. The kind that comes straight from the soul-full sobs, tears streaming down my face with no intention of stopping.

“Annie!” Zoey rushed to my side, alarmed. “What happened? Is something wrong with the dress?”

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“No,” I managed between sobs, staring at my reflection. “It’s perfect. It’s just that… I’m getting married, Zoey. I’m marrying Nate.”

It was like reality hit me all at once, out of nowhere. Seeing myself in the mirror, dressed as a bride, made everything real in a way it hadn’t been before.

“Your emotions are all over the place,” Zoey said, hugging me carefully so she wouldn’t ruin the dress with makeup. “Are you okay?”

‘m great,” I said, still crying but smiling now too. “It’s just… everything feels really intense lately.”

And it truly did. There was something different about the past few days that I couldn’t fully explain. I felt more sensitive to everything. Smells, emotions, and even sunlight seemed brighter than usual. And I was running to the bathroom so often it was starting to feel embarrassing.

“Sorry,” I said to the attendants watching us with expressions caught somewhere between concern and tenderness. “I just need to use the restroom again.”

It was the fifth time in two hours.

When I came back, Zoey was quietly talking with the seamstress about the final details. The dress was perfect. No more adjustments were needed.

We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Solara, revisiting places from our childhood and soaking in the city we missed so much. But as the hours passed, I felt more and more exhausted. It was a strange kind of fatigue, like my body was working overtime without telling me why.

We returned to the hotel in the late afternoon, and I practically collapsed onto the bed.

“Are you okay?” Zoey asked, watching me closely as I sprawled across the pillows.

“Just tired,” I murmured, closing my eyes. “Probably still jet lag.”

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t all. Something about my body had felt off for days now.

That night, I woke up with a mild cramp low in my abdomen. Nothing severe, but enough to pull me out of sleep.

I lay there for a few minutes, trying to figure out exactly what I was feeling, when Zoey shifted in the bed beside

“Are you awake?” she whispered.

“I have this weird cramp,” I admitted softly.

Zoey sat up immediately, wide awake.

“What do you mean, weird cramp?”

“I don’t know… it feels like menstrual cramps, but different. Lighter.”

There was a moment of silence while we both processed that. I could practically hear Zoey’s brain firing, connecting dots I wasn’t quite ready to connect myself.

“Annie,” she said slowly, “how many days has it been since the transfer?”

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I did the math in my head, my heart starting to pound.

“Ten days.”

There was another moment of silence.

“And the symptoms you’ve been having… the emotional roller coaster, the exhaustion, the constant bathroom trips, now this cramping…”

could be the treatment hormones,” I cut in quickly, but my voice didn’t sound convincing even to me.

“Or it’s pregnancy,” Zoey said, and I could hear the smile in her voice even in the dark, “or those hormones you’re taking are trying to kill you.”

I laughed, but it came out shaky.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” I admitted. “But it could just be wedding anxiety. Or the hormones from the treatment,” I added, trying to stay grounded.

“It could be,” Zoey agreed. “But it could also not be.”

We lay there in silence for a few minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The possibility hung between us like an invisible elephant in the room.

Suddenly, Zoey jumped out of bed with an energy that startled me.

“Where are you going?” I asked, watching her shove her feet into sneakers while she was still in her pajamas.

She rushed toward the door, only pausing to shout over her shoulder, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back!”

And before I could ask a single question, she was gone, leaving me alone in the dark hotel room.

I stared at the closed door, still trying to process how fast she’d disappeared.

“Crazy,” I muttered to the empty room, shaking my head with a mix of affection and exasperation. “Completely crazy.”

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