Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 372

Chapter 372

Two Months Later, Madeline’s POV

“Don’t forget your dress fitting this afternoon,” Dominic said, adjusting his tie as he got ready to leave. He ked my cheek-one of those automatic kisses couples give each other when they’ve been together too long. Vivian is going with you.”

My stomach twisted slightly at the sound of her name, but I kept the plastic smile on my face.

“Of course,” I replied, forcing a cheerful tone.

“And don’t be late this time, okay? You know how Vivian gets stressed.”

Oh yes. How could I ever forget how stressed Vivian would get?

“Don’t worry,” I said, smiling again as I opened the door for him.

“Love you,” he murmured distractedly.

“Love you too,” I lied automatically.

I leaned my back against the closed door and let out a deep breath, feeling the tension I always carried when he was around finally start to ease.

“I hate it when he spends the weekend here,” Olivia commented from the living room, rolling her eyes without even looking up from her phone.

“You hate it less than I do,” I replied, dropping onto the couch beside her with a heavy sigh.

It had been exactly two months since I’d come back from the Maldives, and my life had turned into a carefully staged farce in which I was both the lead actress and the prisoner.

When I returned, I discovered that the entire story of my canceled wedding had been completely rewritten. The bride who discovered a betrayal and ran off with a stranger to the Maldives? Of course not. That version would never be accepted by Belmonte’s high society. The official story was that I’d had a nervous breakdown caused by the stress of wedding preparations, spent a week hospitalized at a luxury psychiatric recovery clinic, and had now returned-healed and ready to marry again in three months.

When I tried to talk to my mother about what had really happened that day, she looked at me as if I were having another episode. She pretended the betrayal scene had never happened, that I’d never caught Dominic and Vivian kissing, that I’d never overheard their sordid plans. She gave me that condescending smile reserved for someone deemed mentally unstable and changed the subject every time I mentioned the truth.

“Madeline, sweetheart,” she said in that sugary voice that sent chills down my spine, “you need to focus on the future, not get stuck on those fantasies your mind created during the crisis.”

Fantasies… As if I’d made it all up.

When I tried to corner Dominic to see how much he’d admit, he apologized for having “called so many times” while I was at the “clinic.” He talked about how hard it had been for him too, how worried he’d been, how grateful he was to God that I was better.

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And Vivian… Vivian was the cherry on top. She showed up at my apartment on my second day back, eyes full of tears, holding a bouquet of flowers, apologizing for “not noticing the signs” of my burnout. She offered to personally handle every detail of the new wedding so I wouldn’t have to deal with any additional stress.

“Is ould’ve realized you were overwhelmed,” she said, squeezing my hands with that fake affection. “Now I’ll take care of everything. You just need to focus on getting better.”

The irony was so bitter I could barely swallow it.

Then there was Olivia. Olivia was the only person in the world who knew the full, ugly truth. I told her everything about the Maldives. About Apollo, whose real name was Marcus; about the days of paradise we shared; about the mysterious photos; about the threat with the laser sight aimed at his head. And even knowing I was telling the truth, the two of us still had to play along.

Because I’d realized this was a much more dangerous game than I’d first imagined. It was no longer just about my father’s health, which, by the way, had “miraculously” improved once I agreed to reschedule the wedding. It wasn’t just about my mother’s social pressure or saving the family business anymore. It was about life and death.

The photos I received on that last day in the Maldives hadn’t been a figment of my imagination. The laser sight on Marcus’s neck had been real. The message had been clear: I would be watched, controlled, and any attempt to escape would be punished with violence.

Over the last two months, I’d learned to live with the constant feeling of being observed. Every place I went, every person I spoke to, every move I made felt like it was being cataloged by someone. I’d developed the habit of checking whether I was being followed, of glancing over my shoulder, of avoiding places that were too isolated.

And Marcus… Marcus had become a memory I’d locked deep inside my heart, because thinking about him was like touching a wound that refused to heal. Sometimes, when I was distracted, I caught myself remembering the way he laughed, or how his blue eyes lit up when he was planning some kind of trouble. But those memories were dangerous. They were a luxury I couldn’t afford.

Especially because if the photos had proven anything, it was that anyone who got close to me was in danger.

Seconds after closing the door behind Dominic, that familiar, nauseating sensation rose up my throat. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up violently. The morning sickness had started about a week earlier, and I’d been doing my best to ignore the obvious possibility it pointed to.

Olivia followed me, stopping in the bathroom doorway with an expression that mixed concern and knowing.

“Either you’re truly disgusted by that man,” she said, crossing her arms, “or you should take a pregnancy test.”

“I’m definitely very disgusted by him,” I managed to say between waves of nausea, before throwing up again.

“But you should take the test anyway,” Olivia insisted gently. “First drawer on the right.”

I looked at her, confused, then turned to the sink and opened the drawer she’d pointed out. Inside, tucked between beauty products and medications, was an unopened pregnancy test.

“I bought it yesterday,” Olivia explained when she saw my surprise. “But first pee of the day is better. Besides… you wouldn’t want to do it with Dominic around.”

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The reality of what she was suggesting hit me like a freezing wave. For the past two months, I’d forced myself not to think about the implications of what had happened in the Maldives. I’d focused only on surviving day by day, on playing the role everyone expected from me.

But now, holding that test in my hands, every possibility I’d refused to consider came rushing back all at once.

“I don’t know if I’m brave enough,” I whispered, staring at the test like it was a bomb about to explode.

“You’re nothing but brave, Madeline,” Olivia said, stepping closer and resting a hand on my shoulder. “And I’ll be right here with you.”

I took a deep breath, looking at the face of the only person I still trusted completely. Olivia-who’d known me since childhood, who knew all my secrets, who was willing to play this dangerous game with me just to keep me alive.

I picked up the test, determination settling in.

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