Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 380

Chapter 380

Madeline’s POV

It wasn’t a question. It was a simple, direct statement that was impossible to deny after what he’d just W..nessed.

“It’s not yours,” I said immediately, still on my knees on the cold bathroom floor, trying to regain some control over a situation that was slipping through my fingers.

The words came out automatically, like a protective reflex. Denial was easier and safer. It kept a barrier between us, even if we both knew there was a very real chance it wasn’t true.

“How far along are you?” he asked, stepping closer, his tone careful but insistent.

I tried to stand, bracing myself against the cold sink, but my legs were shaking from the nausea and from the emotional strain crashing down all at once. I didn’t want this conversation. Not here. Not like this.

“I haven’t done any official tests yet…” I tried to deflect, avoiding his eyes. But I could tell Marcus had no intention of letting it go.

“How many months, Madeline?” he repeated, firmer now, like he knew I was dodging the real issue.

I lowered my gaze, unable to look at him. The truth sat heavy on my tongue, like molten lead.

“Maybe… nine or ten weeks,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

I saw the exact moment he did the math. Nine or ten weeks took us straight back to the Maldives. Straight back to that intense week we’d spent together, far from the real world and all its complications.

“Then it could be mine,” he said, his voice tightening, charged with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. Surprise? Fear? Resolve?

“Impossible,” I shot back, desperate to cling to the denial I’d built inside my head. “We were careful every time and-”

“Not every time,” Marcus interrupted, his blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach twist again. “And you know that.”

My heart slammed into my ribs because he was right. We both knew it. We’d been careful most of the time. But there had been that one night. The one where the intensity had overwhelmed logic. Where urgent desire had made protection an afterthought, lost in the need to be completely connected.

“It was just once,” I murmured, more to myself than to him, as if saying it out loud could somehow reduce the odds of what it implied.

“That’s enough,” Marcus said simply.

He wasn’t speculating. He wasn’t playing with hypotheticals. He was stating a basic biological fact I knew but had chosen to ignore over the past few weeks. It had only been once with Marcus. With Dominic, on the other hand, we were supposedly planning a family. Protection hadn’t been necessary after all the medical exams. At least, that’s what I’d believed back then.

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“It’s not yours,” I insisted again, grasping for control as everything continued to unravel. “I’m getting married. and moving on with my life. And you should do the same. You should forget we ever met. Forget everything that happened between us.”

The words sounded hollow even as I said them.

Marcus stepped closer, and this time I couldn’t avoid his gaze. There was something different in him now, a determination that hadn’t been there minutes earlier. As if the possibility of fatherhood had triggered something primal and instinctive.

“You can say whatever you want, Madeline,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with an absolute resolve that made me shiver. “But things are very different now.’

He paused, like he was choosing his next words carefully.

“And if that child is mine,” he continued, each word delivered with surgical precision, “you don’t get a choice. I will pull you out of that wedding, whether you want it or not.”

The absolute, almost possessive tone of his statement hit me like a lightning strike. This wasn’t an offer of help anymore. It wasn’t romance. It was a declaration of war. A line drawn in the sand. An ultimatum that shifted everything between us.

“You can’t do that,” I whispered, but my voice came out weak, uncertain.

“I can. And I will,” he replied without hesitation. “If there’s even a chance I’m that child’s father, I’m not standing by while you marry a criminal and raise my child inside a lie.”

The word ‘my child’ twisted something deep in my chest. There was a claim in it. A sense of ownership that was terrifying… and, disturbingly, a little comforting.

“Marcus, you don’t understand how complicated this is,” I tried to explain. “There are other people involved. Consequences you can’t even imagine-”

“Then explain them to me,” he said, crossing his arms. “Tell me what those consequences are. Tell me what’s really keeping you trapped.”

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“Can’t, or won’t?”

The question hung between us. Marcus watched me with those blue eyes that felt like they could see straight through me, and I felt completely exposed, like he could read every fear I’d been hiding.

“It’s complicated,” I said at last.

“Life is complicated, Madeline. But some things are simple,” he replied. “Like the fact that you shouldn’t be marrying a man you don’t love. Like the fact that a child deserves to grow up in a home where their parents chose each other out of love, not obligation or blackmail.”

“And what if it’s not your child?” I asked, grasping for a crack in his relentless logic.

“When we know for sure, you’ll be free to make your decision,” he said calmly. “But until then, I’m not taking the risk of letting my possible child grow up in that situation.”

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“You barely know me,” I said, making one last attempt at reason. “You spent one week with me. That doesn’t mean you love me or that you want a family with me.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, surprising me. “One week isn’t enough time to fully know someone. But it was enough time to know you deserve a hell of a lot better than the life they’re forcing on you.”

“Marcus…” I started, but he cut me off.

“Don’t try to talk me out of this,” he said firmly. “My decision is made. If there’s even the slightest chance that

child is mine, you are not marrying Dominic Blackwood.”

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