Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 393

Chapter 393

Madeline’s POV

Standing at the entrance of the makeshift aisle between rows of chairs set up in the mansion’s gardens, my heart is pounding so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. My hands trembled slightly as I held the small bouquet of wildflowers Gwen had chosen. It was simple, but perfectly suited for such an intimate ceremony.

Nervous didn’t even begin to cover what I was feeling. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, about to jump without knowing whether there was a safety net waiting below.

The place was filled with faces that probably made sense to the Kensington family given who they were, with their connections and influence. But it meant absolutely nothing to me. Elegantly dressed businessmen. Women wearing discreet but unmistakably expensive jewelry. People who had likely traveled thousands of miles to be there. It was a small crowd of strangers watching the most vulnerable moment of my life.

But only one face mattered in the middle of all that. Only one pair of eyes.

Marcus stood at the end of the aisle beside a makeshift altar decorated with floral arrangements. He wore a dark suit that perfectly highlighted his athletic build, but what truly caught my attention was the way he looked at me. Like I was the most precious thing in the world. Like nothing else in that garden existed except me.

We hadn’t seen each other since his arrival from Valentia with his family that morning. Since I was already in full “bride mode,” the girls had decided to keep with tradition and keep us apart until the ceremony. Part of me had wondered if he would regret it when he saw me in a wedding dress-if the reality of what we were doing would finally hit him.

But when our eyes met across the distance between us, all I saw was certainty.

I started walking slowly down the aisle, trying not to trip over the hem of my dress or faint from nerves. Each step brought me closer to him, closer to a decision that would change my life forever. The guests rose in a collective whisper of fabric and shoes, but I barely registered them. All my focus was on the man waiting for me with a smile that was somehow both soft and intense.

When I finally reached him and could see him clearly, his eyes lit up with a mix of amusement and tenderness.

“So,” he murmured quietly, just for me, “we really do keep meeting like this, don’t we?”

I couldn’t stop a genuine laugh, knowing exactly what he meant. Me, in a wedding dress, just like the day we first met. The irony wasn’t lost on either of us.

“I’m hoping you’re not planning to run away this time,” he added, his voice light with humor but edged with something more serious underneath.

“I guess you’ll have to wait for the question to be sure,” I replied, surprised by my own ability to joke in that

moment.

He chuckled softly and held out his hand. When our fingers touched, a current of electricity shot up my arm. Together, we took the last few steps toward the makeshift altar, where a discreet officiant waited for us with a gentle smile.

It was strange standing there beside him. On one hand, Marcus was still essentially a stranger, someone who had stepped into my life just a week ago, someone whose daily habits I didn’t know yet, whose quirks and

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oddities were still a mystery. We didn’t know how the other took their coffee in the morning, which side of the bed they preferred, or how we reacted when we were truly angry.

But paradoxically, I felt safer and calmer beside him than I ever had with Dominic, even after years together. It was as if my body instinctively knew Marcus wasn’t a threat, that his presence was a refuge instead of a cage.

It was as if, despite everything being wrong about the circumstances that had brought us there, this was the most right thing I could be doing.

The officiant began the ceremony with traditional words about marriage, commitment, and partnership. I heard the familiar phrases only vaguely. My focus was on the feeling of Marcus’s hand in mine, the warmth radiating from him, the way he occasionally squeezed my fingers as if to steady me.

When it was time for the vows, Marcus spoke first. His words were simple but sincere. He promised to protect and care for me and the baby. He promised to be the partner I needed at this moment in my life. They weren’t grand declarations of eternal love, but they were honest. Somehow, that made them even more precious.

When it was my turn, my throat tightened.

What could I promise a man I barely knew? How could I make vows when I had no idea what the future held for us?

So I chose honesty.

“I promise to respect this marriage and to do my best to make it work,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “And I promise that no matter what happens, I’ll always remember that you showed up when I needed you most.

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Marcus smiled, and something lit up in his eyes that made my heart race.

Then came the moment I had been both anticipating and dreading.

“Madeline Sullivan,” the officiant said solemnly, “do you take Marcus Kensington to be your husband, of your own free will?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. I could feel the weight of every guest’s gaze, the anticipation thick in the air. I could feel Marcus beside me, waiting for my answer with a quiet, contained tension.

But when I opened my mouth, the yes came out so naturally that I couldn’t stop the tears finally spilling down my cheeks.

“Yes,” I said, louder this time, wanting there to be no doubt.

When the officiant asked Marcus the same question, his answer was just as firm. Just as immediate.

He continued with the formalities, asking if there were any objections to the marriage. The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the distant sound of birds singing in the trees around the gardens.

“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant announced with a smile.

Marcus turned to me, his hands coming up to cradle my face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears still trailing down my cheeks. For a brief moment, we just looked at each other, as if trying to memorize that instant forever.

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Then he leaned in and kissed me.

It wasn’t a showy kiss for the guests or a formality to seal a contract. It was soft and careful, yet filled with an intensity that sent a shiver through my entire body. It felt like that kiss sealed far more than ink on paper-like it sealed something deeper, something fundamental between us.

As were sealing a contract of souls.

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