Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 401

Chapter 401

Marcus’ POV

Christian’s office in the mansion had turned into our improvised command center. He was bent over his ma gany desk, surrounded by papers, speaking on the phone in a low but urgent voice. I paced back and forth near the windows, knowing that even though the cars had left the property, they couldn’t have gone far.

“The lawyers are reviewing all the documentation,” Christian said after hanging up. “But formally contesting the medical reports is going to take time.”

“Time we don’t have,” I replied, turning to face him. “Every minute we stand around doing nothing is another minute they use to strengthen their case.”

Christian sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

“So what do you suggest?”

“A helicopter,” I said immediately. “We leave the property by air, fly straight to the airport. From there we take the jet and disappear before they have time to react.”

Christian studied me for a long moment, as if weighing whether the idea was even possible. Then he slowly shook his head.

“It won’t work,” he said firmly. “If we do that, by the time we get to the airport to board the jet, the police will be waiting for us. They’ll claim we’re kidnapping someone who’s mentally unfit, resisting the authorities, fleeing with evidence. It would make everything worse.”

I knew he was right, but the feeling of helplessness was eating me alive.

“So what’s the alternative?” I shot back. “We sit here and wait for them to come back with a real warrant this time?”

“For now, yes,” Christian said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s our best option at the moment.”

“That doesn’t buy us much time,” I argued, resuming my pacing. “They’ll be back soon with all the paperwork in order, and then we won’t have a choice.”

“The Kensington lawyers are already on it,” Christian said, trying to sound confident. “If there’s anything that can be done, they’ll do it. We have the best professionals in the country.”

I stopped pacing and looked straight at him.

“And if there’s nothing that can be done?”

Christian hesitated for a split second before answering, and that hesitation told me everything I needed to know.

“Of course there will be,” he said finally. “Madeline wasn’t in a clinic. Those reports are obviously fake. She’s not mentally unstable. Any serious investigation will uncover that.”

“Apparently her ex-fiancé has some very good connections to get all that fake documentation,” I said, thinking about the conversation I’d had with Madeline about Dominic. “What if his connections are better than ours?”

Christian let out a laugh, but there was no real humor in it.

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“We’re Kensingtons,” he said, the confidence in his voice almost automatic. “No one has better connections than we do.”

“I know,” I admitted, finally sitting down in the armchair across from his desk. “But time is on their side. All they need is a warrant to come in and take her. And we’re stuck here, cornered, playing defense.”

Christian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“So what exactly are you suggesting?”

“That we stop reacting and start acting,” I said, adrenaline starting to surge through my veins. “That we investigate Dominic Blackwood. Find out how he got his hands on those fake medical reports. Dig up something we can use against him.”

“That would take more than a few hours,” Christian pointed out. “Maybe weeks.”

“Not if we use the right resources,” I argued. “You said it yourself. We’re Kensingtons. We have private investigators, government contacts, people who owe us favors. If we mobilize all of that…”

Christian studied me for a few seconds, and I could see the moment the idea started to click.

“You’re suggesting we strike first?”

“I’m suggesting we protect Madeline in the only way that actually matters,” I corrected. “By destroying the credibility of the man trying to hurt her.”

Christian leaned back again, but there was something different in his posture now. Less defensive. More calculating.

“It would be risky,” he said slowly. “If they find out we’re actively investigating Dominic, they could claim we’re trying to intimidate witnesses or obstruct justice.”

“And if we do nothing, they take Madeline away,” I shot back. “I’d rather risk being accused of obstruction than let that happen.”

Christian fell silent for a few minutes, clearly weighing every variable. I could almost see him mentally organizing resources, contacts, possibilities.

“It would have to be discreet,” he said finally. “Nothing that could be traced directly back to us.”

“Obviously.”

“And fast. If we’re doing this, it has to be now, before they come back with proper documentation.”

“Marcus, be rational. This is impossible,” Christian said, leaning back in his chair. “They’ll get the warrant. It might be today, it might be tomorrow, but they will get it. There’s no way we can build a case against Dominic before that happens. And when it does, we won’t have a choice but to hand Madeline over.”

“Then what are we even discussing?” I asked, frustration cutting through my voice.

“We’re discussing how to get her back afterward,” Christian replied, something dangerous flashing in his expression. “They might win this battle, but we’re going to win the war. We’ll come at Dominic Blackwood with everything we have.”

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