Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 438

Chapter 438

Marcus’ POV

The communal dinner was being served in the main pavilion, an impressive structure of wood and glass that offered a panoramic view of the mountains. The three companies had been strategically seated at separate tables, close enough that we could discreetly observe our competitors.

The Ross team seemed to be made up mostly of younger employees, full of energy and clearly excited about the competition. They laughed loudly, gestured a lot, and looked genuinely enthusiastic about the weekend ahead. A modern winery, probably focused on innovation and digital marketing.

The Montgomery table, on the other hand, was completely different. The group looked more formal, and there was a palpable tension among them. Some faces seemed familiar, likely long-time employees who had survived the change in leadership. Others were clearly new, still trying to find their place within the team’s dynamic.

“It’s strange seeing them here,” Christian murmured, following my gaze. “After everything that happened.”

“Impressive how quickly they bounced back,” I replied, taking a sip of the local wine being served. “A few months ago they were in total crisis, and now they look… stable.”

“New money,” Zoey observed, though her voice still carried tension from the earlier argument. “Someone must have made a serious investment.”

“But who would invest in a company with such a damaged reputation?” Madeline asked, clearly trying to make sense of it. “It doesn’t seem like a smart move.”

“Maybe it was cheap enough to be worth the risk,” Luke suggested, methodically cutting a piece of lamb. “Or someone saw potential in the traditional brand despite the recent problems.”

“It must have been a very attractive price,” I agreed. “A winery with the Montgomery history, even with the scandals, still has market value.”

“Especially if the buyer has the patience to rebuild the reputation,” Christian added. “Could be a long-term strategy.”

“Or someone experienced in corporate restructuring,” Madeline suggested. “There are investors who specialize in that, right?”

“There are, 11

I confirmed. “Funds that buy distressed companies, clean them up, and resell them for profit.”

“Either way,” Christian said, glancing discreetly toward their table, “whoever it is worked fast. They look organized for a company that was practically bankrupt just a few months ago.”

The rest of the dinner unfolded with lighter conversation about the upcoming activities, the quality of the food, and comments on the spectacular mountain views. Still, I noticed that all of us occasionally cast curious glances toward the Montgomery table, trying to read the dynamics of the new team.

At exactly nine o’clock, we were directed to the main auditorium of the complex, an elegant lodge designed specifically for presentations and meetings. The space blended rustic wood charm with modern technology. A large screen, professional sound system, and adjustable lighting created an atmosphere that was polished yet welcoming.

1/3

The event organizer stepped onto the stage, wireless microphone in hand.

“Good evening, everyone!” The organizer’s voice echoed through the hall. “Welcome to this special weekend of integration and competition between three of the most respected wineries in the region.”

Polite applause filled the space.

“This event was designed to promote not only healthy competition, but also personal and professional growth through challenges that test teamwork, leadership, and innovation.”

More applause, and I noticed all three teams looked genuinely interested.

“Over the next few days, you’ll take part in activities that will challenge not only your physical abilities, but also your capacity to work under pressure, solve complex problems, and lead your teams through adverse situations.

11

The presenter gestured toward a screen displaying the detailed schedule.

“Each activity will be scored based on performance, and the winning team will be announced Sunday night.”

“Now, let’s meet our team leaders!” he continued, energy rising. “Representing the innovative Ross Winery, we have CEO Julius Ross!”

A man in his early thirties, modern and energetic, stood up from the table near ours, waving confidently to the crowd. He looked exactly like what you’d expect from the CEO of a cutting-edge winery. Dynamic,

contemporary, completely at ease with the new generation.

“Representing the renowned Kensington Winery, we have COO Marcus Kensington!”

I stood, offering a professional smile as I waved. I projected confidence, even though inside I was already bracing myself for whatever came next.

Christian had decided it was best for me to represent Kensington at this event. As COO of the Valentian division, and considering all the recent scandals tied to my name, he believed the local team needed visible leadership. Someone close. Someone present.

“And now,” the presenter said, pausing dramatically, “representing Montgomery Winery under new management, we have CEO Vivian Walker!”

The woman who stood from the table to our right, previously half-hidden behind her employees, was the last person I ever expected to see there.

Perfectly styled hair that tried too hard. A carefully rehearsed confidence in her posture. Dressed in forced elegance, the kind meant to look expensive but betrayed questionable origins in the poorly executed details.

She waved, her professional smile flawless. Her eyes scanned the room calmly until they landed on our table. For a brief second, our gazes locked, and I caught a flash of something. Satisfaction? Recognition? Then she turned back to the presenter as if nothing had happened.

I felt Madeline go completely rigid beside me.

The presenter went on about scoring systems and rules, but I wasn’t processing a single word anymore. My mind was racing, trying to understand what Vivianne was doing there. How she had become CEO of

2/3

Montgomery. Of all the people who could’ve bought that company, seeing her there was the very last thing I’d expected.

When the presentation finally ended and people began to disperse, I leaned toward Madeline.

“Let’s get out of here,” I murmured urgently. “Let’s leave. Now.”

She looked straight at me, and what I saw in her eyes wasn’t fear or hesitation.

It was pure determination.

“No,” she said firmly. “Zoey is right. We’re going to show them that nobody messes with a Kensington.”

I smiled at her, pride and admiration crashing over me all at once. For the first time since we’d gotten married, Madeline had referred to herself as a Kensington. She wasn’t seeing herself as an outsider trying to fit in

anymore.

She was a Kensington.

And she was ready to fight like one.

P

Comments

Support

Share

3/3