Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 466

Chapter 466

Madeline’s POV

Christian left as soon as the security team arrived, promising to come back once he had more information about the attack. Now our building was completely taken over by security, from the entrance downstairs to two men stationed strategically outside our apartment door.

It felt surreal, watching our normal life turn into something straight out of an action movie. Men in dark suits with discreet earpieces moved through the hallways, checking every corner, every shadow, like our safety depended on constant surveillance.

I stayed in the apartment with Olivia, Zoey, and Marcus. All of us were stuck in a kind of emotional limbo, replaying the terrifying fact that we could have died-and that we’d been saved by mere minutes. If Zoey’s boot hadn’t been such a hassle to take off and put back on, if I hadn’t offered the anti-inflammatory, if we hadn’t gotten distracted by the camp photos… we’d be dead right now.

It was impossible to fully process. Death had passed so close that I could still feel its cold breath on the back of my neck.

Annabelle called just a few minutes later, and Zoey didn’t even need to put the phone on speaker for all of us to hear fragments of the conversation. Annie’s voice was high with panic and fear, carrying that tightly controlled hysteria of someone who had just realized how close she’d come to losing the people she loved.

“…it’s all over the English news-the Kensington jet that exploded…” I heard clearly, and my stomach clenched as I imagined how that headline was spreading around the world.

.

“Annie, breathe,” Zoey said, trying to keep her voice calm despite her own tension. “We’re all fine. We weren’t on the jet when-”

“…I almost went into labor from the shock!” Annie practically screamed on the other end, her voice breaking with a mix of relief and lingering terror.

“Are you and Avery okay?” Zoey asked immediately, her concern overriding everything else.

“I should be the one asking if you are okay!” Annie shot back, and I could clearly hear her holding back sobs.” When I saw it on TV, I thought… I thought I’d lost you.”

I drifted a little while Zoey patiently reassured her sister, explaining again and again that we were all safe, that it had been incredibly close, but that we were alive. I realized this same conversation would repeat itself over the next few hours, as more people found out what had happened.

Then Matthew called. Then her parents. Then Gwen. Each call followed the same pattern-initial panic, overwhelming relief, questions, reassurances, promises to stay safe. Zoey answered every one with the same patience, even as her voice began to show signs of emotional exhaustion.

Marcus spoke with his parents, then his siblings, and finally his grandpa. I could tell from his tone that he was trying to downplay the seriousness of it all so he wouldn’t scare them more than necessary-while still being honest about the danger we were in.

Even Olivia got a call from Luke, and I watched the visible relief wash over her face when she heard his voice. It was as if the attack had forced all of us to confront just how fragile our connections were with the people we

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loved-and how easily everything could have been taken from us.

In a way, I knew no one would be calling specifically to check on me. No one outside this room knew I was supposed to be on that jet, so there were no frantic relatives or friends trying to confirm I was alive. It was a strange, melancholy realization to be at the center of a tragedy narrowly avoided, and yet have no one out there desperate for news about me.

And at the same time, a part of me couldn’t help wondering: if they did know, would they care? Would my family call? My parents, who had committed me to a psychiatric clinic and essentially abandoned me-would they feel anything if they found out I’d almost died? Or would it just be another inconvenience in their perfectly organized lives?

I was lost in those dark, spiraling thoughts when I felt Marcus’s hand gently stroke my hair. I hadn’t even realized I’d leaned back on the couch close enough to him, or that my body had grown visibly tense as I processed the loneliness of my situation.

His touch was soft, comforting in a way that made my chest tighten with a mix of gratitude and pain. I was so tired of fighting. So exhausted from constantly worrying. So shaken by everything that had happened that I simply leaned into him and let him continue.

It was a temporary surrender to the comfort he offered, even knowing it would probably hurt me later. Once again, there I was-letting myself be carried by my feelings for a man who had already made it clear he didn’t have romantic feelings for me.

Marcus kept running his fingers through my hair with a tenderness that made me question everything we’d argued about the night before. How could someone who didn’t love me touch me like that? How could someone who saw me as nothing more than a responsibility make me feel so protected… so wanted?

But maybe that was exactly the problem.

Maybe Marcus was simply kind and protective by nature, and I was mistaking care for love, protection for passion. Maybe I was projecting my own feelings onto gestures that, to him, were nothing more than a decent man taking care of someone in a vulnerable situation.

The thought made me want to pull away. To shield myself from the inevitable pain of continuing to fool myself. But the events of the day had left me too drained to resist the comfort he offered. We had almost died. That simple, terrifying reality made arguments about feelings seem like luxuries I couldn’t afford right now.

So I stayed there, curled against Marcus, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing, letting that temporary sense of safety wrap around me like a blanket. I knew I was letting my heart break a little more. I knew I had no idea how I’d put it back together afterward.

But in that moment, I simply didn’t have the strength to resist.

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