Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 473

Chapter 473

Marcus’ POV

I was arranging the food on the kitchen counter when I heard Madeline’s footsteps coming down the stairs. I turned to greet her, but the words died in my throat the moment I saw her.

She was white as a sheet. Completely pale, her expression caught somewhere between shock and fear-enough to make me abandon what I was doing immediately.

“What happened?”

She looked at me, then at the envelope she was holding so carefully it was like she was afraid it might explode.

“My father left me a note.”

She paused, swallowing hard before continuing, her voice fragile.

“I can’t open it. I can’t read it.”

I frowned, trying to understand what was stopping her. It was just an envelope. A letter.

“Why?”

Madeline glanced back at it, as if it contained something dangerous.

“What if it’s something bad?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “What if his last words are something horrible? It could trigger an anxiety attack, and that wouldn’t be good for the baby.”

Her fear made sense. After everything she’d been through in the last few hours, another emotional trigger really could be dangerous. The doctor’s warning about the placental abruption echoed in my mind.

I thought for a moment before answering, choosing my words carefully.

“Do you want to tear it up, then?”

I saw immediate panic flash across her face as she shook her head.

“I don’t want that either,” she said quickly. “Those are my father’s last words to me.”

It was an impossible dilemma. She couldn’t open it for fear of what it might contain, but she couldn’t destroy it either, because it was her last connection to her father. Trapped between two equally painful choices.

“You can keep it,” I suggested gently. “Put it somewhere safe until you’re ready. There’s no deadline. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a week, a month, or a year. You can read it when you’re ready.”

Madeline nodded slowly, seeming to take in the idea. It gave her an option that didn’t force her into an impossible decision, and didn’t close any doors forever.

She stood there for a few seconds, staring at the envelope, before clearly trying to change the subject.

“So… what are we having for dinner?”

I recognized the deflection tactic, but I decided to follow her lead. If what she needed right now was normalcy, I

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could give her that.

“I ordered Verdanian comfort food,” I said, gesturing toward the containers on the counter. “Chicken stroganoff, rice, shoestring potatoes. Nothing too heavy, but good.”

A small smile appeared on her face for the first time since she’d come downstairs.

“You really did try to please me.

She sat at the table while I finished setting everything up, and we started eating in a comfortable silence that slowly gave way to lighter conversation. We talked about the apartment, about little everyday details, about nothing specific-and everything at once.

Naturally, the conversation drifted toward motherhood and fatherhood, especially after finding out we were having a girl.

“I never dreamed of being a mother,” Madeline said thoughtfully, twirling her fork. “I mean, I always saw it as a natural part of life-fall in love, get married, have kids. But it was never this burning desire for me like it is for some women, you know?”

I nodded, listening closely as she put her thoughts together.

“But now…” she continued, her hand unconsciously moving to her belly, “now I already feel so attached to her that I feel stupid for ever thinking having a child was just part of growing up. It’s not about following the script of life. It’s about loving unconditionally.”

I smiled, feeling that same growing attachment she was describing.

“I already feel attached too,” I admitted. “But unlike you, I always imagined I’d be the father of a girl.”

“Really? Why?”

The question made me pause, searching for the right words to explain something that had always been more of a feeling than a clearly formed thought.

“I think I’ve always had this image in my head,” I began. “A little girl with dark curls running through the house, laughing that way kids laugh when they’re completely happy. Someone I could teach to be strong and independent, but who would also know she always had a safe place to come back to.”

I stopped for a moment, gathering my thoughts.

“I grew up watching how my father was with my sister, Mia. The way he protected her without smothering her. How he taught her to stand up for herself, but also to be kind. How he could be firm when needed, but still be the first one to comfort her when something went wrong.

My voice softened as I went on.

“That’s the kind of father I want to be. I want our daughter to grow up knowing she can conquer the entire world –but that she’ll always have someone cheering for her, no matter what. I want to teach her to be brave, to never accept less than she deserves, to know her own worth.”

I looked at Madeline and saw something in her eyes that made me continue.

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“I want her to never feel like she has to settle for situations that diminish her. To never accept being controlled or manipulated by anyone. To know that real love doesn’t come with conditions or chains.”

I took a deep breath before finishing.

“And I want her to have a mother like you as her example. Someone who, even when everything seemed impossible, found the strength to fight for her own freedom and happiness. Someone who didn’t give up, even when it would’ve been easier to surrender.”

When I finished, I realized Madeline was crying. Silent tears streamed down her face as she looked at me with an intensity that left me momentarily speechless.

“What is it?” I asked, worried I’d said something wrong.

She shook her head, wiping at her tears with her hands.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking. “I can’t ignore my father’s letter anymore, no matter what. I need to know what he wrote.”

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