Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 49

Chapter 49

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“And rightly so!” Vivian declared, opening one of the folders to reveal pages upon pages of meticulous notes. “We have so much to decide! Guest list, catering, flowers, music, vows…”

My stomach sank as she rattled off the list. The reality of it all hit me with brutal force. I was actually getting married. Again. Or rather, for the first time, since the previous wedding had never happened.

“I thought it would be something simple,” I managed to say when Vivian finally paused for breath. “Just what’s necessary to make it legal.”

Vivian looked at me as if I’d suggested we hold the wedding at a gas station.

“Darling, you’re marrying Christian Kensington. ‘Simple’ is not an option.” She turned to Christian. “I assume Joseph will want all the cousins present? And the key business partners?”

Christian offered a conciliatory gesture.

“Actually, we’ll keep it relatively intimate, Vivian. Just close family and a few friends.”

“Intimate?” She looked horrified. “But the press will speculate!”

The hours that followed blurred into a frenzy of decisions. Invitation samples, color palettes, menu options— every item added another layer of complexity. Even the “reduced” guest list Christian proposed still included over a hundred people.

It was when Vivian began discussing dress details that the first wave of panic hit me.

11

‘…perhaps something from Vera Wang? We can secure an exclusive piece with a few calls,” Vivian continued, oblivious to my growing discomfort.

“Actually, I already have a dress,” I interrupted, my voice sounding strangely distant even to myself.

Vivian froze mid-sentence, clearly shocked.

“A dress? Already? But how…?”

Christian stepped in gently:

“I bought it for her. The gown she admired in the store where she used to work.”

I caught Vivian’s surprised look and Christian’s unreadable expression. He had purchased that absurdly expensive gown during our first “arrangement” and had never mentioned returning it. The irony wasn’t lost on me-a dress bought for a sham would now be worn for another.

I couldn’t help but think back to the fittings for my last wedding dress, Elise at my side pretending to be my best friend, all while she was already sleeping with my fiancé,

The air in the room suddenly felt scarce.

“Zoey?” Christian’s voice reached me, though he was sitting right beside me. “Are you alright?”

I stood abruptly, my hands trembling.

“I need a moment,” I managed, before practically fleeing the room.

In the hallway, away from their concerned eyes, I leaned against the wall and slid down until I was sitting on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. My breaths came in short, sharp gasps, tears blurring my vision. I don’t know how long I stayed there, trying to wrestle my panic under control, until I felt a presence beside me. I looked up into Christian’s concerned eyes.

The stone corridors felt endless as Christian guided me through a part of the estate I had never seen. With each step, the air grew cooler, the silence heavier. My breathing had returned to normal, though the traces of dried tears still lingered on my face.

“Where are we going?” I finally asked, my voice echoing lightly against the stone walls.

“To my favorite place on the entire property,” he replied, without letting go of my hand.

We descended a spiral stone staircase until we reached a heavy wooden door. Christian tapped a code into a discreet panel, and the door opened with a soft click.

“Welcome to the Kensington’s main cellar.”

I stepped inside, and the breath immediately left my lungs. The space was immense, far larger than I would have imagined, bathed in soft lights that cast dancing shadows along the ancient stone walls. Rows upon rows of oak barrels stretched out into the distance, some so large I would have had to spread my arms wide to hug them. Along the side walls, carefully arranged niches held bottles that looked centuries old.

“This cellar is over two hundred years old,” Christian explained as he walked among the barrels. “Some of these walls were built by the very first Kensingtons who came to Verdania.”

I followed him, fascinated by how naturally he seemed to belong here, his fingers occasionally brushing against a barrel as though greeting an old friend.

“I thought it would be fun for us to choose the wines for the ceremony,” he said, stopping in front of a small wooden table where crystal glasses had already been set out.

“If the idea is to taste all of this…” – I gestured toward the vastness of the cellar – “I’m going to leave here completely drunk.”

A genuine smile lit up his face, the first I’d seen since the night before.

“That’s exactly the idea.”

A peculiar glint appeared in his eyes.

“It’s something I made just for fun, not for sale. A little personal experiment.”

I took another sip, letting the flavor spread.

“It’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” I affirmed, holding out my glass. “I think I need more of this little personal experiment.”

As he leaned in to pour more wine, I touched his wrist, stopping him.

“You know what makes a wine even more special?” My voice came out lower, almost a whisper. “Tasting it in different ways.”

He looked at me in surprise, and before the liquid courage could abandon me, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he remained still, as if stunned. Then his hands found my waist, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss.

The taste of the wine mixed with the heat of his mouth, creating an intoxication far stronger than any alcohol. My hands slid up to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, while his grip on my waist tightened.

He was the one who pulled away first, his breathing as uneven as mine.

“You’re drunk,” he murmured, though his eyes stayed fixed on my lips.

I laughed softly, admitting the truth.

“Maybe a little. But I needed it to survive Vivian and this whole wedding circus.”

Something dark and unreadable flickered in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced by a knowing smile.

“Better we head back, then,” he said, standing and offering his hand. “Before she sends out a search party.”

I accepted his help, my fingers intertwining with his with surprising ease. As we walked back through the stone corridors, a part of me wondered what had just happened. What that kiss meant, given under the influence of several glasses of wine.

And why, despite all my promises to keep an emotional distance, I already wanted to do it again.

Ah, damn it. Annabelle had been right. I really needed to make up my mind.