Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 492

Chapter 492

Marcus’ POV

I walked out of the delivery room in a daze, my legs moving on autopilot as I crossed the obstetrics corridor. I had taken off the mask and cap, but I was still wearing the green surgical gown. My hands were still trembling slightly, the adrenaline slowly giving way to an almost unbearable euphoria.

She was born. Aurora was born.

My daughter was here. Real. Alive. Perfect. 3.2 kilograms of pure perfection. 19 inches of the most incredible miracle I had ever witnessed.

The relief hit me so hard that I had to stop for a moment, bracing one hand against the cold hallway wall and taking a deep breath. I was a father. Truly, officially, I was a father. The word echoed in my mind, gaining weight and meaning every time I repeated it.

I started walking again, a stupid, uncontrollable smile on my face. I needed to tell everyone. I needed to shout it to the world-that I was a father, that I had a beautiful, perfect daughter and-

I passed a man in the hallway.

It happened so fast I barely registered it. He was turned away, disappearing around a corner. Dark hair. Impeccable suit. Upright posture. Just a glimpse. A second. Maybe less.

But something in my stomach twisted.

I stopped in the middle of the corridor, staring at the empty corner where the man had vanished. My heart, which had been light and racing with happiness, now pounded for an entirely different reason.

Dominic?

No, It couldn’t be.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away. I was imagining things. I had to be. Dominic was busy with his dirty schemes, completely unaware that I had just become a father. He didn’t even know Madeline was here. That she had given birth today.

But he had looked so much like-

‘Stop,’ I ordered myself. ‘You’ve never seen him in person. Only in photos, videos, news footage. It could have been anyone. Any executive visiting someone in the hospital.’

Still, the sense of danger didn’t fully fade. I took a deep breath, forcing my shoulders to relax. I wasn’t going to let him ruin this. Not today. Today was about Aurora. About Madeline. About my family. Dominic Blackwood had no place here.

I resumed walking toward the waiting room with more determined steps, pushing that uneasy feeling to the back of my mind. It was probably just paranoia. Probably.

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The moment I stepped into the waiting room, everyone stood up.

Christian reached me first, eyes wide and anxious. Zoey was right behind him, her hands clasped in front of her. Joseph rose slowly from the couch, leaning on his cane. My mother looked at me with raw expectation. My father stood up from the chair where he’d been flipping through a magazine without reading a single word. Gwen rushed toward me.

Across the room, I saw Olivia standing beside Mia, both of them watching me with a mix of hope and fear. It was obvious they’d been crying-the red eyes, the crumpled tissues in their hands.

“So?” Christian asked, his voice tight. “How is she? Is everything okay?”

The smile broke across my face again, impossible to hold back.

“Completely healthy,” I announced, my voice thick with emotion. “Perfect. Madeline was incredible.”

The relief that swept through the room was almost tangible. My mother sobbed, covering her face with her hands. Gwen shouted with joy. Joseph closed his eyes, murmuring something in Valentian that sounded like a prayer of gratitude.

Christian pulled me into a tight hug, pounding my back with enough force to knock the air out of my lungs.

“Congratulations, cousin,” he said, his voice rough. “Congratulations.”

Zoey was next, throwing her arms around me so hard she nearly crushed me, laughing and crying at the

same time.

“I knew everything would be fine!” she said. “I knew it! I’m so happy for you!”

My father hugged me after that-a firm, solid embrace-but when he pulled back, I saw the shine in his

eyes.

“Welcome to the club,” he said with a half-smile. “Being a father changes everything.”

“And Madeline?” my mother asked, stepping closer. “How is she?”

“Tired, but good,” I replied. “She was incredible, mom. You should’ve seen her. So strong. So brave. She was…” I couldn’t find the right words, so I just shook my head, still in awe.

Across the room, Clarisse took a hesitant step forward. She clearly wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure she had the right.

“Can I…” she began, her voice faltering. She tried again. “Can I see her? My granddaughter?”

“Everyone can,” I said, looking around at them all. “Come with me. I’ll take you to the nursery. You can see her through the glass.”

When we reached the nursery window, the nurse was already bringing Aurora closer, as if she somehow knew we’d arrived. She was wrapped in her pink blanket, a tiny white cap on her head, sleeping deeply after the effort of being born.

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“That’s her,” I whispered, pointing, my chest swelling with pride. “Aurora.”

A chorus of soft gasps and murmured reactions followed. Zoey squeezed Christian’s arm, grinning. My mother cried openly now, and my father slipped an arm around her shoulders. Joseph stepped closer to the glass, pressing his hand against it as if he could touch her through the barrier.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“Look at all that hair,” Gwen said, amazed. “And so dark!”

“Just like Madeline,” Olivia said with a smile. “She’s going to be beautiful when she grows up.”

Clarisse approached the glass slowly, almost reverently, looking at Aurora with a mix of awe, love, and something that looked like pain-the pain of lost years, of moments she hadn’t been there for Madeline.

“She’s perfect,” Clarisse whispered, her voice breaking. “So small. And you chose such a beautiful name. Aurora. A new dawn. Very fitting.”

I stood there, surrounded by my family and Madeline’s family, all of us staring at my daughter through the glass, and a wave of gratitude hit me so hard it nearly brought me to my knees. Gratitude for Madeline. For Aurora. For everyone there. For this perfect moment.

“I don’t know what it is with you Kensingtons,” Olivia said suddenly, still looking at Aurora, a small smile on her lips. “But those blue eyes… they’re unmistakable.”

I laughed, unable to contain the happiness overflowing from my chest.

“Yeah,” I agreed, looking at my daughter through the glass, remembering those eyes that had locked onto mine just minutes earlier-that unmistakable blue. “She has my eyes, doesn’t she?”

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