Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52

The mansion felt different that night. Soft lights created a warm atmosphere in the main dining hall, a room rarely used for such intimate gatherings. The long, dark wooden table was set with the family’s finest porcelain, crystal glasses sparkled beneath the chandelier, and discreet arrangements of fresh flowers completed the scene.

My family looked almost comical in their awe. Matthew discreetly snapped photos on his phone while my mother ran her fingers over the silver cutlery as if afraid she might break it. Annabelle, on the other hand, had adapted to the luxurious environment with surprising ease-especially after discovering she would be seated next to Marcus during dinner.

“Will your grandfather be joining us?” I asked Christian, who was double-checking the final details with the butler.

“The doctor cleared him for dinner.” He checked his watch. “He should be here any moment.”

As if summoned by our words, the dining room doors opened and Joseph entered, leaning on a cane. Even so, he looked far better than the last time I’d seen him in the hospital-the color had returned to his face, and his eyes gleamed with excitement.

“What a beautiful family!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms.

Christian immediately moved to assist him, guiding him toward the head of the table. Joseph, however, insisted on greeting each guest first, lingering especially with my parents.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, it is an honor to welcome you to our home,” he said, clasping my mother’s hands warmly. “Zoey is a precious jewel. We are all delighted to welcome her into the Kensington family.”

My mother looked on the verge of melting from emotion. My father, ever more reserved, nodded with a genuine smile.

“The pleasure is ours, Mr. Kensington. And please, call me Robert.”

“Only if you call me Joseph.” The Valentian’s smile was contagious. “In Valentia, the parents of the bride and groom aren’t just guests-they become one family.”

Once everyone was seated-with Joseph at one end of the table and my father at the other, a placement I realized was deliberate-the servers brought out the first course.

“Porcini mushroom risotto,” Joseph explained. “My late wife Sophie’s recipe.”

Dinner unfolded in a surprisingly relaxed atmosphere. Joseph was a natural host, guiding the conversation with charming stories about Valentia, the vineyard’s history, and occasionally, embarrassing anecdotes from Christian’s childhood-ones that made my future husband roll his eyes with a resigned smile.

“He was only seven years old,” Joseph narrated dramatically, “when he decided he wanted to make his own wine. He picked the ripest grapes from the vineyard, crushed them in a bucket, and hid the mixture under his bed to ‘ ferment’!”

Laughter echoed around the table. Even Christian, who had clearly heard the story many times, smiled faintly at the corner of his mouth.

“The smell was discovered only three days later,” Joseph went on. “The housekeeper thought a dead animal was under the bed!”

“In my defense,” Christian cut in, raising his glass of wine, “my methods have improved considerably since then.”

Joseph winked at me.

“And now he produces some of the best wines in the world.”

I watched the obvious affection between grandfather and grandson, and felt a pang in my chest. The love between them was genuine, undeniable. How could I not be moved by it?

My mother smiled at the exchange, her expression softened by the warmth of the evening.

“It’s wonderful to see a family with such strong traditions,” she said, glancing fondly at my father. “Robert and I always tried to build that with our children too.”

“And you succeeded,” Joseph replied kindly. “Zoey is an extraordinary young woman. You must be very proud.”

My father nodded, raising his glass in a silent toast.

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