Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 549

Chapter 549

Nicholas’ POV

The name ‘Christian’ echoed in my head. It was strange and unfamiliar, yet heavy with a weight I couldn’t

quite place.

“Can you go get her?” I asked my mother, doing my best to keep my voice steady. “I think she’s still with

Bella in the TV room.”

Martina nodded and hurried off, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I looked at Paula, who was watching me with an expression that probably mirrored my own.

“Christian,” I repeated quietly, more to myself than to her. “Who could that be?”

“A boyfriend?” Paula suggested, but her tone had lost its earlier sharpness. There was real uncertainty there now. “She has a daughter. Maybe he’s the child’s father.”

Or a brother. Or a cousin. Or a friend.

Or literally anyone from Gwen’s life that I knew nothing about, because the truth was, I knew absolutely nothing about her.

I left the kitchen and walked down the corridor toward the reception area. The small room at the front of the villa doubled as an administrative office, with an old wooden desk, a computer that had clearly seen better days, and the landline phone that rang occasionally with reservations or questions from potential

guests.

The phone was off the hook, the red light blinking, signaling that the line was still open and waiting.

I picked up the receiver and brought it to my ear.

“Hello,” I said, keeping my voice professional. “This is Nicholas Valemont, Valemont Estate. Who am I speaking with?”

“Gwen Parker,” a male voice replied. It was deep and controlled, with that quality that comes from someone used to giving orders and being obeyed. Polite, refined. “Christian.”

“I see,” I said, not entirely sure what to say next. “And you are…?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Not long, but long enough for me to realize my question had caught him off guard.

“What am I to her?” he repeated. And there was something new in his voice now. Not rudeness. More like genuine confusion, as if the question itself made no sense. “Gwen knows who I am. I don’t need to identify myself beyond that.”

At that moment, the lights in the reception flickered.

The computer let out an irritated beep as the power wavered.

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I looked up, frowning. The snowstorm outside must be getting worse, affecting the power lines. It wasn’t uncommon for us to lose electricity during heavy snow, though the generator usually kicked in quickly.

“I tried calling her cell phone,” Christian said, and now there was clear frustration in his voice. “Several times. She’s not answering. That’s why I called the inn. She mentioned the signal there isn’t great.”

The signal here was bad, yes. Especially with a snowstorm. But it wasn’t nonexistent. Some carriers worked better than others. Even with weak signal, at least one call should have gone through.

The truth was, Gwen probably couldn’t answer her phone because she didn’t remember the passcode to

unlock it.

But how could I explain that without revealing the entire complicated situation?

The lights flickered again. This time harder. The fluorescent glow stuttered violently, throwing strobe-like shadows across the walls.

“The signal really is unreliable here,” I said, trying to sound natural. “But the truth is, sir… Miss Parker had a small… incident.”

“An incident?” Christian asked, and there was something different in his voice now. Urgency. Real

concern. “What kind of incident?”

“We’re trying to get in touch with a family member,” I said. I couldn’t just explain everything without knowing who he was. He would have to identify himself, whether he wanted to or not.

“Brother,” he said finally. “I’m her brother. What happened to Gwen? Is she okay?”

“She’s okay, but…”

The lights flickered one last time, far more violently now. The entire building seemed to shudder with the power surge. The computer let out a loud beep, its screen flashing distorted images before fading to

black.

And then, suddenly, everything went dark.

The lights went out as if someone had flipped a massive switch. The low, constant hum of electricity that was always there, so constant you only noticed it when it vanished, disappeared instantly. The phone in my hand let out a sharp, piercing hiss before going completely dead.

“Hello?” I said into the receiver, pressing it hard against my ear. “Sir? Hello?”

Nothing.

Just dead silence.

“Hello?” I tried again, louder this time. “Christian? Can you hear me?”

It was completely useless.

With the power outage, the landline was down too. The line was dead.

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I slammed the receiver back into the cradle harder than necessary.

“Shit,” I muttered.

Of course the power had to go out now. Of course.

Right when her brother was calling.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. It wasn’t pitch black. Faint light filtered in through the windows, the snow outside reflecting a ghostly, bluish glow that allowed vague outlines to take shape. Furniture shadows. Doorframes. Windows.

I heard several quick footsteps in the hallway and voices overlapping.

Martina called my name, her voice thick with the maternal worry she always had when something went wrong. Paula asked about the generator. A few guests murmured in confusion in the main hall.

And then another voice that was closer and clearer, right behind me.

“That call… was it for me?”

I turned sharply.

Gwen stood in the doorway of the reception area, her silhouette framed by the faint light spilling in from the hallway window. In the darkness, I could only make out the outline of her body, the shape of her loose hair falling over her shoulders.

But I could hear the expectation and hope in her voice.

“It was,” I confirmed, running a hand through my hair. “Christian. He called for you.”

I saw her silhouette stiffen.

It was subtle, but it was there.

“Christian,” she repeated, and her voice sounded… strange. Like she was testing the name on her tongue. Searching for recognition.

I took a step toward her, my eyes finally adjusted enough to see more than just shadows. I could make out the faint reflection of light in her eyes now.

“Does that name sound familiar?”

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