Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 55

Chapter 55

The silence of the room clashed with the chaos inside my mind. The morning of the wedding had finally arrived, and I sat before the mirror, staring at my reflection as if she were a stranger. The white dress-the very one Christian had bought months ago-fell in soft waves around me, the delicate fabric catching the light that streamed in through the wide windows.

“You look absolutely stunning!” my mother exclaimed as she walked in, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “My daughter, a bride.”

I tried to smile, but even to me it felt forced. It wasn’t nerves I felt or at least not the usual kind of nerves a bride was supposed to feel. It was something more complex, a mix of guilt, anxiety, and, surprisingly, a strange sense of anticipation.

“Wow!” Annabelle stopped in the doorway, jaw dropping. “Someone’s going to have a heart attack when they see you in that dress, and I’m not talking about Joseph.”

“Annie!” my mother scolded, though she couldn’t hide a smile.

They bustled around me with excitement, adjusting the veil, commenting on my hairstyle, giving opinions about jewelry and makeup. An entire team of professionals had been in earlier, transforming me into the most glamorous version of myself I had ever seen.

“Could I have a moment?” I finally asked, needing to breathe. “Just a few minutes alone.”

My mother hesitated, worry flickering across her face.

“Are you sure, darling?”

“Yes, please.” I forced a reassuring smile. “I’ll be ready to go down in fifteen minutes, I promise.”

Reluctantly, they left, Annabelle throwing me one last meaningful look before closing the door.

Alone, I let the smile fall away. I stood and walked to the window, gazing down at the gardens below, where white chairs had been arranged in perfect rows. An improvised altar stood decorated with fresh flowers, the pergola wrapped in climbing vines and delicate lights that would glow once the sun began to set.

It was perfect. Like a dream.

A dream I had once imagined living with Alex.

Alex. Strange how his name now felt so distant, almost belonging to another life. I closed my eyes, trying to summon the pain, the hurt, that raw sense of betrayal that had once been my constant companion. But it was like trying to hold sand in my hands-it slipped away, disappearing.

“You were always so plain,” Elise had told me on that fateful day. “You never had anything special.”

I looked at my reflection again. The woman staring back at me didn’t look plain. She didn’t look ordinary. She looked… transformed. And not just by the dress, the makeup, or the hairstyle.

There was something in my eyes-a strength that hadn’t been there before. A resolve born in these past months, among ancient vineyards and midnight deals, among stolen kisses in dark cellars and meaningful glances over wine glasses.

It wasn’t Alex who filled my thoughts in the quiet hours of the night anymore. It was Christian. His rare but genuine smile, the vulnerability he sometimes let slip, his devotion to his grandfather, his passion for his family’s legacy.

The thought hit me like a physical blow: I was developing feelings for Christian Kensington. Real, deep, dangerous feelings.

“Oh no,” I whispered to the empty room. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”

A soft knock at the door broke my moment of realization. Thinking it was Annabelle again, I called out without turning around, “I just need one more minute, please.”

“Not even a moment for an old friend?”

The voice froze my blood. I spun around sharply to find Elise standing in the doorway, elegant in a teal dress that looked like it had been made for her. Her hair was perfectly styled, her makeup flawless-the picture of sophistication that had always made me feel inadequate beside her.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.

She stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. In her hand, a glass of red wine swayed dangerously as she moved through the room, her eyes scanning every detail.

“Our relationship is none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is.” She smiled-a cold smile that reminded me of Isabelle. “Because when this inevitably blows up-and it will-Elite PR will be the one cleaning up the mess. And frankly, I’ve got better things to do.”

I stepped back, needing distance.

“Elise, please leave.”

Something hardened in her expression.

“You never learn, do you? Always thinking you belong in places you don’t, with people way above your level.”

“Get out!” I repeated, my voice sharper this time.

Elise shrugged, deliberately casual.

“Fine. But remember what I said when he leaves you.” She turned as if to go, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Oh, and one more thing…”

The movement was so fast I had no time to react. With one fluid flick of her wrist, Elise threw the contents of her glass straight at me. The red wine splattered across my dress like a bloodstain, seeping through the pristine white fabric, trickling down from the bodice to the skirt.

I froze, horrified, staring at the disaster spreading across my gown.

“Oops,” Elise said with mock innocence. “Looks like you’ll be needing a new dress. Too bad there’s only…” she checked her watch theatrically, “twenty minutes until the ceremony.”