Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 58

Chapter 58

The wedding celebration stretched on until nightfall, when the last champagne flutes were emptied and guests finally began saying their goodbyes. My feet ached in the heels I had worn for hours, and my cheeks hurt from smiling for endless photographs.

“I think we survived,” Christian remarked as we climbed the mansion’s grand staircase.

“Hard to believe,” I replied, adjusting one of the rose petals threatening to come loose from my gown. I should have changed into another dress for the reception. But the customized gown had been such a success that Vivian insisted I keep it on until the very end.

The adrenaline of the day was wearing off, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion that spread through my muscles.

When we reached the hallway leading to the bedrooms, I stopped automatically. A new reality loomed before me: we were officially husband and wife. Where was I supposed to go now? Back to the guest room where my things were, or…

“I thought we could celebrate with a special bottle,” Christian suggested, breaking into my muddled thoughts. Unless you’re too tired?”

His tone was casual, but I caught something subtle in his eyes-an uncertainty I’d never seen in him before.

‘Actually, I’ll take that special bottle,” I said, trying to keep my voice light despite the thundering of my heart.

Christian smiled that rare, genuine smile he never showed in public-and led the way to the master suite. I hesitated for a second before following. It was the same suite we had stayed in during my first visit to the mansion, but now everything felt different. More permanent. More real.

When I stepped inside, I noticed someone-Vivian, or perhaps one of the maids-had scattered rose petals across the massive bed. The romantic gesture, clearly staged for a real honeymoon, made me flush instantly.

“Don’t mind that,” Christian said, catching my embarrassment. “Vivian tends to be… traditional.”

He moved to a small built-in bar and pulled out a dusty bottle.

“A special reserve, one of the vineyard’s best vintages,” he explained, studying the label with reverence. Grandfather keeps certain bottles from special years for important occasions.”

“Isn’t that too valuable to open now?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Christian shrugged, surprisingly relaxed.

“If not on our wedding night, then when?”

Our wedding. Two simple words that carried so much weight. I watched as he opened the bottle with the practiced precision of someone born doing it, the soft pop of the cork echoing in the quiet room.

“Tous,” he said, handing me a glass.

“To us,” I echoed, clinking mine against his, our eyes locking over the rim.

The wine was extraordinary, deep and complex in a way I had never tasted before. Or maybe it was just the night itself, everything conspiring to heighten the experience.

“This is… incredible,” I managed after the first sip.

Christian smiled, his eyes never leaving mine.

“First time I’ve ever seen you speechless, Zoey Bennett. Or should I say, Zoey Kensington?”

A shiver ran down my spine at the sound of my new surname. Strange how two words could change everything.

“I think I’ll need some time to get used to that,” I admitted. “A Kensington. All because I mistook you for a gigolo.

11

Christian laughed, low and genuine.

“Best misunderstanding of my life,” he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Imagine if you’d approached someone else at that party. We probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

I couldn’t help laughing too, remembering that chaotic night that, by some twist of fate, had brought us here.

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