Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 589

Chapter 589

Gwen’s POV

Renee looked at Paula, then at Nick, then at me. Finally, her gaze landed on Bella, still hiding behind me.

“I don’t want to cause a scene,” she said, lifting her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I really didn’t come here to ruin her birthday. I just wanted to see my daughter. On her birthday. I thought that was my right.”

“Your right,” Nick repeated, the word sharp and bitter. “You keep using that word like it still means something after four years of abandonment.”

“Nicholas,” Renee said, her voice growing steadier now, more controlled. “You and I are going to talk. Calmly. Like adults.”

She opened her expensive purse, pulled out a card, and held it out to him.

“I’m staying here,” she said, pointing to the hotel name printed on it. “Room twenty-three. Tomorrow. Anytime you want. But we are going to talk, Nick.”

Nick didn’t take the card. He just stared at it as if it were contaminated.

With a sigh, Renee set it down on the nearest table, beside the untouched cake.

“If you don’t show up,” she continued, her voice hardening into steel, “I’ll send my lawyers. And you I can afford very good lawyers, Nicholas. The best.”

The threat hung in the air like poisonous smoke.

know

Then Renee turned away. Her heels dug into the dirt as she walked toward the car parked near the entrance. She didn’t look back. She didn’t say goodbye to Bella. She simply left, just as dramatically as

she had arrived.

The sound of her engine fading down the road was followed by a heavy, uncomfortable silence.

Bella was still behind me, her small hands clutching my shirt. I could feel her trembling.

I knelt down to her level and turned so I could see her face. She was pale, her eyes wide and glossy with

unshed tears.

“Hey,” I said softly, brushing away the tear that had slipped free. “It’s okay now. She’s gone.”

“She… she really is my mom?” Bella asked, her voice so small I could barely hear it.

I looked at Nick, searching for guidance. He stepped closer and knelt beside us.

“She is,” he said gently, taking Bella’s tiny hand. “But you don’t have to worry about that right now, okay? Today is your day. Your birthday. And do you know what we still haven’t done?”

Bella shook her head.

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“We haven’t eaten the cake!” Nick said, forcing enthusiasm into his voice, but making it sound convincing. “And I bet your friends are hungry. How about we call everyone back?”

Bella hesitated, still clearly shaken.

“Can… can I cut the cake with you and Gwen?” she asked shyly.

“Of course you can,” I said immediately, squeezing her hand. “We’ll do it together.”

Nick went to get the children Martina had taken inside. They came back in a noisy wave of renewed energy, driven by the promise of cake strong enough to erase any lingering awkwardness.

Bella was settled back into her special chair, facing the chocolate cake. The candles were relit. But this time, when it was time to blow them out, she only closed her eyes briefly and blew. She didn’t make a wish out loud.

“Now let’s cut the cake!” Martina announced cheerfully, appearing with a large knife.

. But Bella shook her head.

“I want to cut it,” Bella said with determination. “The first slice. For Daddy and Gwen.”

Nick helped her hold the knife, his large hands guiding her small ones. Together, they cut a generous piece. Bella carefully placed it on a plate and held it out to us.

“You two,” she insisted. “Together.”

I looked at Nick. He looked at me.

There was something strange in his eyes now. Something I couldn’t fully name. Maybe distance. Maybe

worry.

We took the plate together, our fingers brushing briefly. Each of us picked up a fork. Then, in a moment that was half awkward and half endearing, we each took a bite from the same slice of cake.

The children around us laughed and clapped as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

Bella smiled. It wasn’t her bright, carefree smile from earlier. But it was a smile.

“Now everyone!” she shouted, and Martina immediately began handing out slices to the other kids, who rushed back into their usual happy chaos.

The party went on. The children played. They ate cake until their faces were smeared with chocolate. They ran and shouted and laughed the way children always do.

But something had changed.

All the openness Nick had shown earlier. The way his fingers had intertwined with mine. The meaningful looks. How close he had stayed. How attentive and present he had been. All of it was gone.

It wasn’t that he was cold or rude. He was just… distant.

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His answers were shorter. His glances didn’t linger. He kept a physical space between us that hadn’t been there before.

He was nervous, obviously. Worried. Still processing the shock of Renee showing up after four years. I understood that. I really did.

But there was something else. Something that unsettled me in a way I couldn’t quite put into words.

Why did Renee still affect him so much, even now? He had made it clear he didn’t want her anymore. That she had destroyed any chance they had when she walked away. So why had her presence shaken him this deeply?

Later, when the children were all playing tag and Martina was clearing away plates, I found Nick standing alone in a quiet corner. He was staring into nothing, his arms crossed, his jaw tight.

I approached slowly.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

He didn’t look at me right away. He kept staring at the horizon for a few more seconds before finally turning his head.

“I needed this weekend to be perfect,” he said, his voice tense, packed with barely restrained frustration.” Not just for Bella. For the inn too. We need to get back on our feet, fast. Every weekend matters. Every satisfied guest matters. Every good review matters. I can’t afford distractions or extra problems right

now.”

He paused and ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of pure stress.

“And now my ex-wife is here,” he went on, his voice hardening, “after four years of complete silence, demanding to see the daughter she abandoned. Threatening me with expensive lawyers. Throwing her money in my face.”

He finally looked straight at me, and I saw something burning in his green eyes. Anger. Fear. Exhaustion.

“No, Gwen,” he said firmly. “I’m not okay. Not at all.”

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