Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 6

"Of course I am. Don't you remember? You're my fiancée. And we're getting married soon."

Christian's words echoed in my head like a cracked bell. My heart was racing, blood pounding so loud in my ears it almost drowned out the giggles from the salesgirls around us.

Me? His fiancée? In what parallel universe did that make sense?

Before I could react, my boss appeared at my side, grinning like she'd just sold the Mona Lisa.

"Zoey, what an amazing sale! You really are the best salesperson in the shop!"

My brain was still trying to catch up.

"Huh?"

"The dress! That was one of the most expensive gowns we've ever sold! And all thanks to you." She winked and added brightly, "You can head out early today. You deserve it."

As my boss walked away, I just stood there frozen, staring at Christian like he'd just told me he was an alien. How was a gigolo I'd hired for one night now buying the most expensive wedding dress in the shop and talking about marriage? And worse—how could he even afford it?

A chill ran down my spine. The word scam flashed in my mind like a neon sign. Was he some kind of criminal? Had I just helped someone commit fraud?

"What are you playing at?" I whispered once we stepped away from the counter.

He only smiled—that smile far too perfect to be honest.

"Let's grab a coffee. I think we have a lot to talk about."

He turned and started walking, as if it was obvious I'd follow. And against all rational logic, I did. Maybe because I needed answers, or maybe… maybe because some pathetic part of me wanted to stretch this fantasy out just a little longer.

We sat down in a charming café in downtown Solara, one of those places where the price of a single macaron could buy you an entire batch at a neighborhood bakery. The kind of place Alex used to take me when he wanted to "impress" me at the start of our relationship.

Christian ordered a double espresso. I asked for a cappuccino because I needed sugar and milk to balance out the stress. I was beyond confused.

Once the waitress walked away, I leaned across the table.

"Alright. Spill. How the hell can you afford a wedding dress that costs more than a brand-new car?"

Christian chuckled, lifting his cup to his lips.

"I'm very good at my job."

The answer came with that teasing, double-edged tone of his.

I rolled my eyes but felt a knot twist in my stomach. Just how many women had he "worked" with to save up enough money for a gown like that? The image of him with other women bothered me more than it should have.

"Oh, please. I know you charge a lot for your nights, but that wasn't a dress. That was a financial transaction big enough to feed a whole neighborhood for months."

He smiled.

"Your problem is that you think small, sweetheart."

I huffed.

"My problem is that I think logically. Not that I care," I lied. "My commission will make up for the financial black hole that hiring you left in my account."

He just kept staring at me, wearing that infuriating air of mystery.

And then, out of nowhere, he changed the subject.

"Tell me about your ex."

My whole body froze. Something heavy settled in my chest—that familiar weight that always came whenever someone mentioned Alex.

"For what?"

He tilted his head slightly, like he was genuinely interested.

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