Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 606

Chapter 606

Gwen’s POV

“Your family?” I repeated, completely caught off guard.

“Of course,” Martina said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, turning from the stove to look at me directly. “Family gathered means family gathered. From both sides. You’ve actually never said much about yours. Is it a big family? I only remember you mentioning a brother…”

“And cousins,” Paula added quickly. “The ones who came to pick you up that time.”

I tried to hide my smile, knowing exactly why Paula remembered Dante so clearly.

“Well, yes,” I began, pulling out a chair and sitting at the big wooden table, choosing every word carefully. “My family is pretty big, actually. But very spread out. Half Valentian, half Verdanian, which makes gatherings… complicated.”

Bella had stopped eating her bread with jam and was staring at me with wide, curious eyes.

“My cousins Dante and Mia live in Florentia too, so we end up seeing each other pretty often.”

Often as in we work down the hall from each other, but that detail could stay to myself.

“My parents are separated. They were never married, actually. I just… happened. It was one of those situations where things happened, and then everyone went their own way.”

Martina nodded with genuine understanding, no hint of judgment in her expression. That gave me the courage to continue.

“My mom lives in a small beach town in Coral Crest with her husband,” I explained, absentmindedly stirring the coffee Martina had placed in front of me. “We see each other on special occasions. Birthdays. Christmas when we manage to coordinate. But we’re not as close as I wish we were. Life just took us in very different directions.”

Then came the part about my father, and I felt my throat tighten.

How exactly was I supposed to tell the truth? That he was in prison? That he had tried to pull a violent scheme against his own family? That he had kidnapped my sister-in-law Zoey and my nephew Matthew?

No. That was definitely not breakfast conversation.

“My dad lives in Verdania,” I said simply, keeping my tone as neutral and casual as possible. “He’s also Christian’s father. My older brother.”

“So you share a father,” Martina observed, clearly interested in the family dynamic,

“Yes, exactly,” I confirmed, feeling a little steadier now. “Christian is a few years older than I am. Even though we live in different countries, he’s in Verdania, we’ve always been very close. He lives there with Zoey, my sister-in-law, and my nephew Matthew.”

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I paused, wondering if there was anyone else important I should mention.

“And there’s Grandpa too, my paternal grandfather,” I added. “But he barely leaves his estate in Castoria anymore. Stubborn old man, but very happy.”

That earned a few laughs.

“Anyone else?” Paula asked, still organizing things around the kitchen but clearly listening to every word.

“A few more uncles and cousins scattered around,” I said vaguely. “Valentia, Verdania, a couple in London. The family’s big, just geographically complicated. But that’s basically it. Nothing too extraordinary or unusual.”

“That’s going to make a family dinner extremely complicated,” Paula said dryly. “Unless you happen to have a private jet hidden in some hangar we don’t know about.”

My stomach twisted at her completely innocent comment.

Because we did. Well, technically not me. Kensington. But close enough.

“No, no,” I said, maybe a little too quickly, forcing a light laugh. “I mean, realistically I’ll probably only be able to bring Dante and Mia. They live right here in Florentia, so that’s easy. But we’ll do the dinner anyway. It doesn’t have to be everyone to be special.”

Nick squeezed my hand gently over the wooden table, giving me that steady, reassuring smile that always calmed me down.

“So that’s why you speak Maravinese,” he said softly, like he’d just solved a mystery. “I remember you wondering about it once. That song on the car radio when we were driving back from your appointment

with Dr. Marshall…”

I laughed, the memory coming back clearly.

“That’s exactly it,” I said, shaking my head at how strange that moment had been.

Martina walked over again and set a plate of freshly baked cookies in front of me.

“Well,” she said, looking at me with that incredibly warm expression, “they must be wonderful people to have raised someone like you.”.

I smiled, but something tightened in my chest.

I couldn’t fully agree with that generous statement.

Yes, my mother was wonderful. She had been unbelievably strong raising me completely on her own. I admired her deeply for that.

But once I was pulled into the Kensington world, my mother had chosen not to involve herself too much in that new reality. She had remarried, built a life that looked nothing like mine,

And my father… well. He was not a good man. He never had been. And every year only proved that more

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clearly.

“If they can’t come for any reason,” Nick said gently, pulling me firmly back into the present, “we’ll make sure we’re family for them.”

I looked at him. At those honest green eyes. At the way he held my hand like it was the most natural and important thing in the world.

Something squeezed hard in my chest. But this time it felt good. Warm. Steady.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I murmured, already mentally calculating what would be nearly impossible logistics.

Martina turned back to the stove with renewed energy, grabbing her favorite wooden spoon and stirring something that smelled incredible.

“So,” she said, her tone bright with the unmistakable sound of someone already planning something elaborate, “next Saturday?”

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