Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 637

Chapter 637

Renee’s POV

I heard it before I saw it.

Metal crumpling. Glass exploding. That unmistakable, sickening sound of a serious crash.

I glanced at the rearview mirror on instinct.

The Audi had veered off the road. It was spinning out of control. Kicking up clouds of dust. Slamming into something I couldn’t clearly see.

And then it stopped.

Crooked. Completely crushed. Still.

My foot moved to the brake before I consciously decided to.

The car slowed abruptly. I skidded slightly before regaining control.

I came to a full stop on the uneven shoulder, hands clamped around the steering wheel so tightly it hurt, staring into the mirror.

Smoke was beginning to curl up from the Audi’s crumpled hood.

No.

I didn’t want this.

I didn’t want her actually hurt. Not like that. Not that bad.

I just wanted… I just wanted her off the road for a few minutes. To delay her. To get to the estate first. To tell my version before she could.

That was it. Just a stupid game.

A reckless race over who got there first.

I only sped up when she tried to pass me. I only held my pace so she couldn’t get around me.

I didn’t think about the truck coming the other way.

I didn’t think about the fact that she would have literally nowhere to go once she was trapped in the opposite lane.

I didn’t think about consequences.

My breathing turned shallow and uneven. My hands were visibly shaking on the wheel.

I looked forward through the windshield. The road stretched ahead in a nearly straight line. I could keep driving. No one had seen what really happened.

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I could just go to the estate. Tell Nick everything exactly the way I’d planned. Finish what I came to do.

Gwen would be fine. Someone would stop. People always stop for accidents like that. An ambulance would come. Hospitals would take care of her.

She had money. The best doctors. The best recovery possible.

She didn’t need me there.

My foot hovered over the gas pedal again.

Ready to move. To leave.

But I looked in the mirror one more time.

The Audi was still there. Twisted. Smoking at the side of the road.

“Shit,” I muttered, punching the steering wheel in frustration.

Before I could overthink it, before I could rationalize my way out of it, I was making a dangerous U-turn in

the middle of the road.

I drove back slowly this time, stopping several yards before the wreck.

I turned off the engine and stepped out on legs that didn’t feel steady.

The truck had stopped too, of course. The driver, a large middle-aged man, was already running toward the Audi with his phone pressed to his ear.

“There’s someone inside!” he was shouting to whoever was on the other end. “Yes, yes, state highway. kilometer-” He looked around frantically for a sign. “Send an ambulance, now!”

I approached slowly. Hesitant. Almost reluctant to see what my stupidity had caused.

The Audi was completely destroyed on the driver’s side. The window shattered into a thousand pieces. The metal twisted and crushed grotesquely. The car was partially tipped, braced awkwardly against a thick tree that had absorbed part of the impact.

And through the jagged opening where the window had been, I could see her clearly.

Gwen.

Unconscious. Or dead. I couldn’t tell from where I stood.

Her head hung at an unnatural angle. Blood ran freely down her pale face. Too much blood. Way too

much.

My stomach lurched violently. I had to swallow hard against the bile rising in my throat.

“Did you see what happened?” the truck driver asked urgently, hurrying toward me.

He looked pale. Shaking almost as much as I was.

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“I…” I started, but my voice failed the first time. I cleared my throat. “I saw everything. She tried to overtake me recklessly. Way too fast. The truck came out of the curve suddenly. She swerved, but she completely lost control.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not technically.

I just conveniently left out the crucial part where I deliberately kept her trapped in the oncoming lane by accelerating with her.

“I already called an ambulance,” the truck driver said quickly, dragging a large, trembling hand over his sweaty face. “My God. I didn’t see her in time. She came around that curve so fast and I just… I couldn’t do anything.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I cut in quickly, almost defensively. Because it really hadn’t been.

Not his.

The fault was entirely mine.

I looked at Gwen again through the jagged opening where the window had been.

She hadn’t moved for even a fraction.

“Is she breathing?” I asked, hating how weak my voice sounded.

The driver stepped closer to the wreck, trying to see without touching anything.

“I think so,” he said, his voice thick with awful uncertainty. “But there’s so much blood. So much. I can’t even tell where it’s coming from.”

I stood there completely useless. Just watching.

Other cars began stopping. People getting out, approaching with curiosity and concern. Someone claiming to have basic medical training cautiously assessing whether it was safe to move her.

The unanimous decision was no. Absolutely not. Better to wait for professionals.

I stayed planted there for the next fifteen endless minutes.

Watching. Doing nothing helpful.

Waiting while time dragged like a punishment.

Actively trying not to think that this was my fault.

Because it wasn’t. Not completely. Not entirely.

She had been driving dangerously fast. Trying to pass recklessly.

I was just… there. Wrong place. Wrong time.

The ambulance finally arrived, sirens slicing through the tense silence.

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Paramedics jumped out with professional urgency. Heavy equipment. Competent hands that actually knew what they were doing.

They forced open what was left of the driver’s door with specialized tools, working carefully.

A rigid cervical collar. Quick checks of vital signs. Numbers and medical terms shouted back and forth.

I only caught fragments.

“- blood pressure dangerously low…”

severe head trauma…”

“- possible internal bleeding…”

“- stabilize before moving…”

Eventually, they managed to extract her from the car. Carefully. Painfully slow.

They placed her limp body onto a stretcher.

That was when I saw her fully.

Her entire face covered in fresh and drying blood. Deep cuts. Dark bruises already blooming beneath her

pale skin.

One arm hung at a completely wrong angle. Clearly broken.

Her expensive clothes torn and soaked with blood, dirt, glass.

She looked… small. Fragile. Vulnerable.

Nothing like the arrogant, powerful Gwen who had thrown me out of her luxurious office barely an hour

ago.

Something tightened painfully in my chest.

Guilt?

Maybe.

Probably,

But then I forced myself to remember.

She had refused me. Thrown me out like trash. Chosen to protect her carefully constructed lies.

She was stealing my ex-husband. Playing perfect family with my daughter. Buying everything with obscene money and power.

That didn’t just disappear because she got hurt. Accidents happen.

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The paramedics lifted the stretcher and hurried toward the ambulance.

“Does anyone here know her?” one of them called out loudly, scanning the small crowd. “We need to notify family immediately.”

“No,” I lied without hesitation, looking him straight in the eye. “I’ve never seen that woman before in my

life.”

He nodded quickly and climbed into the ambulance.

The back doors slammed shut with a metallic finality.

The siren wailed again, loud and piercing.

And then she was gone, disappearing down the road.

The police arrived shortly after. Standard questions. Clipboards. Calm voices.

I gave them my carefully edited version.

“She tried to pass recklessly. The truck appeared unexpectedly in the curve. She swerved and lost

control.”

Technically true.

Just not the whole truth.

Eventually, they let me go. No suspicion.

I walked back to my car slowly and got in, closing the door with a dull thud.

I sat there for a moment, staring at the empty stretch of road ahead.

Montelira was still there, waiting.

Nick was still there. Oblivious.

Gwen was on her way to a hospital unconscious. Unable to tell her version first.

I started the engine. My hands weren’t shaking anymore.

I glanced one last time in the rearview mirror at the ugly smear of twisted metal and glittering glass still being cordoned off by police.

I took a deep breath and drove forward.

Because Gwen Kensington had made her choice.

And now I was making mine..

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Chapter 631

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