Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 641

Chapter 641

Nicholas’ POV

The coffee Dante handed me went completely cold in my hand. I never took a single sip.

1 just sat there staring at the dark liquid, unable to do anything but wait.

Waiting was torture.

Every minute dragged like an hour. Every second felt heavy enough to crush me.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each sharp sound almost designed to drive us insane.

Three hours.

Three hours since I’d arrived.

Four hours since Gwen had gone into surgery, according to Christian.

How long was a surgery supposed to last? Was it normal for it to take this long? Or did it mean something had gone wrong?

No one talked much.

At some point, Zoey stepped out to “make calls.” When she came back, her eyes were red.

Mia kept pacing, unable to sit still.

Dante was buried in his phone, typing nonstop. Probably handling some corporate crisis that couldn’t wait. Or maybe just using work to distract himself.

Christian hadn’t moved. He sat like a statue, staring at the opposite wall without really seeing it.

I understood that too well.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened.

A man in a white coat walked in. Older. Gray hair. Professional expression, but tired.

We all stood at the same time, like we were connected by an invisible wire.

“The Kensington family?” he asked, unnecessarily.

“Yes,” Christian replied immediately, stepping forward. “How is she?”

The doctor glanced at all of us before focusing on Christian

The surgery was successful, given the circumstances, he began.

Something in my chest loosened just slightly

“We were able to stabilize the major internal bleeding and repair the fracture in her left arm. There was

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also significant head trauma, but fortunately there’s no detectable brain hemorrhage on the scans

He paused, taking a breath.

“Her condition is serious, but stable at the moment. We’ve placed her in a medically induced coma to allow her body to rest and begin the healing process without additional stress. We’ll keep her that way for at least forty-eight hours before considering gradually waking her.”

“Is she going to be okay?” The question left my mouth before I could stop it.

The doctor looked at me with that careful expression medical professionals learn to wear.

“The next seventy-two hours are critical,” he said honestly. “But she’s young, healthy, and responded well to surgery. I’m cautiously optimistic.”

Cautiously optimistic.

Not a guarantee. But it was something.

“Can we see her?” Christian asked.

“Yes, but I’ll allow only one visitor at first,” the doctor replied. “Short visits. We don’t want to disturb her unnecessarily, even if she’s unconscious. Her body needs quiet to recover.”

“I understand,” Christian said. “May I go now?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Christian left with the doctor.

The door closed again, and the heavy silence returned.

I dropped back into my chair. My legs suddenly felt useless.

Serious, but stable.

Induced coma.

Seventy-two critical hours.

The words kept spinning in my head.

“She’s strong,” Zoey said softly, more to herself than to anyone else. ‘She’ll get through this.”

Mia finally sat down and buried her face in her hands.

Dante slipped his phone into his pocket and leaned back against the wall with a long exhale.

We stayed like that, each of us alone inside our own fear.

I didn’t know how much time had passed. Ten minutes, maybe twenty.

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The door opened again.

Christian walked back in. He looked slightly less tense, but still shaken.

“She’s…” he started, his voice faltering. “She’s stable. A lot of machines. A lot of tubes. But stable.”

Then he looked directly at me.

“Hey, Nick,” Christian said. “I convinced the doctor to let you go in for a quick visit too. Room three-

twelve. Left corridor.”

I blinked, caught off guard.

“Me? But… family-”

“You are family,” Zoey cut in firmly. “Go.”

I stood on unsteady legs.

“Thank you,” I muttered to Christian.

He just nodded.

I left the room and walked down the silent, sterile hallway. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic. Directional signs led me to room 312.

The door was slightly open.

I took a deep breath before pushing it all the way and stepping inside.

Nothing could have prepared me.

Gwen lay in the elevated hospital bed, surrounded by machines that beeped and hummed softly.

An IV line ran from her arm. A tube extended from her mouth, connected to a ventilator. Wires were attached to her chest, monitoring her heart.

But what hit me the hardest was her face.

Pale as wax. Purple and yellow bruises blooming around her left eye and along her jaw. A deep cut on her forehead covered with white gauze. Her lips were swollen and cracked.

She looked so small. So fragile. So broken.

Nothing like the vibrant, unstoppable woman I knew.

I walked closer slowly, as if any sudden movement might hurt her more.

I pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down heavily.

I took her hand as gently as I could. It was cold. Motionless.

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“Hey,” I whispered stupidly, like she could hear me. “It’s me. I’m here.”

Silence, except for the steady rhythm of machines breathing for her.

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“You’re going to be okay,” I promised, my voice breaking. “You just need to rest. You don’t have to worry about anything. Your family’s here. Zoey, Mia, Dante, Christian… they’re all waiting for you to wake up.”

I squeezed her hand lightly.

“I’m here too,” I continued. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay until you open your eyes and yell at me for being overly dramatic.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out broken and wet.

“Please come back to me,” I said quietly. “Please. Because I love you. I love you so much. And that’s all that matters, okay? Nothing else matters. Not where you come from. Not how much money you have. Not how different our worlds are.”

I brushed my thumb gently over her cold fingers.

“We’ll fight through all of it. Together,” I promised, even if part of me wasn’t sure how. “I swear we’ll figure it out. Just… just come back to me first.”

I stayed there in silence, holding her hand, listening to the machines breathe for her.

But even then, even with her lying there unconscious and hurt, even with my heart shattered inside my chest…

There was a small, persistent voice in the back of my mind.

If Renee had been right about the accident…

Then maybe she’d been right about the other thing too.

About Gwen buying my debt.

And when she woke up, because she would wake up, she had to wake up, I didn’t know how we were going to deal with that.

With the doubt. With the possible lie sitting between us.

But that was a problem for later.

Right now, I just needed her to open her eyes.

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