Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 652

Chapter 652

Gwen’s POV

Going back to work had to happen slowly.

Much slower than I wanted. Infinitely slower than I was used to.

The first week after I was discharged, I could barely sit at my desk for more than two hours before I had to lie down. My ribs protested every breath. The immobilized arm made everything harder. The fatigue came in unpredictable waves that hit without warning.

Frustrating wasn’t even a strong enough word.

But by the second week, something shifted.

My mind was finally sharp again, even if my body refused to keep up.

And that was torture.

I could think clearly. Analyze. Plan. Strategize. My brain was back to full power. But physically executing anything? Impossible without pain.

Christian tried to send me home three times just on Monday.

“You are literally pale,” he argued, standing in my office doorway with a worried look. “Go home and rest

“I am resting,” I lied shamelessly, typing up a report one-handed. “I’m sitting. See? Resting.”

He rolled his eyes.

‘Gwen…”

“Christian,” I mimicked in the same tone. “I’m fine. And I have work to do.”

Work was a generous euphemism for the obsession slowly taking over.

Because besides handling normal Kensington operations, which Mia and Dante had heroically kept afloat during my absence, I had started something else.

Something personal Something critical.

A private investigation.

I hired the best private investigator money could buy. Not through the company. Through quiet personal

contacts

Alexander Ferguson was former police and former military intelligence. Now he specialized in delicate cases. The kind for clients who needed results and didn’t ask too many questions about methods.

Our first meeting took place in his office, a small, discreet space in a less touristy neighborhood of

Florentia.

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“I need everything on this woman,” I said without preamble, handing him a folder with the basic information I had already gathered. “Everything. Finances, relationships, movements over the last six months, communications. Absolutely everything.”

Alexander flipped through the file calmly, his expression neutral and professional.

“May I ask the context?” he asked after a moment.

“She’s trying to take custody of a child from her father,” I explained, my voice steady. “Using fabricated claims and lies. I need ammunition to destroy her case.”

He nodded once. He understood immediately what kind of job this was.

“How much time do I have?”

“Less than I’d like,” I admitted. “The preliminary hearing is in three weeks. Anything you can get before then helps.”

“Understood,” he said simply. “I’ll start today.”

And he did.

Over the next few days, reports started coming in.

First, financial.

Renee had recently moved into an apartment far more expensive than she should have been able to afford. High rent. High condo fees. Decor that, based on receipts Alexander somehow obtained, had cost a small fortune.

Where did the money come from?

That part was still under investigation.

Second, movements.

Security footage from various businesses showed Renee in interesting places in the days leading up to the fire. A hardware store. A gas station buying fuel cans. Meeting with an unidentified man in a secluded parking lot.

Circumstantial. Not definitive proof.

But interesting.

Third, communications.

Alexander had contacts who could… access phone records Legally questionable? Probably. Admissible in court? Not directly. Useful for steering the investigation? Absolutely,

Frequent calls to a number registered under a shady debt collection company. Deleted messages that had been recovered, containing suspicious conversations about “solving the problem” and “securing a

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better future for Bella.”

All of it was interesting. All of it useful.

But nothing definitive.

Until today.

I was reviewing distribution contracts when my private phone rang.

It was Alexander.

I answered immediately.

“Did you find something?” I asked without bothering with hello.

“I did,” he said, and I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. “Something big. I need you to come to my office. Now, if possible. This is something you’ll want to see in person.”

My heart kicked into a faster rhythm.

“I’m on my way,” I said, already grabbing my purse with my good hand.

The drive to his office felt endless, even though it was barely twenty minutes.

When I walked in, Alexander was sitting behind his desk with his laptop open, papers spread out everywhere, wearing the expression of a man who had just hit the investigative jackpot.

“Sit,” he instructed, turning the laptop toward me.

I lowered myself into the chair and looked at the screen.

Emails. Message exchanges. Scanned documents.

I started reading.

And the more I read, the wider my eyes got.

“This is…” I began, but couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Exactly what it looks like,” Alexander confirmed with a satisfied smile. “Completely solid.”

I kept reading, absorbing every devastating detail.

This changed everything.

Absolutely everything.

“Can I use this?” I asked urgently. “Legally? In court?”

“With minor adjustments to how it was obtained and presented? Yes,” he assured me. “I have a contact

who can ‘discover’ this through official channels. Clean. Legal. Admissible.”

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I leaned back in the chair, my mind racing as I processed the implications.

Renee hadn’t just lied.

She had done something infinitely worse.

And now we had proof.

“How long until we have the official version?” I asked.

“Two days,” Alexander replied. “Three at most.”

“Do it,” I ordered. “And I want copies of everything. Multiple. Stored somewhere safe.”

“It’s already in motion,” he said.

I left his office in a strange, almost surreal state. Part of me was euphoric. The other part was still catching up.

I got into my car and started the engine, but I didn’t pull away right away.

I needed to tell Nick, immediately.

I grabbed my phone and dialed his number.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Gwen? Is everything okay?”

I smiled despite the gravity of it all.

“Everything’s more than okay,” I said. “Better than okay, actually.”

“What happened?”

“We found something.”

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