Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 713

Chapter 713

Renee’s POV

“What?” he replied, too quickly. “No one sent me… I saw your profile and… and…”

I tilted my head, just enough for him to understand what I was hearing. And judging.

“You’re cute, you know that?” I said with a small smile. “But you don’t know how to lie.”

He blinked.

I finished, unhurried, like someone who had already reached the end of the road.

“It was Kensington, wasn’t it?”

“Who?” he shot back, feigning confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I let the silence do its work.

Men always give themselves away in the space between the question and the answer. In that space, the body decides.

And his body had decided badly.

Of course it was.

Of course it was Gwen.

For some reason, she erased the real Bella. And that was exactly why she was dangerous. Because love made Bella obey without fear. Made my daughter trust. Made my daughter choose.

And choice was the one luxury I could not allow that child to have.

And I saw, even more clearly, what came after the escape.

If Bella had said anything…

I would tighten control.

I should have tightened control sooner.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, and this time I let the sweetness drop. “Are you recording? Are you planning to expose me?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

His gaze slipped toward his pocket, but I was faster. His hand tried to block me, but I was already moving with clean impatience.

“Give it to me,” I ordered.

He hesitated for half a second.

I didn’t give him time. I shoved my hand into his jacket pocket, felt the phone, and yanked it out.

Black screen. Powered off. As per the rules.

So it wasn’t that.

If he wasn’t here to film me…

I slowly lifted my head.

Oh, damn.

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They set up a sting.

I saw the whole setup in a second. A “client” inside my house. The child locked in her room. A report. Police arriving. Gwen Kensington showing up afterward with the smile of someone who’s right.

Official evidence.

Another headline.

This time, not kidnapping. This time, negligent mother. Inappropriate environment. Danger.

I felt the blood rush.

“Get out of my house,” I growled, my voice loud.

He stepped back.

“But I paid and…”

I didn’t argue. I just walked to the bedroom vanity while he followed me with his eyes, confused, still trying to understand the shift in temperature.

I went straight to the vanity.

Third drawer.

I pulled out the organizer slowly, like I was repeating an old habit.

The false bottom gave under the pressure of my finger. The click was almost silent.

The pistol was there, exactly where it should be. Wrapped and ready.

I needed to keep it.

I was too exposed bringing men into my home, and a little security was necessary.

I heard him suck in a breath.

When I turned back, the gun was already pointed at him.

His transformation was immediate. Eyes wide, hands rising slowly, palms open like I’d set him on fire.

“No, wait…” he tried, his voice gone.

“Get out of my house now,” I repeated, calm and clear. “Or I will use this and claim self defense.”

He swallowed hard.

“Okay… okay,” he said, his posture shrinking in panic. “I’m going.”

“Go.”

He did. Backed up two steps, then turned and hurried toward the hall.

I stayed still, tracking every movement, until I heard the door shut and the sound of his footsteps on the statts. Heavy. Fading like he had never been there at all.

I exhaled in relief.

I put the gun back in the false bottom with the same calm I’d taken it out with, replaced the organizer, and closed the drawer. No one likes a messy house.

Then I walked down the hallway with contained urgency and unlocked Bella’s bedroom. She was on the rug, toys scattered

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around her, looking at the door with curiosity.

“Come on,” I said, pulling her by the arm.

“Ow,” she complained, more surprised than hurt.

“Let’s play,” I said, already leading her to the living room.

She followed, confused, trying to keep up with her short legs.

I turned on the game console, grabbed the controller, and shoved it into her hands like that could fix anything.

“Listen, sweetheart,” I said, lowering my voice to something maternal. “If anyone comes here and asks anything about Mommy’s visitors… you’re going to deny it, okay?”

Her eyes widened.

“Deny what?”

“You’re going to say you don’t know anything,” I explained with forced patience, “You can’t tell them you stay in your room. Or that someone comes here at night.”

She frowned.

“But that’s lying,” she said, her honesty irritating like a stain. “And lying is bad.”

I smiled.

The kind that doesn’t reach your eyes.

“You know what’s worse?” I asked.

She swallowed.

“Being grounded,” I continued. “No TV. No games…”

Her mouth trembled.

I leaned in so she’d understand this wasn’t a game.

“And never seeing your father again.”

Her face changed instantly,

Fear.

The right kind of fear.

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

She shook her head hard, eyes filling with tears.

I pressed the controller into her hand.

“Then do what I told you.”

She took a short breath, like she was trying to be brave.

And that was when the intercom buzzed.

Bella looked at me, scared.

I rested my hand on her head for a second.

3/4

“Perfect,” I whispered near her ear. “Now do what I told you.”

I walked to the intercom and answered without letting my voice shake.

“Yes?”

On the other end, the voice was firm.

“Montelira Police Department. We received a report.”

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Chata 74

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