Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 722

Chapter 722

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Chapter 722

Nick’s POV

The receptionist looked at the screen, then at me, and I saw that split second of assessment everyone makes when the urgency

isn’t their own.

“One moment, sir,” she said.

I felt Gwen’s hand in mine, firm, like she was keeping me grounded. I didn’t look at her. If I did, I’d break in a way I couldn’t

afford to.

The receptionist motioned to a nurse in the hallway. The nurse came quickly.

“I’ll take you to her,” she said.

I didn’t ask where. I just went.

The corridor felt too long. Every door we passed was a reminder that life inside those walls could change in seconds.

I tried to keep breathing.

The nurse stopped in front of a door. Checked a clipboard.

“She’s in here.”

I opened it before she could finish.

And for a moment, everything I’d been holding inside me hit the floor.

Bella was sitting on the bed with a tray in her lap and a small cup of gelatin trembling under the white light. A nurse stood beside her, watching with the calm of someone who had seen a thousand desperate parents and knew that sometimes the best thing you could offer was normalcy.

She looked… fine.

Hair tied back any which way. An oversized hospital gown. A smudge of gelatin at the corner of her mouth. Alert eyes. No visible marks. None of that broken child look I had been imagining in the worst parts of my mind.

Then she saw me.

Her face lit up like someone had flipped a switch.

“Daddy!”

She jumped off the bed before any adult could think to say careful and launched herself at me.

I caught her midair.

Her weight against my chest was the most real thing in the world.

I smelled her. Cheap hospital shampoo. Gelatin. Childhood.

“Baby…” I managed.

My voice broke halfway through.

Bella wrapped her arms around my neck with more force than a child her size should have.

“I knew you’d come,” she said into my shoulder, like it was obvious.

I closed my eyes for a second.

Chapter 2

When I opened them, I saw Gwen behind me. Pale. Eyes shining in a way I knew well. Relief tangled with guilt.

Bella turned toward her and held out a hand.

“Gwen!”

Gwen took a step forward, and Bella pulled.

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I saw the small, almost automatic gesture. Bella pulling Gwen into the same scene as me. family.

Making her part of it. Part of the

I lowered my daughter gently to the floor, still holding her at the waist.

“Sweetheart… are you okay?” I asked, the question heavy with things I didn’t know how to put into words. “What…”

I looked at the nurse in the room.

“What happened?”

The nurse by the bed stepped closer, keeping her tone neutral.

“Isabella came in for a general evaluation after an episode… of stress,” she explained. “But she’s doing great. Basic tests are normal. This was mostly precautionary.”

I felt air return to my lungs like I’d been holding it for minutes.

Gwen let out a small sound. Almost a prayer.

“Thank God,” she murmured.

I pulled Bella back against me, just to make sure she was real.

“You scared me,” I said, my forehead pressed into her hair.

“I didn’t mean to,” Bella replied quickly.

The door opened.

I lifted my head and saw a woman with a badge, the posture of someone who wasn’t there to offer gelatin.

A social worker.

Gwen’s body went rigid immediately.

The woman smiled, polite, but it was a procedural smile.

“Oh, you’re here. Good,” she said, looking straight at me. “Now that you’ve seen Isabella, can we have a quick word?”

I felt the word quick like a threat. But I took a breath and nodded.

“Bella, stay with Gwen for a minute, okay?” I asked.

Bella looked at Gwen and grabbed her hand.

“Come on,” she said, determined. “Do you want some gelatin, Gwen?”

Gwen tried to smile, and I saw the effort.

“Mm… it looks delicious,” she replied, slipping into the role with an elegance that wasn’t rehearsed.

I followed the social worker out of the room.

Walking behind her down the hall felt like heading toward a verdict.

Chapter 722

+25 Bonus

She didn’t speak until we reached the hospital cafeteria. A space that was too bright, smelling like burnt coffee and vending machine food.

We sat at a small table.

She opened a folder.

“Mr. Valemont,” she began.

I didn’t interrupt.

I knew that in this kind of conversation, every word was recorded somewhere, even when it wasn’t written down.

“The police received a report that your daughter’s physical safety might be at risk,” she said, direct.

My body went rigid.

“We were called in to follow up,” she continued. “You will receive all the information and details shortly, but the important thing is that… we arrived in time to prevent anything serious from happening.”

I held my breath.

The sentence hung in my mind like something sharp.

“And her mother?” I asked, and the sound of my own voice startled me. “Where is her mother?”

The social worker closed the folder calmly.

“The child’s mother is being… investigated,” she replied. “The process is ongoing,” she added, maintaining her professional tone. “But honestly, Mr. Valemont… I think it’s unlikely the mother will be able to regain custody.”

I went still.

My brain tried to understand, but my body understood first.

“What…” I started, and had to swallow before I could finish. “What does that mean?”

She looked at me like she was delivering news that changed someone’s life.

“It means you can take your daughter home today.”

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