Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 749

Chapter 749 Extra 18

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Chapter 749 Extra 18

Zoey’s POV

The first thing I felt was Christian’s mouth on my shoulder.

A slow, warm kiss. Like he was waking up one specific part of my body before the rest of me caught up.

“Happy thirty, my love,” he murmured, his voice carrying that smile I could hear even with my eyes still closed.

I shifted in bed, half-asleep, pulling the sheet up like I could bargain with the world for five more minutes.

“I thought this was supposed to be a milestone…” I mumbled, my face still soft with sleep. “Like everything was going to change after thirty.”

Christian pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

“And it won’t?”

I cracked one eye open, dramatic like I always was when I wanted to sound more serious than I felt.

“In a way, it will,” I admitted. “We’re having another baby. We’re moving to Bologna. And you’re still over there… being all mysterious about something.”

He raised a brow, playing innocent.

“Mysterious?”

“Mysterious,” I confirmed, closing my eye again. “But at the same time… nothing’s changed.”

Christian went quiet for a second. I felt his hand slide along my arm, tracing my skin lazily like he had all the time in the world.

I took a deep breath and finished, because it was the whole truth:

“Because I still wake up next to the man I love. And that feels like… home.”

He didn’t answer right away. He just leaned in, resting his forehead against mine, like that alone said everything.

“And you’ll keep waking up next to me for the rest of our lives,” he said softly.

I laughed, but it came out small. Sleepy. Full.

“Look at you,” I teased. “Talking like you signed a lifetime contract.”

“I did,” he said simply. “The day I chose you.”

Something inside me tightened in a way I didn’t even know how to name. Maybe it was love. Maybe it was that quiet kind of certainty that holds everything together.

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I reached up and touched his face.

“You didn’t sleep?” I asked.

“I did,” he lied way too easily.

“Christian.”

He sighed, giving in.

“Okay. I slept a little. I just… stayed up watching you.”

I made a face, pretending to be offended.

“That’s creepy.”

“That’s my job,” he corrected, leaning in to kiss me again. This time on the lips. Slow. Soft. “Protecting my home.”

I opened my eyes for real this time.

The Bologna apartment still had that mix of “new” and “us.” We hadn’t been there long, but we’d already left traces. A toiletry bag in the wrong place. One of his shirts hanging over a chair. My bottles lined up on the bathroom counter like I was setting up my own little skincare lab.

Christian pulled back slightly.

“I have a gift,” he said.

I blinked.

“Another one?”

He smiled like he knew exactly what that word did to me.

“This one’s for your birthday.”

I laughed.

“Okay. I’m not the one who’s going to say no.”

Christian reached over and grabbed the tablet from the nightstand.

My first instinct was that he was about to show me a picture. Maybe a video of Matt. Something sweet he’d hidden just to make me cry.

Instead, he opened a file.

A document that looked way too organized to be casual.

“Read it,” he said.

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I sat up in bed, pulling the sheet around my waist, and took the tablet from his hands.

The first thing I saw was the title: Kensington Beauty.

I read it slowly, like my brain needed time to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. To process the images. The words.

“Kensington… Beauty?” I repeated.

Christian watched my reaction closely, like he was ready to adjust anything if I either burst into excitement or completely panicked.

“I was… bored,” he said. And the way he said it was almost funny, because “bored’ coming from Christian sounded like a serious confession. “Like I’d reached the limit of what Kensington could offer me.”

I kept looking at the file.

There were pages. Notes. Ideas. A whole roadmap sitting in that tablet.

Christian leaned back against the pillows beside me.

“Premium line,” he started, his tone shifting into business mode. “Organic line. A more accessible line with Valemont. Juice. Everything.”

I looked up at him.

“And then I showed you that you could just go skydiving whenever you want instead of complaining

about routine,” I teased.

Christian laughed.

“You showed me something else,” he corrected. “You showed me we’ve been sitting on a goldmine in our own backyard. Backyards.”

My heart skipped.

“The grape,” I whispered, already feeling excitement rise before logic could catch up.

Christian nodded.

“You made me see grapes differently.”

I frowned slightly, trying to connect the dots.

“Skincare?” I asked, half laughing, half in disbelief.

“Exactly.”

I let out a short laugh.

“I never would’ve imagined you going in that direction.”

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Christian turned to me, his expression softening.

“I’m not exactly the one going in that direction,” he said. “I mean… I want the challenge. I want the adrenaline of building something new, understanding how it works, building a team, turning it into a

success.”

He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice dropped.

“But the passion… that’s yours.”

My chest tightened.

“Christian…”

“The business… is yours,” he finished.

I went quiet for a second, because I could feel both the weight and the freedom of that at the same time.

“Mine?” I repeated, like I needed to taste the word. “You’re giving me a cosmetics line under the Kensington name?”

Christian tilted his head slightly.

“If you want it.”

A nervous laugh almost slipped out.

“If I want it?” I repeated. “Christian, this is… this is huge.”

“You get to create everything from scratch,” he continued, his eyes locked on mine. “Your way. Your favorite products. The best ingredients.”

I thought about my sprays, my little bottles, the almost childish joy I felt mixing, testing, learning, designing labels.

Christian gestured toward the tablet again.

“We’ll use grapes as the core, of course,” he said. “But I know you can take it further.”

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