Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 9

I didn't think. I just grabbed Christian's wrist and dragged him out of the room before anyone decided to start throwing confetti at us. He was smiling the whole time, like he was actually enjoying this insanity.

I stormed down the hallway, ignoring my mom's and siblings' confused looks, shoved him into the kitchen, and slammed the door shut behind us.

"What the hell was that, Christian?!"

He adjusted the sleeve of his suit, totally relaxed, like proposing to a complete stranger was something he did every Thursday.

"A marriage proposal."

"I noticed!" I rubbed my forehead, a tingling starting behind my eyes. "What I want to know is, why?!"

He gave me a look of pure amusement, like he couldn't understand why I was having a meltdown.

"I thought we'd already established this. You asked me to be your fiancé at your ex's wedding. I just decided I want to keep playing the part."

He decided?!

"I didn't ask you to stalk me and show up at my house with an engagement ring, you lunatic! Not to mention you lied to me!"

"Well, technically, I didn't lie. You never asked if I was your gigolo."

"You let me think you were!"

He arched an eyebrow, looking way too entertained by my crisis.

"I just didn't correct you."

"Why?!"

He shrugged.

"You said I'd get to kiss you. Sounded pretty convincing to me."

I gawked at him, my face heating, my stomach twisting even though part of me wanted to punch him.

"Are you kidding me?!"

He laughed softly, but then his expression turned more serious.

"Zoey, listen. You might think all this is ridiculous right now, but believe me… I wasn't the one who started this mess. You were."

I blinked, stunned.

"Excuse me?"

"Your little scene at the wedding. The 'my rich, perfect fiancé' game. That, along with the photos, caused a stir in the media."

"So what? Do you care? It's the internet. They'll forget about us as soon as they find something else to talk about."

He let out a short laugh.

"I wouldn't care… if it wasn't for the fact that my grandfather saw it."

My eyebrow shot up.

"So what about him?"

For the first time, Christian looked a little frustrated. He ran a hand through his hair, and something in his expression shifted—a flicker of vulnerability I hadn't seen before.

"My grandfather is very traditional, Zoey. He thinks I'm a lost cause, that I'll never settle down or build something solid. And now, suddenly, he sees headlines saying I'm engaged?"

I swallowed hard, already feeling the weight of where this was going.

"And he believed it?"

Christian folded his arms.

"He wants to meet you."

My brain twisted into knots.

"Okay. This just passed the bizarre threshold."

He sighed, leaning back against the counter, watching me carefully.

"Zoey, you need to understand this isn't just about him being stubborn. My grandfather plans to leave me the majority of the inheritance—all the family businesses. But for that to happen, I have to be married."

I blinked, completely rattled.

"You're serious?"

He just stared at me. And that was the moment I realized he really was serious. I let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Well, then you'll have to find someone else to pretend to be your fiancée, because I'm out of this insanity."

Christian tilted his head.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive!" I crossed my arms, ignoring the flip in my stomach. "I'm allergic to marriage."

"Zoey…"

"He has a large debt. Very large."

My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

"I know that."

My family had been struggling with it for months. The late bills, the cutbacks, the hushed conversations my parents thought we couldn't hear. I still remembered the defeated look on my dad's face coming home late at night after yet another failed attempt to fix things.

So what the hell did Christian Kensington have to do with it?

"The real question is: how do you know that?" I asked, my voice sharp.

He looked at me, calm. Too calm for someone about to drop a bomb in my lap.

"I investigated."

My head spun.

"You WHAT?!"

"Zoey, do you really think I'd propose marriage without knowing exactly who I was dealing with?" He crossed his arms. "When your name exploded in the media, people started digging. Your family's past, your jobs, your finances. And I had to know exactly what they could find."

My stomach turned. I felt exposed, vulnerable, like he'd stripped me bare against my will.

"You hired someone to investigate my family?!"

He gave a half-smile.

"Technically, I just requested a report. But long story short… your father is caught up in a messy lawsuit. If he loses, your family could lose the house too."

For a moment, my vision darkened. My knees buckled, and I had to grip the kitchen counter to steady myself. I knew things were bad. I knew they were getting worse. But I didn't know we were one step away from losing everything.

Christian just watched me, waiting for reality to sink in. And it did. My stomach plummeted, taking my pride, my dignity, my strength with it.

"You're saying if I agree to this trip, you'll fix it?"

He didn't blink.

"Exactly."

I stayed silent.

Anger, frustration, panic—all tangled up inside me. I didn't want to be part of this madness. But the thought of watching my parents lose their house, after everything they'd already been through, was worse.

Christian stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine, like he already knew he'd won. And then, he spoke the final words that pushed me right over the edge, "So… what do you say?"