Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93

Christian’s POV

“Christian, I…” Zoey slowly pushed herself up, bracing against the bathroom counter. Her eyes flicked to the pregnancy test, then back to me. “It’s not what you think.”

I forced myself to look away from the box and focus on her. The cold bathroom light only sharpened the paleness of her face, deepening the shadows under her eyes.

“What am I thinking?” My voice came out surprisingly calm, considering the storm inside my head.

“Annabelle brought that earlier.” She gestured vaguely toward the test. “She’s got this crazy theory that I’m pregnant just because I’ve been sick a few times. She insisted I take it, but…”

A crazy theory. Of course. I drew in a slow breath, trying to order my thoughts.

“Maybe she’s right,” I suggested, keeping my tone neutral. “You’ve been unwell. It would be wise to check.”

Zoey shook her head, gripping the counter tightly.

“It’s not necessary. We’ve always been careful.”

“Always?” The word slipped out before I could stop it, dragging back flashes of Castoria-moonlit vineyards, tangled sheets, no thought beyond each other.

Unexpected color rose in Zoey’s pale cheeks. Our eyes met, both of us remembering the same nights.

“Almost always,” she admitted softly. “But the chances are minimal. It’s probably just stress, or something I ate.”

I looked at my wife, technically, though nothing about our marriage was conventional. In that moment, she seemed so young, so vulnerable in her silk nightdress, hair mussed, exhaustion written across her face. And yet there was strength in her too, that quiet determination that never failed to catch me off guard.

“Zoey.” I stepped closer, lightly touching her arm. “Why not take the test? Just so we know for sure.”

She bit her lower lip. It was a habit I’d noticed she only did when truly nervous.

“And if…” She trailed off, unable to finish.

“If it’s positive?” I finished gently.

She nodded, her eyes dropping to the floor.

I should have had an answer ready. Something steady. Something reassuring a husband should say to his wife in

a moment like this. But the truth was, I was still struggling to process the possibility myself.

A child. My child. Our child.

The thought had never factored into my plans. And certainly not with a woman I’d met under such unusual circumstances, tied to me by a marriage born of business. But… it was Zoey.

“One problem at a time,” I said at last. “First, we need to know if there’s really something to worry about. Can

you wait here? Twenty minutes at most. I need to handle something quickly.”

Zoey nodded, looking almost relieved at the postponement.

I dressed swiftly and went downstairs, my mind racing. Marcus would already be in the office at this hour, preparing for the morning’s meetings. I found him exactly where I expected, leaning over stacks of documents, speaking rapid Valentian into the phone, his face set in focused concentration.

I waited until he finished the call before stepping fully into the room.

“I need you to take over all my meetings this morning,” I said without preamble.

Marcus blinked, clearly taken aback.

“What?”

“My meetings. All of them. Including the presentation for the Niharan investors and the inspection of the project with Anthony.”

Marcus stared at me as if I’d just suggested we sell the entire vineyard.

“Christian Kensington putting something-someone-above business.” He shook his head, still smiling. “I guess marriage really has changed you.”

I ignored the comment, though deep down, I knew he was right.

“Can you handle this? Honestly?”

Marcus sighed dramatically, but I could already see him mentally rearranging the day.

“I can do the presentation for the Niharan, it’s not the first time I’ve gone over those numbers. And as for the inspection with Anthony…” He grimaced. “It won’t be pleasant. He’ll notice you’re avoiding him.”

“Let him think what he wants.” The truth was, at that moment, Anthony and his games were the least of my concerns. “Just make sure he doesn’t see anything compromising. And keep him away from the north sector- we’re still vulnerable there after the sabotage.’

“Got it.” Marcus nodded, already reaching for his phone. “I’ll reorganize everything. Go, take care of Zoey.” He hesitated, then added with unusual seriousness, “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“So do I,” I answered honestly.

The walk back to the bedroom felt endless. My mind swung between extremes-everything from the certainty it was just a false alarm to vivid images of what it would mean if there was a child. Our child.

I didn’t even know if I wanted to be a father. My own experience with fatherhood wasn’t exactly a model to follow. Lawrence Kensington was a brilliant businessman and an absent father-present only for criticism and occasional displays of disappointment.

Would I be any different? Could I balance the company, the responsibilities, with a child?

And Zoey… What would she want? Our agreement had never included this possibility. We were together for a limited time, with clearly defined goals. A child would change absolutely everything.

When I entered the room, Zoey was curled up in bed, wrapped in one of the heavy blankets usually reserved for winter. A cup of tea sat on the nightstand, still steaming but untouched.

“Carmen brought the tea,” she explained in response to my glance. “She said it would help with the nausea. But the smell…”

She grimaced, which in any other circumstance might have been comical.

I moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. For the first time since I’d met her, I didn’t know exactly what to say. All my negotiation skills and corporate diplomacy training did nothing to prepare me for this moment.

“Zoey…” I began, my voice softer than usual. “Shall we take the test?”