บททั้งหมดของ Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: บทที่ 481 - บทที่ 490

Madeline's POV I was lying in bed beside Marcus, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows across the room. My seven-month belly made it hard to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but it wasn't the physical discomfort that kept me awake that night. "Since my father's funeral, I haven't seen my mother," I said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between us. Marcus turned to look at me, his attention fully focused on me. "He said in the letter that I should forgive her," I went on, the words coming out more hesitant than I'd meant them to. "And… I want to try." I paused, gathering the courage to ask the question that had been haunting me. "Do you think I'm stupid for that?" Marcus took my hand in his, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles against my skin. "No," he said, with a sincerity I knew was real. "I understand that sometimes we're not ready to let go of certain relationships, no matter how much they've hurt us—especially whe

Marcus' POV We drove to the Kensington estate in Highridge Valley as soon as the sun came up. Christian's private jet carried us swiftly from the chaos of Belmonte to the quiet green hills of Southridge, but no one was admiring the view. Every one of us was lost in our own dark thoughts about what we'd just uncovered. Now, seated in the mansion's expansive living room—Christian, Zoey, Madeline, Gwen, Matthew, Dante, and me, with Nate joining by video call from England—we were finally facing the full scale of the problem ahead of us. "How did the Kensington name get dragged into all of this?" Matthew asked for the third time, his frustration obvious as he paced back and forth across the room. Gwen sat upright in an armchair, already in the efficient, executive mode that defined her in business. "We need to consider every possibility," she said. "Methanol can contaminate beverages in several ways. During the distillation process, if the first fraction isn't properly discarded—"

Madeline's POV I was standing on the lookout terrace of the Kensington mansion, gazing out over the vineyards stretching in perfect rows as far as the eye could see. The gentle hills formed an almost hypnotic scene, the vines arranged in geometric patterns that seemed to sway and dance with the light breeze. I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Zoey approaching, carrying two steaming cups of tea. "I thought you might want some company," she said, offering me one of the cups. I took it with a small, grateful smile. "Thank you." Zoey leaned against the railing beside me, her eyes settling on the same view I'd been lost in. "You know, every time I let Christian drag me out into the middle of those vineyards…" she said with a mischievous grin. "There's something about it. Magical. And slightly aphrodisiac." I laughed despite everything, feeling some of the tension loosen in my chest. "I'd even like to try," I said, gesturing to my very noticeable seven-month bell

Francesca's POV The weight of the electronic ankle monitor had become part of my daily routine—a constant presence, a reminder of my choices and their consequences. I was sitting on the back veranda of the Montgomery estate, watching the vineyards stretch across the rolling hills, when I heard the sound of a car approaching along the main drive. I checked my watch. It was 3 p.m., exactly as we'd agreed. I slipped inside through the back door and quietly went upstairs to my bedroom, where I had a perfect view of the front entrance. If Dominic was anything, it was punctual when it came to his meticulously calculated plans. Today's story would be the same as always. It was a "business meeting" with my parents to discuss joint management of the Montgomery winery. Officially, at least. In reality, those regular visits served far more interesting purposes. Dominic was meticulous in his illegal operations, and bribing the officer responsible for my electronic monitoring had been one o

Madeline's POV The pain started as a slow, steady wave, rolling up from my lower back and tightening across my abdomen in a grip that made me instinctively clutch the edge of the nightstand. I took a deep breath, counting in my head as the contraction passed, and when I looked at Marcus, I saw the exact moment it clicked for him. "Was that another one?" he asked, jumping up so fast from the chair beside the bed that he almost dropped the phone in his hand. "It was," I confirmed, trying to keep my voice calm despite the tension thickening the air. Marcus started pacing the hospital room, running his hands through his hair in a way I immediately recognized as pure panic. "I’m not ready," he blurted, spinning to face me with wide eyes. "Madeline, we’re not ready. We haven’t even picked her name yet!" I would’ve laughed if another contraction hadn’t started at that exact moment. I gripped the edge of the bed, breathing through the pain while Marcus continued spiraling. "And t