Semua Bab Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: Bab 701 - Bab 710

"Gwen?" Her voice was small, coming from deep inside the cellar, like she was afraid even the echo might scold her. "Are you sick? You screamed." I froze for a second. It was like my brain had forgotten how the world worked. Bella was standing there, half-hidden behind a row of barrels, her backpack still on her shoulders, her face smudged with the kind of dirt you get from trying to be brave all day. Her eyes were too big, too alert for a child. "Bella!" The word tore out of me, raw with relief. I ran to her. The stone floor was cold and damp, but I didn't feel any of it. All I felt was the weight of panic cracking open when I reached her and wrapped my arms around that small body so tightly I scared myself. "Oh my God…" I whispered into her hair, like I needed to confirm she was real. "Oh my God, sweetheart…" She went stiff for half a second, then her arms locked around me with a strength that didn't match her size. I swallowed back a sob. "Everyone's been so wo

Gwen's POV The drive back to Florentia felt fast. Bella was in the backseat, clutching a pillow like something soft could convince the world to be less hard. Nick drove with both hands tight on the wheel, his entire body still locked in alert mode. I sat in the passenger seat with my phone in my hand and my mind split in two places: here, under the seatbelt… and back there, in the sentence I had murmured to the police officer. Strange men. I kept repeating it in my head, trying to figure out which drawer it belonged in. What kind of strange? What kind of men? What kind of visits? I glanced in the rearview mirror. Bella was asleep, mouth slightly open, exhausted from being brave all day. Her hair stuck to her forehead, and there was a faint smudge of dried gelato on the corner of her shirt. Nick caught my look. "She asleep?" he asked, without taking his eyes off the road. "She's asleep," I said. He exhaled slowly, like it was the first real breath he'd taken in hou

Nick's POV When the social worker finished the sentence about the "current court order," something primal rose in me. An instinct to grab my daughter and disappear. Martina made a soft, broken sound. Gwen went completely still, her hand resting over her stomach, like her body had absorbed the blow before her mind did. Bella was wrapped around my legs, her face buried in my pants like I was the only safe place left in the world. I ran my hand through her hair slowly, repeating "I'm here" more for myself than for her, because I needed to remember I could still stand upright. She lifted her tear-soaked face and looked at me with a clarity no child should have. "I don't want to go," she whispered. The words hit me like something solid. The man with the folder shuffled his papers. "Mr. Valemont—" "I understand," I cut in, without raising my voice. "I just need a minute." I crouched down to Bella's level. "Princess…" I said, and it took everything in me not to let the w

Gwen's POV The café sat on a quiet side street. I picked the table all the way in the back, with a clear view of the door and the counter. An old habit. When you grow up being watched, you learn to watch first. The man arrived without rushing, without glancing around too much, like someone who knows that people in a hurry draw attention. Dark suit, carefully scruffy beard, slim briefcase. Not a lawyer's. The kind carried by someone who preferred his work to stay off paper. "Ms. Kensington?" he asked. I nodded. He sat down. "You can call me Lawrence," he said. "You were referred to me." "I know," I replied. "And I won't be using your name outside this room." One corner of his mouth almost lifted. "Good. Then we speak the same language," he said. I wrapped both hands around my cup like it was the only thing I needed to hold on to. "It's a custody case," I began. "So everything needs to be even more… careful." "A minor changes the procedure and the price," he repli

Gwen's POV "No way." Matthew said it like I had just asked him to burn down Kensington headquarters and run through the lobby with a fire extinguisher in his hands. I leaned back in the chair and watched the scene with a calm that wasn't calm. The office was my office. Same desk, same view, the same corner where I kept a mug I never actually used. Except now, I was sitting on the opposite side of the desk. It felt wrong. Not because of pride. Because of instinct. My body knew exactly where I sat when I was the one in charge. And on the other side was Matthew. At least it was him. At least when I looked at that occupied chair, I saw someone I trusted enough not to feel like they were stealing my skin. Mia was still standing, leaning against the bookshelf, with that posture of someone ready to laugh and ready to bite in the same sentence. Dante was sprawled in the armchair like this was a social call and not a conversation that could change a child's life. Matthew,