Semua Bab Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: Bab 721 - Bab 730

Nick's POV The receptionist looked at the screen, then at me, and I saw that split second of assessment everyone makes when the urgency isn't their own. "One moment, sir," she said. I felt Gwen's hand in mine, firm, like she was keeping me grounded. I didn't look at her. If I did, I'd break in a way I couldn't afford to. The receptionist motioned to a nurse in the hallway. The nurse came quickly. "I'll take you to her," she said. I didn't ask where. I just went. The corridor felt too long. Every door we passed was a reminder that life inside those walls could change in seconds. I tried to keep breathing. The nurse stopped in front of a door. Checked a clipboard. "She's in here." I opened it before she could finish. And for a moment, everything I'd been holding inside me hit the floor. Bella was sitting on the bed with a tray in her lap and a small cup of gelatin trembling under the white light. A nurse stood beside her, watching with the calm of someone who ha

Nick's POV The four of us got into the car almost at the same time. Bella dove into the back seat, sliding across it like it was the couch at home. Her small backpack in her lap. Hair still rumpled from the morning. The unfiltered excitement of someone who doesn't store anxiety in her body. "Seatbelt," Martina warned automatically, before she had even sat down. "I know, Grandma," Bella replied, clicking it in with a dramatic sigh, just to perform that she was being forced. Gwen closed the passenger door carefully and settled in slowly, her hand going to her belly in an instinctive gesture. I got into the driver's seat, put the key in, and for a second just stared ahead, feeling the good weight of having everyone there. I started the engine. It turned over and something inside me did too. Gwen glanced at the back seat. Bella had already stretched her legs out and was swinging her feet in the air. Then she looked at me with a smile that was too innocent for the woman she

Nick's POV The Valement Estate had a sound. Not just one clear, recognizable noise you could identify with your eyes closed. It was a blend of smaller sounds that came together and turned into a rhythm. The gate creaking open at dawn. Tires crunching over gravel. Quick footsteps echoing down the service hallway. The soft clink of dishes in the kitchen. The coffee machine running nonstop. Wood groaning under footsteps that no longer tried to be careful, because this place had stopped being a project and become a home. And it had a scent. Strong coffee. Warm bread. Ripe grapes that lingered in the air even out of season. The clean smell of freshly pressed laundry drifting from somewhere. That standard hotel soap Martina had approved with all the seriousness of a board meeting. As I crossed the courtyard, I could still catch the faint scent of cold stone beneath it all. A reminder that these walls had history. By the time I walked into the kitchen, the routine was already in mot

Gwen's POV Florentia had a way of making everything feel bigger. The lights always seemed more intentional. Every place carried enough history to feel like a set. Even the sound of people talking held a kind of beauty. Right at the entrance of the event, I felt that sense of scale. The flow of guests. The understated carpet. The carefully positioned photographers pretending to be there by chance, even though they already knew exactly who they wanted to capture. The wall with the name of the line in elegant lettering—Valemont Line by Kensington—and beside it, the label blown up like it was a piece of art. And maybe it was. I smoothed my dress with a small gesture and took a deep breath before stepping in. Nick stood beside me, impeccable and very aware of himself in that space, like every step had to prove he belonged there. I laced my fingers through his. "Breathe," I murmured. "I am breathing," he said, but his voice came out tight. I almost smiled. "Then make it

Gwen's POV There was a kind of silence that only existed in the middle of the night. A comforting silence. Even with the lights on and the hospital still running, the world felt stripped down to the essentials. The low hum of the air conditioning. The distant beep of a monitor. The soft shuffle of nurses moving through the halls like they were carrying the balance of the world on their shoulders. I sat in bed with Clara in my arms. Her tiny face was a collection of details I tried to memorize, even though I knew I couldn't. The little mouth. The skin still carrying that just-arrived-into-the-world tone. The delicate nose. The heavy eyelids opening and closing like she was testing out her own body. Nick sat beside me, leaning against the headboard, his arm stretched behind me in a quiet, protective gesture. He didn't say much. He just looked. Like silence was the most honest way to say, I don't believe this and I do at the same time. "You okay?" he asked softly. I