Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 44 Joseph's words lingered in the air while I struggled to keep my composure. My mind raced, searching for a response that wouldn't sound like an outright lie yet wouldn't reveal the painful truth either. "I hope you had a good trip," I said at last, choosing to shift the subject. "I hope it was a pleasant journey." Joseph offered me his arm, guiding me toward the living room. His steps were slower than I remembered, as though each movement demanded deliberate effort. "The trip was... productive," he replied, his voice carrying a nuance I couldn't quite interpret. "Please, sit.

I'll have them bring some of that tea you liked last time." I sat on the sofa while Joseph gave a discreet signal to one of the maids. The familiarity with which he treated me, as though I were already part of the family, made my chest tighten. He remembered the tea I liked. Such a small detail, yet so meaningful. "Have you and Christian started thinking about dates?" he asked once he'd composed himself, as if the coughing spell hadn't happened. "For the wedding, I mean. I'm sorry my trip delayed things." My stomach dropped.

How could Christian let his grandfather believe this lie for so long? What was he waiting for? "We... we're still discussing it," I answered carefully. "There are many things to consider." "Of course, of course." He nodded, understanding. "But don't take too long. Life is too precious to waste on indecision, don't you think?" There was something in his tone, a veiled urgency that made me study him more closely. The dark circles under his eyes, the subtle pallor, the way his hand drifted to his chest now and then as though to soothe an ache. Joseph Kensington was not well.

"Are you feeling alright?" I asked gently. A tired smile crossed his face. "Just the weight of years, my dear. Nothing to worry about." The maid returned with the tea, sparing us from the delicate conversation for the moment. As she poured, I noticed Joseph discreetly pulling a small pill bottle from the inner pocket of his jacket. He slipped one into his mouth quickly, trying to mask the movement behind his teacup. It was time to change the subject. "How were things in Valentia?" I asked once we were alone again.

muttered, unable to hold back the edge of bitterness. To my surprise, Joseph laughed. A short, almost bitter laugh that ended in another fit of coughing. "Don't be

with a renowned cardiologist. The doctors here had already run out of options and..." He stopped abruptly, his hand clutching at his chest again. But this time the gesture was harsher, his fingers gripping the fabric of his

something far more frightening. "My... medicine," he managed, his voice barely a whisper. His free hand pointed weakly toward the jacket draped neatly over the arm of the sofa. I leapt from my seat, rummaging through the pockets until I found another vial-different from the one he had taken earlier. The letters on the label blurred as I tried

his mouth. "Hold on, I'll call an ambulance," I said, already reaching for my phone. But Joseph clutched my wrist, stopping me. "Christian..." he managed to say. "Call Christian." "Grandpa!" Christian's desperate voice cut through the air like a blade. He was at the doorway, his face drained of color, horror written across his features as his eyes locked

his knees in front of Joseph. "What happened?" he asked, his voice shaking in a way I had never heard before. "My chest..." Joseph gasped, weaker by the second. "I can't..." Panic swept across Christian's face. For the first time since I'd met him, I saw