Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 661 Gwen's POV The whole house seemed to fall into conspiracy. Not in a magical way. In a practical, Valentian, almost military way. Martina didn't celebrate. Didn't overreact. Didn't interrogate me. She just rolled up her sleeves like she was accepting a mission. For a few minutes, | let her lead. "You're staying right there," she said, firmly guiding me into a chair at the kitchen table. "And you're drinking water." "I'm not sick," | muttered, obeying anyway. "You're pregnant," she corrected, as if that explained everything. " And you're pale. Water." I drank.

And for a second, | saw myself through her eyes. Someone who had spent too long trying to be invincible. Someone who was now allowed to just be... human. Martina opened the fridge and assessed the ingredients like a general studying a battlefield. ---- "Nothing heavy," she declared. "Tonight is about the heart, not the stomach." | almost laughed. "That was deep. For you." She shot me a look that was half reprimand, half humor. "| raised Nick. | know when he eats because he's happy and when he eats because he's trying not to feel." That one hit me right in the chest. Because it was true.

And because there was something tender in it that reminded me what | was about to give him. We built the evening carefully. Martina prepared something simple but beautiful. Light pasta. A soft, delicate sauce. A salad she somehow made look like it belonged in a magazine spread. Nothing extravagant. Nothing theatrical, Just comfort. linsisted on making dessert. ---- Out of stubbornness. Symbolism. The need to use my hands, not just my heart. "Gwen..." Martina warned, suspicious. "I know," | cut in before she could rescue me too soon. "| know it'll probably go wrong.

chocolate and stirred too aggressively, like stirring harder might give me control over something. | nearly burned it. Created a small cloud of smoke that had me flinging open a window, coughing and laughing at the same time. Martina took one

A small bowl of something creamy with chocolate drizzled on top. Not fine ---- dining. Just me, trying to build a memory with my own hands. When night fell, Martina executed her part flawlessly. "Bella, tonight we're going to bed early," | heard her say in that firm, sweet voice. "Movie night." A few minutes later, the guest

room warmer. Changed clothes. Not seductive. Not calculated Just beautiful. | wanted to feel good in my own skin. Like my body hadn't been just a place of survival for months. Then | stood there with the envelope in my hand,

what if the first thing he feels is fear?' Renee had that talent. Poisoning even good news. | closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pushing her voice out of my head before it could take shape. When | heard the front door open, | froze. Footsteps in the hallway. The doorknob turned. Nick stepped in and stopped immediately, like he had crossed into another dimension. "What...?" His eyes

that?" he asked, and his voice faltered just slightly. | placed the envelope in his hands. "Open it." He looked at it like he was afraid to tear it. Like the wrong movement might cause something to collapse. "Gwen... what does this mean?" he