Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 508 Madeline's POV I closed my eyes. It was instinctive. Automatic. When you know you're about to die-when you see a gun aimed at you and hear the order given-you close your eyes. I waited for the shot to hit me. Waited for the pain. The impact. The blood. Whatever came when a bullet tore through my body. I waited for the end. The sound came. A loud, sharp crack echoed through the silent garden. But nothing else followed. There was no pain. No impact. No sensation at all-just that sound slicing through the air.

I opened my eyes in confusion, my mind scrambling to understand why I was still standing. Why I was still breathing. Why I was still alive. And then I saw Dominic collapsing, like every string holding him upright had been cut at the same time. He fell backward, hitting the decorated garden floor with a heavy, final thud. And then I saw the rest. The perfectly round hole right in the center of his forehead. Blood spilling down. His eyes wide open, frozen in absolute shock-as if even in his final seconds, he couldn't believe this was happening. Dominic Blackwood was dead.

I turned slowly toward Vivian, my brain still struggling to process what I had just witnessed. She stood there, the gun still raised, still pointed at where Dominic had been standing seconds earlier. A faint smile played on her lips. Then, in a gesture so cinematic it felt unreal, she blew lightly on the barrel of the gun like something straight out of an old Western. "He really should've thought twice," she said casually, her voice light, almost amused, "before putting a gun in my hand. Before teaching me how to shoot. Before teaching me to never ever miss a target." Her eyes met mine.

just you and me, Madeline," she said. Terror slammed back into me at full force. My knees nearly gave out. My hands flew up instinctively in 1/3 surrender. "Please," I managed, my voice shaking, breaking. I took a

mind racing, searching desperately for an exit, a way out, a way to survive. "It was never going to work, of course," Vivian went on, shrugging. "Our friendship. Because I needed Dominic in my hands. And, well... he needed you in his." Then, to my absolute shock, she lowered the gun. Holstered it at her waist like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Relax," she said, seeing my expression. "This

but unable to fully process them. My body was still in survival mode-every muscle tight, coiled, ready to run. But something inside me began to pull itself back together. The rage. The indignation. The memory of everything she had done. "You suggested it," I finally said, my voice steadier now. And obviously, I hadn't believed a single word back then. "The same weekend you tried to throw me off a bridge while I

little... aggressively competitive? Absolutely. But-" she paused, looking at me with something that almost resembled honesty, "I didn't plan any