Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 472 Madeline's POV We got back to Marcus's apartment in Belmonte in the late afternoon, the sun already beginning to set, washing the wide windows in shades of orange. Marcus closed the door behind us and turned to me, his expression heavy with genuine concern. "How are you feeling?" The question was simple, but it carried so much weight. How was I feeling after burying my father? After watching Dominic play the role of the perfect son-in-law? After my mother's quiet, urgent warning?

"Still very shaken emotionally," I admitted, feeling the exhaustion of the day settle into my bones. "But right now, I just want to focus on our daughter. I can't let myself get stressed anymore." The nurse's warning about the worsened placental abruption echoed constantly in my mind. Every tense moment, every spike of anxiety, felt like a potential risk to the baby. To our daughter. Marcus nodded and stepped closer, pressing a light kiss to my shoulder. The gesture was so natural, so instinctive, that it made me realize just how used I'd become to his steady, comforting presence.

"You can count on me for whatever you need," he said softly. I closed my eyes for a moment, absorbing the warmth of him before answering. "Right now, all I need is a really hot bath and some comfort food." I felt Marcus smile against my shoulder before he pulled back. "Take as long as you want in the tub," he said. "I'll handle ordering something good for dinner." I headed upstairs to the bathroom, grateful for the promise of a few quiet moments. I filled the tub with hot water, added some bath salts I found in the cabinet, and sank into the warmth with a sigh of relief.

that had happened. Why hadn't Dominic spoken to me? He'd been there, just a few feet away, with every opportunity in the world to approach me during the funeral. Why hadn't he tried anything? No threats. No intimidation. No attempt to

himself as the victim in everyone else's eyes, Dominic earned sympathy and support-while painting me as the villain of the story. "An attempted murder is intimidating enough, Madeline," I whispered to myself, my voice echoing softly off the tiled bathroom walls. "He doesn't need more than that." It was true. The bomb on the jet had delivered his message loud and clear. Dominic had no limits when it came to how far he was willing to go. I didn't need any further demonstrations of power to

later, deciding that Marcus's presence might at least help quiet the voices in my head. Being alone only intensified the obsessive thoughts, sending them spiraling into darker and darker loops. I changed into something comfortable and started gathering the clothes I'd worn that day to throw them in the wash. The black dress I'd chosen for the funeral. My underwear. The coat I'd worn over everything in Belmonte's cool, drizzly afternoon. That was when I felt something in

It was an envelope. Thick, high-quality paper. Expensive. Carefully sealed. I turned it over in my hands, searching for some indication of who had put it there-or what it contained. On the back, written in elegant handwriting I knew all too well were