Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 462 Marcus' POV "Madeline?" I murmured, seeing her standing in the doorway like she was about to come in just as I was about to leave. Her eyes were red, clearly betraying that she'd been crying. Her hair was slightly messy, like she'd run her hands through it over and over. And her expression-she looked exhausted. Not just physically. There was a deep emotional weariness etched into every line of her face, a kind of fatigue that seemed to come straight from her soul and spread through her entire body.

"You scared me," I said, instinctively pulling her into an embrace, a wave of overwhelming relief washing over me just from seeing her there-safe, whole. She didn't resist, but she didn't hug me back either. She stayed still in my arms, passive, as if she were merely tolerating the contact instead of participating in it. It felt like I was holding a distant version of her. "I told you I was getting a ride home," she said when I pulled back slightly, her voice sounding more tired than defensive. "Davide brought me." "But how...

how did I get here first?" I asked, genuinely confused by the logistics. I'd driven fast-borderline reckless-to get home as quickly as possible. But the time I'd spent waiting for Mia, Luke, and Olivia to gather their things before leaving with me had given Madeline a head start. "Davide dropped everyone else off first," she explained, slipping past me and into the apartment with slow, deliberate movements. "I was the last one." I closed the door and followed her inside, watching the way she moved through our shared space.

She let out a heavy sigh and sank onto the couch, the kind of exhaustion in her body that immediately worried me. It was as if the weight of the world had settled onto her

in the armchair across from her, instinctively keeping the distance she seemed to need. She nodded slightly-barely more than a flicker of movement-and then continued, her voice unexpectedly steady. 1/2 "You told me you wanted to make this work. But you don't." "What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely lost, trying to understand where she was going

for what you've done for me and for my child... but I don't love you."

other or hiding things." I went completely still, trying to absorb