Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 421 Marcus' POV "I'll help you with the pasta," I offered, taking off my coat and rolling up the sleeves of my shirt while Madeline arranged the ingredients on the kitchen counter. "That would be great," she said, but there was something different in her voice. Something I couldn't quite identify. We started working side by side. I measured the flour while she cracked the eggs. It was a simple, domestic routine. Something that should have felt completely normal. But almost immediately, I noticed Madeline was acting... strange. First, she dropped an egg on the floor.

When she bent down to clean it up, she stayed in that position far longer than necessary, in a way that emphasized the curves of her body. When she straightened up, we were suddenly very close, and she lingered there a few seconds before stepping away. "Sorry," she murmured, though she didn't look sorry at all. We kept working, and the little "accidents" kept happening. Madeline brushed against me several times while reaching for ingredients. She asked for my help grabbing a bowl from a shelf she could have easily reached on her own, positioning herself so I had to lean over her.

When she mixed the dough, her movements were unnecessarily slow and fluid. "It's hot in here, don't you think?" she said, sliding a hand along her neck in a deliberately unhurried motion. I glanced around the kitchen, which felt perfectly normal for a winter day. "A little," I answered absently, focused on kneading the dough. She let out a soft sigh, one that seemed to carry far more meaning than the moment required. When I turned to grab the rolling pin, I caught her watching me with an intensity that made me frown. "Everything okay?" I asked. "You're acting kind of...

More..." I searched for the right word. "Energetic?" She laughed, but there was a hint of frustration in the sound. "Energetic," she repeated, as if the word completely missed the point. We kept working, and her strange behavior only escalated. She licked her fingers slowly when tasting the sauce. Commented on how "strong" I was when I opened a stubborn jar

course it was. But Madeline and I hadn't crossed that line since the Maldives. Since Apollo and Aphrodite. So I did my best not to read too much into it, because if I did, I'd lose my mind. "Marcus," she said, stepping directly in

me. The gesture was unmistakably suggestive, yet somehow my brain still refused to fully catch up. I tasted the sauce from her finger, acutely aware of how closely she was watching my mouth. "It's perfect," I said. She smiled. And that smile

changing later, Madeline simply pulled the blouse up over her head and took it off completely, standing there in the middle of the kitchen wearing nothing but jeans and a black lace bra. That was the exact moment it finally clicked. Madeline was trying to seduce me. And I had been completely, spectacularly oblivious. I

know my body is changing because of the pregnancy," she said, her voice trembling, "but I didn't think I looked that ridiculous. You didn't have to laugh in my face." "What?" I asked, completely confused. "Madeline, that's not-" But she was already crying, covering her face with her hands.