Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 386 Vivian's POV I bounced my leg impatiently against the clinic's cold floor, gnawing at what little remained of my already- red nails. The clock on the wall seemed to be mocking me, each passing second stretching into an eternity. This was ridiculous. The exam should've been quick, not a full medical appointment. I needed to find a way to make the doctor authorize that DNA test. It was essential. Strategic, even. If Madeline was pregnant with Dominic's child, it would be the ultimate leverage. She wouldn't be trapped by marriage alone anymore, she'd be bound to that child forever.

A Blackwood heir meant she'd never escape us. Now, if the baby belonged to another man... that would explode like a bomb in Belmonte's high society. It was already bad enough that the idiot had run from the altar. Even with all the lies we'd spun to cover it up, people still talked. Whispered at events. Those looks of pity mixed with malicious curiosity. Now imagine a child being born with those blue eyes, the ones that hot little lover of hers had, God knows how she found him. It would be the final scandal. The kind that would destroy the Sullivan name for good.

And the Blackwoods along with it. The door finally opened, and Dr. Montgomery stepped out-alone. I jumped to my feet immediately, nerves buzzing. "How did it go?" I asked, scanning behind her. "Where's Madeline?" The doctor started speaking in that professional, overly formal tone. "The exam went well, within normal parameters, but we do recommend extra precautions due to-" "Where is Madeline?" I cut her off, almost shouting, completely losing my patience. She blinked several times, clearly startled by my outburst, before pulling herself together. "She...

was screaming that something was wrong. Very wrong. I stormed out of the room, practically running down the sterile hallway. The doctor followed close behind, clearly alarmed by my growing loss of control. "Which restroom?" I demanded, looking frantically from side

dangerously. I bolted back down the hallway, this time toward the reception desk, the doctor still trailing me like I was a psychiatric patient on the verge of a breakdown. 1/3 "Madeline Sullivan!" I shouted at the receptionist. "Have you seen Madeline Sullivan leave?" The girl stared at me wide-eyed, clearly unsure of how to respond. But I already knew. It was too late. The realization crashed into

failure. Driving to his office felt like heading toward my own

massive mahogany desk, surrounded by neatly stacked documents, contracts, and financial reports. For a brief second before he looked up, I saw him for what he truly was: a predator in his territory. Calculated. Dangerous. "Madeline ran," I announced without

unfolding behind those dark eyes. Before I could explain, justify myself, or try to minimize my responsibility for the disaster, he stood abruptly and crossed the room in long, decisive strides. The slap came without warning. The sound echoed through the office