Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 190 Lawrence was getting more agitated, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. Every few minutes he went to the small, filthy window and peered nervously through the makeshift curtain he'd hung to hide our hideout. His movements were tense and jittery, like he expected Christian to show up at any second, and not alone. And I knew he wouldn't come alone. I knew my husband well enough to know Christian would never walk into something like this unprepared. He was brilliant, strategic, always three moves ahead in any negotiation.

Of course he'd have some elaborate plan to get us out without risking our lives. He'd probably already alerted the police, probably coordinating a rescue while pretending to follow Lawrence's demands. The problem was I also knew Christian's heart. If he ever had to choose between saving me and catching Lawrence, if there was the slightest chance my life or Matt's would be endangered, he wouldn't hesitate. He would protect us first. Even if that meant letting Lawrence slip away. Even if that meant putting himself in harm's way instead. I could not let that happen.

Lawrence needed to be arrested. This had to end. Matt was in the stroller beside me, crying with a raw, broken sound. His tiny fists pumped at the air as he squirmed, clearly hungry and terrified. The noise echoed off the metal walls of the warehouse in a way that made the sound feel huge and wrong. "Lawrence," I called, trying to keep my voice steady and controlled. "I need to take Matt out of the stroller and breastfeed him. Can you untie me for a minute?" He stopped pacing and turned to me, annoyed. "Christian will be here soon," he snapped.

"He can wait." "He's going to keep crying and make a scene," I insisted, looking at Matt. "Aren't you worried someone will hear and come by?" Lawrence hesitated, clearly thinking it over. Matt's crying was getting louder, more frantic, the kind of sound that carries. "We're out in the middle of nowhere," he said at last, though his voice lacked conviction. "Maybe," I replied, pretending to accept it. "But there are always workers around these vineyards, especially this time of year.

the possibility. Matt's cries filled the tense silence between us. Lawrence sighed dramatically but moved toward me and sat on the wooden chair where he'd tied me with thick ropes. "All right," he grumbled, starting to work the knots.

in my hands. When he finished untying me, I stood carefully and scooped Matt up from the stroller, holding him close. He still whined, but his cries softened as he felt my touch. I noticed the gun Lawrence had pressed to my temple earlier, 1/3 now

resuming his nervous surveillance through the curtain.

overly cautious. Now, all I felt was fierce gratitude for his obsessive need to keep me safe. Moving quietly, I crept closer to Lawrence, each step

close enough to see the tension in his shoulders, I acted. In one swift motion, I aimed the spray at his face, called his name to make him turn, and pressed the trigger. A cloud of burning powder burst out, hitting him square in the eyes. Lawrence screamed, stumbling back in shock and agony, his hands flying to his face. "You little bitch!" he roared, reaching out blindly. Even half-blinded, he managed to grab my arm, his fingers digging painfully

brutal, and fueled by everything in me that refused to break. He stumbled back, releasing me as he tried to wipe the burning from his eyes, cursing through his pain. That was my chance. I scooped Matt into my arms and bolted for the door, running as fast as I could. The sunlight outside was blinding after the dim warehouse