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.

hanging and watched his face as he weighed 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

he felt my touch. I noticed the gun Lawrence had

face the window and resuming his nervous surveillance through the curtain. "Hurry up," he muttered. "Christian should be here any minute." It was exactly what I'd been waiting for. With Lawrence's back turned, I carefully set Matt back in his stroller and slipped my

Christian had insisted I always carry-pepper spray. "Just in case," he'd told me when he handed it over weeks ago. "I hope you never have to use it, but I want you ready for anything." At the time, I'd thought he was being overly cautious. Now, all I felt was fierce gratitude for his obsessive need to keep

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

but they were fast, 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