Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 171 Zoey's POV +25 Bonus The days that followed passed in a blur of slow but steady recovery. Every morning I woke a little clearer, a little stronger, a little more desperate to finally meet my son. The doctors ran their daily checks by testing my reflexes, my coordination, and my focus. I did everything they asked. I answered every question, took every pill, pushed through every ache, because I knew each small step brought me closer to Matt. On the fourth morning after waking from the coma, Dr. Porter finally said the words I'd been praying to hear.

"Zoey, you're ready to be moved to a regular room. And... if you feel up to it, you can meet your baby today." My heart exploded with joy, fear, and disbelief all tangled together. After more than ten days since the accident, I was finally going to see my son. To touch him. To hold his tiny hand. "Can I go now?" I blurted, trying to sit up too fast. "Easy there," Dr. Porter said with a soft laugh. "First we'll get you transferred, settled into your new room, have you eat something. Then, if you're still feeling well, we'll go to the NICU." Leaving the ICU felt like crossing a finish line.

It meant my body was healing, that I no longer needed constant monitoring. Christian never let go of my hand the entire time, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against my skin as if he was afraid I'd disappear again. "How are you feeling?" he asked for what had to be the tenth time that morning. "Nervous," I admitted. "What if he doesn't like me? What if I don't know how to hold him? What if-" "Zoey," Christian interrupted, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You're his mother. It'll come naturally." I tried to eat lunch, but every bite felt heavy. My stomach was too full of butterflies.

Each minute dragged like an hour. Then, finally, around two in the afternoon, a nurse appeared at the door pushing a wheelchair. "Ready to meet your son?" she asked with a warm smile. The tears started before I could even nod. Christian wheeled me down the hallway, his hands steady on the chair handles, but I could feel the tremor in him-the same storm of emotion building inside me. The NICU was a soft symphony of quiet beeps and gentle voices.

It was filled with the hum of machines, the muted rustle of nurses moving from one incubator to another, the glow of soft lights protecting the babies' fragile eyes. And in the middle of it all, in a small clear incubator, was him. My son, Matt. "Oh my God," I breathed, both hands flying to my mouth. He was smaller than I'd imagined, yet more perfect than anything I'd ever seen. So tiny, so fragile, but so unmistakably alive. There were tubes and wires, monitors tracking every breath and heartbeat-but all I saw was my baby. Our baby. Dr. Sanders came over with a warm, reassuring smile.

voice trembling. "Of course," she said. "Let's get you settled first." 1/3 Christian moved the chair closer to the incubator, and Dr. Sanders guided me through the steps. She helped me sanitize my hands, then opened a small round window on the side of

all mine. He studied my face, his little brow furrowing as if memorizing me. "He knows you," Christian murmured, his own voice thick with emotion. "Look at him. He knows you. "Hey there, my little warrior," I whispered, tracing

it with a strength that took my breath away. That small, fragile touch shattered me in the best possible way. He was holding on to me. Claiming me. Recognizing me as his mother. "He's perfect," I cried, tears spilling freely. "Christian, he's absolutely perfect." Christian bent down and kissed the top of my head. "Just

as close as I could to the incubator, keeping my hand linked with his tiny one. "I know you're small right now, but you're so strong," I whispered softly. "Daddy told me you're just as stubborn as Mommy. That's a good thing. It means you're going

tell you stories about Valentia." Christian knelt beside me, sliding his hand through the incubator opening too. "And there's Daddy," he said, his voice filled with love. "Who loves you more than he ever thought he could love anyone." "You were born into a family that loves you endlessly," I whispered. "And once you're a little bigger, we'll take you home. You

to Matt, touching him, humming the lullabies my mother used to sing to me when I was little. Christian never left my side, sometimes adding his own quiet words of love and encouragement. 2/3 He se It was true. Matt's tiny body relaxed completely. His eyelids fluttered open and closed, but each time he opened

I asked. "In a few weeks, once he's a little bigger and more stable," Dr. Sanders explained kindly. "But this kind of contact, what you're doing now, is incredibly important for his development." "Matt," I whispered, pressing a kiss to my palm and then touching his forehead gently through the incubator. Mommy and Daddy are going to be right here every single