Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 164 Christian's POV The world stopped the moment I saw Zoey fall down the marble stairs. My brain couldn't keep up with what my eyes were seeing. My pregnant wife was tumbling down, her body hitting the steps at brutal angles. The sickening thud of every impact echoed through the exhibition hall. "Zoey!!!" I screamed, dropping everything in my hands and sprinting toward the staircase. The entire pavilion froze. Hundreds of people stood in shock, but all I could see was my whole world lying at the bottom of those stairs, motionless, and surrounded by a growing pool of blood.

I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands trembling uncontrollably as I touched her pale face. "Zoey, baby, talk to me!" My voice cracked, desperate, shaking. "Stay with me, love. Please, stay with me!" Her eyes fluttered weakly, struggling to focus on me. And then, barely a whisper, her voice broke the air. "He's not moving... Matt's not moving." And her eyes closed. "NO!" I shouted, pressing my fingers against her neck until I felt her pulse. It was faint, but there. "Zoey, don't you do this to me! Stay awake!" I turned toward the crowd, panic boiling over.

"Has someone called an ambulance?!" "It's on its way!" someone yelled back. Marcus appeared beside me out of nowhere, dropping to his knees "Christian! What happened?" "I don't know," I choked out, barely able to breathe. "She went upstairs to get some materials, and then I... I don't know what happened!" A few feet away, I saw Elise sprawled on the floor too, motionless, blood on her face. But I couldn't process it. I couldn't see anyone but Zoey. I shrugged off my jacket and slid it under her head, trying to stop the bleeding from the gash on her forehead, my hands slick with her blood.

"Please, love," I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers. "Please stay with me. Matt and I need you." The paramedics arrived five minutes later, maybe less, but it felt like hours. They immediately took control, assessing her, stabilizing her neck and spine, barking medical terms I couldn't understand. "Sir, are you the husband?" one of them asked. "Yes," I said, my voice raw. "I'm Christian Kensington." "How far along is she?" "Seven months." They exchanged a grim look that made my stomach twist.

Inside the ambulance, everything blurred into beeping monitors and flashing lights. I couldn't

what I didn't want to hear. It was bad. Worse than I could bear to imagine. Everything at the hospital moved in a blur of chaos and white lights. Zoey was rushed straight into the emergency room, and I was led somewhere else-some sterile

might rip out of my chest. Every minute stretched into eternity. When the doctor finally appeared, still pulling on his white coat, his face told me everything I didn't want to hear. "Mr. Kensington?" "Yes." "I'm Dr. Porter, the emergency obstetrician. Your wife suffered severe abdominal trauma, a head injury, and multiple

critical." My legs nearly gave out beneath me. "The baby...?" I forced out. "We have to perform an emergency C-section immediately," he said, his tone urgent but steady. "It's the only chance we have to save him." He set a clipboard in front of me. "I need you to sign the consent forms. We'll have two surgical teams. One for your wife, one for the baby." My hands were trembling

odds were razor-thin. He was trying to hide it, but it was there, raw and real. "Mr. Kensington," he said carefully, "we'll do absolutely everything we can. But I need to be honest. She's lost a significant amount of blood. The situation is very serious." My signature came out jagged and broken, my hand shaking so hard it barely looked like writing at all. It felt like I

into the pre-op room. Zoey lay there, unconscious, covered in tubes and monitors. Her skin was pale and bruised. Her hair was all tangled up. But she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I took her cold hand in mine and kissed her forehead. "I love