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Chapter 270
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Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire Chapter 272
The scenery outside the car window shifted gradually, trading London's urban gray for the softer, greener tones of the English countryside. There was something hypnotic about the rolling hills dotted with stone houses and fields stretching as far as the eye could see. "Where are we going again?" I asked for the third time, turning to look at Nate, who was driving with a calmness that contrasted sharply with my growing curiosity. "I told you… it's a surprise," he replied, shooting me a playful glance before refocusing on the road. "Trust me." "Famous last words," I teased, but leaned back in my seat, deciding to enjoy the mystery. Something about Nate felt different today. Ever since he'd picked me up that morning, he'd seemed more relaxed, less tense than he had been in days. Like he'd temporarily left the weight of the office—and all its complications—behind. We arrived in a small town that looked straight out of a postcard—cobblestone streets, houses with blooming gardens,
Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire Chapter 271
Annie: Do you think we always know how to recognize the right moment… or do we only realize it when it's already too late? Wanderer: Maybe the right moment doesn't exist. Only the right person. And what we do, or fail to do when they show up. Wanderer: Which brings me to my eighth question: would you forgive someone who messed up… while trying to do the right thing? Annie: I think sometimes we do the right thing… but at the wrong time. And the universe isn't always generous with second chances. So… yes. I would forgive them. But I don't know if I could ever go back to exactly the same place. Because the right moment… might be the one thing you can't recreate. Annie: And speaking of the right moment… would you hate me if I confessed that I think… this isn't ours? Wanderer: Is that your ninth question? Annie: I think I want to leave the tenth one open. Maybe… for the right time. Wanderer: I could never hate you, Annie. Some connections exist just to remind us who we are… ev
Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire Chapter 270
The café I picked had that quintessential London charm I could never resist—exposed brick walls, weathered wooden tables, and the comforting aroma of freshly ground coffee mixing with the soft murmur of early-morning conversations. I'd taken a ride with Nate, who'd dropped me off before heading to the office—not without giving me a gentle kiss that still made my heart race every time I replayed it. I had texted Marcus early, right after waking up. We needed to talk, and I preferred a neutral space—somewhere away from the office and all the curious eyes. He arrived exactly on time, as always. "Good morning," he said as he approached the table where I'd chosen to sit, right by the window facing the busy street. "Good morning, Marcus," I replied, motioning for him to sit. "Thanks for coming." He settled into the chair across from me, ordered an espresso from the waitress who appeared instantly, and studied me with that keen, probing look he always used when he was trying to read a
Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire Chapter 269
I woke without knowing what time it was, only with the sense that sleep had completely abandoned me. The house was wrapped in a deep silence, broken only by the distant hum of London traffic drifting in through the windows. Beside me, Nate slept peacefully, his face relaxed into an expression of calm I rarely saw on him during the day. I slid carefully out of bed, trying not to wake him. I'd pulled on his shirt earlier—now it hung loose on me, the sleeves swallowing half my hands and the hem falling halfway down my thighs. It was warm, soft, and carried his scent—a mix of woodsy notes and something quietly masculine that made me feel strangely at ease. Barefoot, I walked through the hallway, taking the chance to notice details I'd overlooked during our tense conversations or the intensity of the night before. Framed photographs lined the walls—some of Christian in what looked like business-trip settings, others of landscapes that hinted Nate liked to travel whenever he could. The
Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire Chapter 268
It wasn't a romantic kiss or a gentle one. It was abrupt, firm, loaded with all the tension that had built up between us through weeks of corporate games and unspoken feelings. A kiss full of frustration, pent-up desire, anger… every word we couldn't say and every feeling we'd tried to rationalize. Nate kissed me back immediately, as if that moment had shattered the last barrier of control he'd been holding onto. His hands came up to frame my face, his fingers tangling in my hair, and his body pressed against mine with an intensity that felt like a physical answer to everything we'd avoided saying. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent. Every breath was short and uneven, and every touch felt like a silent confession, more honest than anything we could've tried to speak. His hands moved down my body slowly, steady and sure, as if there wasn't room for hesitation anymore. I didn't know who started it, but suddenly we were stripping away layers of fabric like they were the last wal
Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire Chapter 267
I reached Nate's house with my heart pounding, every step down that tree-lined path tightening the knot of determination and nerves tangled inside me. When I rang the doorbell, he opened almost immediately, leaning against the doorframe like he'd been waiting there. There was something in the way he held himself that told me he already knew exactly why I'd come. "So you already heard," he said, completely unsurprised. "HR told me this morning," I replied, stopping a few feet from him, trying to keep some physical space between us—space I hoped would help me think straight. "I'm back on Monday, but under supervision." Something about the way he stood there bothered me deeply. Too controlled and prepared, like he'd rehearsed this conversation in his head before I even showed up. It was the same professional mask he wore in high-stakes meetings, when he had to negotiate impossible contracts or handle delicate situations. "Do you even want me to come back?" I asked, going straigh
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