Lahat ng Kabanata ng Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

Christian's grandfather was exactly as I had imagined: tall, imposing, with perfectly trimmed silver hair and a piercing gaze that seemed to see through any façade. Joseph Kensington carried that kind of presence that commanded immediate respect. He was the type of man who never needed to raise his voice to be heard. As we approached him, I noticed how several guests subtly stepped aside, as if yielding space to a force of nature. He was surrounded by a small group of businessmen, but the moment he saw Christian, he dismissed them with a simple gesture. "Grandfather, this is Zoey Bennett, my fiancée," Christian introduced in a calm voice. I did catch the subtle tension in his shoulders. "At last, we meet, Miss Bennett," said Joseph, extending his hand. His Valentian accent was soft but unmistakable. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Kensington," I replied, my own hand trembling slightly as it met his. His eyes, a striking ice-blue, studied me unhurriedly, as though he were evaluating eve

Francesca Montgomery. The name Christian had spoken that night during the storm, like a scar that still hurt when touched. The woman who had betrayed him in the worst possible way. And now here she was, her hand extended toward me, a calculated smile on her perfect lips. "A pleasure to meet you," I replied, gripping her hand harder than I intended. "Zoey Bennett." "Zoey," she repeated, as if tasting the name, testing it. "What a… unique name. Christian always did have peculiar taste." Her Valentian accent gave her words a melodic tone that clashed with the sharp edge hidden beneath them. Beside me, Christian was like a statue—rigid, almost unrecognizable compared to the man who had kissed me only minutes earlier. "And how did you two meet?" Francesca asked, her dark eyes scanning every inch of my face. "Christian rarely attends events that aren't business-related. Or has that changed?" "Mutual friends," I answered automatically, repeating the story we'd agreed upon. "We saw e

Alex's words lingered in the air between us, heavy with insinuation. My body reacted in a contradictory way—a shiver at the treacherous memory of sensations my heart hadn't completely forgotten. Before I could form a response, a cold, controlled voice cut through the moment. "Am I interrupting something?" Christian stood at the base of the staircase, staring at us with an expression I had never seen before. His eyes—usually warm when they met mine—were hard as stone. His jaw was tight, his posture rigid. Alex smiled, stepping back but showing not the slightest trace of embarrassment. "Just reminiscing with your fiancée," he said with studied casualness. "Zoey and I have… a lot of history." Christian crossed the distance between us with measured steps, placing himself at my side. His arm slid around my waist possessively, his fingers pressing lightly against the thin fabric of my dress. "History. Exactly that," Christian replied, his tone glacial. "Something that belongs i

I studied my reflection in the mirror as I finished applying lipstick. The dress I had chosen for the event was a deep shade of blue, cut as if it had been tailored precisely for my body. The fluid silk moved smoothly with every step, creating an ethereal effect that contrasted with the simplicity of the design. Like all of Christian's other gifts, it was elegant without being flashy, sophisticated without excess. Christian had already gone down to check the final preparations, leaving me alone with my restless thoughts. The conversation from the night before still echoed in my head: him admitting he still felt something for Francesca, me revealing my long-buried dream in public relations. Two broken people pretending to be a perfect couple—the irony wasn't lost on me. When I finally descended to the vineyards where the event was being held, I almost didn't recognize the place. The rustic elegance of the winery had been transformed into a colorful spectacle that looked like it had

Zoey's POV I ran. Without direction, without purpose—just away. Away from that scene. Away from him. The image of Christian and Francesca so close, their lips nearly touching, burned in my mind like a hot brand. "Don't worry. It's over," he had said before walking out. Now I finally understood what those words really meant. I wasn't supposed to care. This was a deal, nothing more. Christian Kensington owed me no fidelity, no loyalty beyond what we had agreed upon. So why did my chest ache like I'd taken a punch? Why was my vision blurred with tears that refused to stop falling? My steps carried me through the gardens, then into the vineyards, the moonlight lighting my way between the rows of vines. The blue dress that had seemed so perfect hours ago now tangled around my knees, slowing my escape. Not that it mattered where I was going. There was no running from myself, from the traitorous emotions clawing at me. I finally stopped, breathless, at a small overlook on top of a h