Todos os capítulos de Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: Capítulo 301 - Capítulo 310

My apartment had never felt so small or so quiet when I walked through the door. I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter harder than necessary, the sharp clatter echoing through the empty space in a way that only emphasized how alone I was. The Uber ride home had been torture. Every red light and every turn gave me more time to think, to relive the discovery. I walked over to the living room window and stared out at London stretching endlessly in front of me. The city lights blinked as they always did, completely indifferent to the emotional wreckage inside me. People were going about their lives as if nothing had changed, while mine had been flipped upside down in a matter of minutes. I needed to talk to someone. But I knew Zoey well enough to know that if I called her in this state, my sister would be on the first transatlantic flight to check on me in person. The only other person I could call wouldn't be a friendly conversation, but it was better than keeping everything bottl

Nathaniel's POVThe last few days had been their own special kind of torture. My morning routine had turned into a pathetic ritual: pick up my phone, type out a message to Annie, delete it, rewrite it, delete it again—until I finally landed on something that didn't sound too desperate. Good morning felt safe. Asking how she was felt risky—it might come across like I was demanding a response. Sometimes I commented on something mundane from my day, hoping it would sound casual. It was an impossible balance between staying present and not invading the space she so clearly needed. Every word was weighed and reweighed before I hit send. Every message was a careful attempt to show I hadn't given up, without sounding like I was begging. But the worst part came after every message was sent. My heart raced every time my phone lit up with a notification, some ridiculously hopeful part of me convinced it might be Annie. That maybe this time she'd decided to talk. That maybe she was ready to

The magical moment of locking eyes with Nate was cut short before I could fully process what I'd felt. I had barely taken two steps toward the terrace when a man approached me with a confident, charming smile, subtly blocking my path. "Impressive how unpredictable English weather can be—even indoors," he said in a refined Eisenwald accent, gesturing toward the windows where rain had just begun to tap softly against the glass. "Outside it's pouring, yet in here you've managed to create a perpetual summer." I couldn't help a genuine laugh. "That's true," I replied with an easy smile. "I think the English have perfected the art of completely ignoring their own weather. If we depended on it to celebrate, London would be a much quieter city." "Exactly!" he laughed, clearly pleased that he'd made me smile. "Klaus Reinhardt, by the way." The last name made me pause instantly. Reinhardt. As in Reinhardt Industries, the largest buyer of Kensington's organic line in Euradia, responsibl

Alexandra's POV The sharp click of my Louboutin heels against the marble floor echoed through the hotel room, an impatient rhythm that perfectly matched my mood. Forty-five minutes. Forty-five damn minutes waiting to see if my plan would actually work. I stopped in front of the mirror and adjusted my red dress for the third time, irritated not just by the delay but by the space itself. The reflection staring back at me was flawless, as always—hair perfectly styled in elegant waves, makeup done by one of the best artists in London, exclusive Lennox jewelry catching the light. And yet, even though it was a Rosemont Hotel and I knew quality when I saw it, I had never stayed in such a… subpar room. The executive suite was nice, sure, with panoramic views of London and high-end finishes, but I usually stayed in presidential suites. Places where I belonged. Spaces that properly reflected my social standing, my status, my importance. But with everything fully booked for New Year's Eve

Nathaniel's POV I'd spent the last twenty minutes discreetly searching for Annie around the Rosemont Hotel ballroom, weaving through endless clusters of conversation and obligatory greetings. I shook hands with executives eager to talk about future partnerships, smiled politely at important clients who couldn't stop discussing business even at a party, and made small talk with colleagues, all while scanning the room for that white dress that had caught my breath when she arrived. I checked near the buffet, where she might've been chatting. I looked out on the terraces, thinking maybe she'd stepped outside for some air. I even peeked into the quieter lounges of the hotel, hoping she'd gotten pulled into a more private conversation. Nothing. Annie had vanished. We hadn't even had a real chance to talk yet. But that smile she had given me when our eyes met across the crowded room had been enough to reignite a hope I thought I'd lost for good. It was nothing like the distant, guard