All Chapters of Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: Chapter 561 - Chapter 570

Gwen's POV "I'll come back to visit you," I said, wiping the tears from my face and trying to smile at Bella in a reassuring way. That was when I heard someone clear their throat behind us. I turned and saw Nick standing in the doorway. I had no idea how long he'd been there, how much of our conversation he'd overheard. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, his hair messy, like he'd run his hands through it over and over again. "Bella," he said gently, walking closer to the bed, "thank you for keeping an eye on Gwen while she slept. You were a great helper." Bella lit up at the praise, smiling proudly. "But now I need to talk to her alone for a minute, okay?" Nick went on, holding out his hand to his daughter. "Why don't you go see if Nonna needs help in the kitchen?" "Okay, Daddy," Bella said, hopping off the bed. But before leaving, she turned back to me one last time. "You really will come back?" "I will," I promised. And this time, my voice sounded stead

Nicholas' POV The fire in the living room fireplace was almost out when I came downstairs to tend to it one last time before bed. Only a few embers still glowed faintly, casting dancing shadows on the walls. I grabbed the poker and stirred the ashes, making sure everything was safe before adding a couple more logs to keep a minimum amount of warmth through the night. The room was empty. Silent. That was how Sunday nights usually were, after most of the weekend guests had already left. During the week, the inn was practically empty. Just the occasional lone traveler, off-season tourists who came precisely because no one else did and the prices were better. That was how we survived. Dragging ourselves from one weekend to the next. Stretching every euro. Making the money last as long as possible to keep the property running and still pay down the debts that never seemed to shrink, no matter how hard we worked, how much we saved, how many sacrifices we made. It wasn't easy. It

Gwen's POV The meeting had already been going on for an hour and a half, and I had barely registered half of what was being discussed. Numbers flashed on the projection screen in front of me. Sales charts. Forecasts. Market analyses that would normally have me completely absorbed, asking questions, suggesting adjustments, optimizing strategies. But today, my mind was miles away. Or more specifically, about seventy-five miles away, in the Castorian hills, at a small inn surrounded by vineyards and a fireplace that crackled softly at night. My phone vibrated discreetly in my lap under the table. I glanced down quickly, hoping no one noticed. It was a photo. Bella, wearing a ridiculously oversized hat that was clearly Nick's, covering half her face. She was smiling in that way only kids can. The caption read: She insisted the hat made her look older. I agreed because I'm a good dad. I couldn't help it. I laughed. A soft but genuine sound that slipped out before I could s

Gwen's POV The apartment door closed behind me with a soft, final click, sealing off another exhausting day. I tossed my purse onto the couch, kicked off the heels that had tortured my feet for the past twelve hours, and padded barefoot into the kitchen. The apartment was quiet. Just the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant ticking of the clock on the living room wall. The cook had left a plate covered in plastic wrap in the fridge, like she always did. Something that looked like mushroom risotto. I took it out and put it in the microwave, setting it for three minutes without really paying attention. While I waited, I leaned against the cold marble counter and looked around the spotless kitchen. Modern. Expensive. Outfitted with every high-end appliance anyone could want, and completely lifeless. The microwave beeped. I grabbed the plate, a bottle of water from the fridge, and headed to the dining table. The huge table that could easily seat eight people, but where I a

Gwen's POV Screw it. It was literally the only coherent thought I managed to form as I got off the bed and went straight to the closet. Screw the time. Screw common sense. Screw waiting until tomorrow or thinking it through or doing any of the rational things a COO of a multinational company was supposed to do. I was going to Montelira. Now. Tonight. Or technically tomorrow, since it was almost midnight, but that wasn't the point. The point was that I was going. I grabbed a small suitcase and started tossing things inside. Clothes. Any clothes. The first pair of jeans I saw, three random tops, enough underwear for a few days. Toiletries went straight from the bathroom drawer into my makeup bag without ceremony. I zipped the suitcase shut with determination, pulled on the first comfortable outfit I could find, leggings and a sweatshirt because driving through the night demanded comfort, threw a coat over it, and went looking for my car keys. They weren't where I always lef