Todos os capítulos de Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: Capítulo 621 - Capítulo 630

Gwen's POV The rooftop café was one of my favorite places in Florentia. From one side, you could see the grand cathedral’s dome rising over the city. From the other, the river cut through the rooftops like a ribbon of light. And the almond croissants were practically a religious experience. It was Friday morning, before work. I was sitting at a small table with a panoramic view, trying not to show the panic slowly building in my chest. Dante sat across from me, sipping his double espresso with the infuriating calm of someone who had absolutely no problems in the world. "You're acting weird," he observed, studying me over the rim of his cup. "You've been eating that croissant for ten minutes and you've barely taken three bites." I glanced at my plate. He was right. "I'm nervous," I admitted at last. "Nervous about what?" he asked, leaning his elbow on the table. "Nick's coming to Florentia tomorrow," I said, as if that explained everything. And in a way, it did.

Nicholas' POV I turned off the engine and sat there for a second, hands still gripping the steering wheel, like I could throw the car into reverse and pretend I'd driven to the wrong city. I didn't. The garage was too clean and organized. Expensive cars filled the spaces around me. Mine looked like it had wandered in by mistake. I followed the signs to the elevators, trying to ignore the creeping sense that I didn't belong here. The panel was stainless steel, polished like a mirror. Above the buttons, a small screen asked for a code. I remembered what the doorman had said, pulled out the slip of paper he'd handed me, and typed it in. A discreet beep. The penthouse button lit up. The doors slid closed, and suddenly it was just me and my reflection. Stubble. Simple shirt. The kind of exhaustion that never really leaves. For a second, Renee's message flashed through my mind again. 'You have no idea who Gwen really is.' I closed my eyes and took a slow breath. I knew

Gwen's POV I stood up so fast my chair nearly tipped over. "Nick!" I called again, louder this time. He didn't stop or look back. He just kept walking through the restaurant with long, determined strides. I grabbed my purse, muttered a rushed apology to a completely confused Paul, and hurried after him. By the time I reached the street, Nick was almost halfway down the block, walking fast, shoulders rigid, hands shoved into his pockets. "Nick!" I shouted, running toward him. "Wait!" He slowed. Stopped. But didn't turn around. I reached him, slightly out of breath, my heart racing. Not from the run. From the panic clawing up my chest. "Nick, please," I said, touching his arm. He turned then. And the look on his face cut straight through me. It wasn't anger. Or not just anger. It was humiliation. Shame. A deep, aching hurt. "Why did you leave like that?" I asked, my voice shaking. He stared at me like I'd asked the most absurd question in the world.

Gwen's POV Nick stared at the wine label. Kensington, written in elegant gold letters against a dark background. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. The silence stretched between us. Heavy. Suffocating. Finally, he lifted his eyes to mine, something unreadable in his expression. "Kensington…" he said slowly. "As in Kensington Wines?" It was like he could see it but still couldn't quite believe it. Like he needed to hear it out loud to make it real. "Exactly," I confirmed, my voice softer than I intended. He placed the bottle back on the table with exaggerated care, as if it might shatter. "You're the owner of Kensington Wines?" he asked plainly. "Technically, Christian is," I corrected quickly. "He's the CEO of Kensington. I'm just the COO for Valentia." Nick frowned, confusion deepening. "COO?" he repeated. "What does that even mean?" There was something almost endearing about the way he didn't understand that part of my world. I had

Gwen's POV Nick's hands slid from my back down to my waist, firm and possessive. He pulled me closer until there was no space left between our bodies, not even air. I felt him start to swim backward, taking me with him without ever breaking the kiss. My back hit the cool edge of the pool. The cold marble clashed with the warm water and the heat coming off his body. Nick pressed me against the wall, his body covering mine completely. Through the soaked fabric, I could feel every tense muscle, every hard line pushing against me. "Gwen," he murmured against my mouth, his voice rough and thick with need. I opened my eyes. His were inches away. Dark green, almost black in the low light, burning with pure, reckless desire. His hands moved up my back to the clasp of my bra. A soft click, and the wet fabric came loose, drifting up to the surface like a forgotten leaf. He pulled back just enough to look at me. His gaze moved slowly over my bare upper body, deliberate, as if he were dr