All Chapters of Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: Chapter 671 - Chapter 680

Gwen's POV We slipped out quietly. Just… disappeared in the middle of a loud song, with Christian giving us that look that said I know exactly what you're about to do and Zoey shouting "Have fun!" in a way that made my face heat up instantly. The drive back to the apartment was pure torture. Nick drove with one hand on the wheel and the other firmly planted on my thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the fabric of my dress. Climbing inch by inch. Testing every limit of my self-control. "You're doing that on purpose," I accused, my voice coming out embarrassingly rough. He smiled without taking his eyes off the road, but his hand slid higher. "Doing what, exactly?" "Teasing me." "Me?" His fingers brushed dangerously high, making my breath catch. "I would never do that." I bit my lip hard and slid my own hand along his thigh in retaliation, feeling the muscle tense beneath his dress pants. I felt him go completely rigid when my fingers brushed exactly where I

Gwen's POV Morning started with that quiet you only get in an empty house. It wasn't a sad silence. It was… intimate. The kind where your body is still completely in yesterday, but your mind is trying to catch up with what actually happened in real life. I walked downstairs barefoot, wearing one of Nick's shirts. The hem hit mid-thigh, and the fabric still smelled like him. A scent that kept reminding me, whether I wanted it to or not, just how happy I'd been when I fell asleep. In the kitchen, I stopped in front of the counter like I was facing a wild animal. Breakfast. I was Gwen Kensington, the businesswoman who could close contracts, but who had to open a cabinet and wonder if the frying pan was "that flat thing" or "that other thing that looks like a spaceship." I opened the fridge. Stared at the milk. Closed it. Opened it again like the second time might come with instructions. I grabbed bread. Butter. Fruit. Safe things. Things that didn't burn. Then I turned o

Gwen's POV If this event hadn't been scheduled months ago, with printed invitations, blocked calendars, confirmed RSVPs, and a fully aligned team, I wouldn't have gone. I would have come up with an elegant excuse. An unavoidable meeting. A sudden migraine. A "last-minute emergency" delivered with the ease of someone who, honestly, could afford to disappear for a night. But it wasn't just a night. It was a stage. A microphone. A photo. A title: Women and Leadership. And in the last few days, my life had turned into a series of small survivals that didn't fit neatly into a panel discussion. I stood in front of the bedroom mirror, adjusting a simple earring, when Nick appeared behind me. He didn't say anything right away. He just watched me with that look that always seemed to know what I wasn't saying. He stepped closer and rested his hands on the vanity on either side of me, without trapping me in. It was a simple gesture, and still, I felt like someone had set a comfortin

Gwen's POV The door was locked. The click still echoed in my head like a warning. No one was coming in here by accident. Outside, the muffled noise of the event carried on. Laughter, footsteps, a microphone being tested. In here, I was just a woman trying not to fall apart. Renee, on the other hand, looked far too comfortable. Leaning against the sink with the posture of someone who felt like she owned the place, as if an event restroom were just another extension of her world. I stepped further into the room, making it clear that I wasn't going to back down simply because she fed on retreat. "I know exactly what you want," I began. "And let me save you some time. You're never getting a cent of my money." "Oh…" she said, sounding almost pleased. "That's adorable. The billionaire thinks the center of the universe is her bank account." It might have been funny if it hadn't been so calculated. If she weren't trying to turn me into a caricature. The untouchable rich woman who

Renee's POV The bathroom floor was cold enough to remind me I was human. The metallic taste in my mouth didn't help. I blinked slowly, trying to piece together the images that were still flashing behind my eyes. The crack of her hand. The force of her body coming at me. The fury in Gwen Kensington's eyes like she had spent her entire life training for that exact second. I hadn't anticipated that. I had imagined Gwen the way I always imagined women like her. Too polished to sweat. Too refined to bite. The kind who take a hit gracefully and then buy the world's silence with a check. But she had fight in her. And worse than that, it was the kind of fight that humiliates. It wasn't just the physical pain. It was the feeling of being put in my place. Made small. Made disposable. Made pathetic. I clenched my teeth. Pain pulsed up my temple, and I forced myself to breathe through my nose, slow and controlled, as if calm could erase what had just happened. No. I wouldn'