Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 8 +25 Bonus I paced back and forth in my room, feeling what little sanity I had left drain away along with my remaining dignity. Christian's message blinked on my phone screen like a flashing disaster warning: "Our conversation isn't over, sweetheart." "Okay, it's fine," I muttered to myself, rubbing my face with both hands. "I confused a billionaire CEO with a gigolo." Who was I kidding? That doesn't happen. Not ever. To anyone normal. My phone buzzed again. Annabelle had sent more screenshots of the social media comments. My name plastered across every gossip account imaginable.

[Who is the mysterious woman who stole Christian Kensington's heart?] [Billionaire CEO appears smitten! Is the country's most eligible bachelor finally settling down?] [Christian Kensington's new fiancée comes out of nowhere! Mystery or scam?] I scrolled through them, my stomach sinking lower with every comment. [She looks like a gold digger.] [Wow, he could have anyone and he chose her?] [She's pretty, but you can tell she's plotting something.] [I ship them! #Chriszy] I let the phone drop onto my bed, a lump forming in my throat.

It wasn't just the humiliation of mistaking a billionaire for a high-class escort. It was the same old story all over again-people judging me, deciding I wasn't enough, questioning what someone like him could possibly see in someone like me. Elise's words echoed in my mind, poisoned barbs sinking deeper. "You've always been so boring... You've never had anything special." And now the entire world seemed to be agreeing with her. I sank onto the edge of the bed, hugging myself like I could shield my body from all the stares and whispers.

contained-to our circle of friends and acquaintances. This was different. This was my name, my face, my private life broadcast to strangers who had no hesitation in reducing me to "golddigger" or "opportunist." All I wanted was to crawl under the covers and never come

life had become and went grocery shopping with my mom. It was Sunday. Supposedly a calm day. Or at least, that was what I thought until I stepped into the market and felt something was off. 1 At first, I chalked it up to paranoia. Until I noticed people were... subtly turning their phones in my direction. My mom noticed immediately.

mess!" "Zoey." I exhaled, avoiding her eyes. "Fine, I may have accidentally become a minor internet celebrity for a completely ridiculous reason, but it's not a big deal!" My mom's eyebrows shot

If hell had a special level, I was standing right in it. "Excuse me, miss... can I get a selfie?" the cashier asked with a nervous smile. "Me?" "Yes! You're Christian Kensington's

"At home, Mom. At home." But things didn't get any better once we got home. All I wanted was to dodge the interrogation from my mom, put on some dumb series, forget my life was imploding, and pretend everything would magically go back to normal in a few hours. Instead, the moment I opened the