Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 19 I felt him tense beside me. "Why do you want to know?" +25 Bonus "Because you almost told me on the plane. And because..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "I think I know what it's like to have your trust broken." Christian drew in a deep breath. "Francesca worked for Montgomery Wineries. Our biggest competitor." His voice was low, controlled. "We met at a wine fair four years ago. We started seeing each other, and... I fell in love." The admission startled me. It was hard to imagine Christian Kensington in love, vulnerable.

"For three years, I thought we had something real." He paused, and I felt his fingers tighten slightly around mine. "Until I caught her stealing fermentation formulas it took us decades to develop. Cultivation methods. Market strategies." "How did you find out?" "I caught her in my office, copying files. When I confronted her... she didn't even try to deny it. She said she'd been hired for that from the start. That our relationship was just... a means to an end." The pain in his voice was almost tangible.

In that moment, I understood why he kept everyone at arm's length, why he seemed so cynical about relationships. "And the worst part," he went on, his voice now barely a whisper, "is that she was also having an affair with my best friend at the time. Richard. He... was in on it too. The two of them were planning to take everything to Montgomery together." Without thinking, I shifted closer to him. "Christian, that's awful." "Yeah. It was." He let out a sigh that seemed to carry years of hurt. "After that, my grandfather nearly lost faith in me completely.

Said I'd risked the family legacy for a woman. And maybe he was right." 1 I didn't know what to say. For the first time, I saw Christian as he truly was-not the arrogant billionaire, not the man who calculated every move, but someone deeply wounded. Someone who had lost the ability to trust. Someone like me. "I think that's why you and I..." he began, but stopped, as if reconsidering his words. "What?" "Nothing. Forget it." On impulse, I reached out and touched his face in the dark. "You're not to blame for what she did," I whispered.

"Believing in someone isn't a weakness." I felt his hand cover mine, holding it against his face. "Even when that belief destroys you?" "Yes. Even then." I swallowed hard, thinking of Alex, of Elise, of all the times I doubted myself after their betrayal. "Because the alternative is to never trust anyone again. And that... that would be the real defeat." 3/4 25 Rous Chapter 19 But before he could continue, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The glow of the screen briefly lit the room. Reaching for it broke the moment, the space between us widening instantly.

I sighed, setting the phone back down. When I looked at Christian again, something had shifted. He leaned away slightly, as though the interruption had broken a spell. "The rain's easing up," he remarked, the thunder now faint and distant. "Yeah... it

night, Zoey." "Good night," I replied, an odd hollowness settling in my chest. Despite my exhaustion, sleep didn't come easily. When it finally did, I dreamed of endless vineyards and secrets whispered in the dark. The next morning, I woke to the sound of a low, controlled voice. Christian stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, already dressed in slacks and a crisp shirt. "Yes, confirm all the tables are ready by noon. And make sure the tasting area is flawless." He paused, listening. " No,

plan." Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, flooding the room in golden light that highlighted every luxurious detail. For a moment, I just watched him, noting how at ease he looked in his role as CEO. It was a side of him far removed from the vulnerable man of last night. 1 He turned, noticing I was awake. "I have to go. Handle it," he said briskly into the phone before hanging up. "Good morning." "Morning," I answered, sitting up in bed, trying

was only wearing the silk slip. "I'll take a quick shower first." He gave a short nod, averting his gaze. "I'll meet you there." When Christian left, I allowed myself a long breath. After the intimacy of the night before, the formality

night before, so much left hanging in the air, that neither of us seemed to know how to move forward. "About tonight's event..." he finally began. "Yes?" "It starts

trip to Europe." I swallowed hard, nerves spiking. The infamous grandfather-the man who demanded a marriage before handing his empire over to his grandson-would be sizing me up tonight. "And what if he doesn't like me?" The question slipped out before I could

any of that. He cares about character." The hours blurred after that, until night finally arrived. I chose an emerald green midi dress-elegant without being over the top-and Carmen kindly helped with my hair, twisting it into a loose bun that framed my face. When