Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 22 Joseph's question hung in the air, heavy as lead. 'Do you really love him?' Five simple words that knocked the wind out of me, as if I'd been punched in the stomach. My mind spun in a whirlwind of thoughts. Lying to Christian's grandfather about how we first met was one thing, but declaring love? That was different. Deeper. More intimate. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My palms grew sweaty, and I could feel the weight of Joseph's intense gaze pressing on me, waiting for an answer. The truth? No, I didn't love Christian. How could I?

Our relationship was a farce, a business deal dressed up as romance. But then... Why did the memory of him lying beside me during the storm come to mind? Why did I suddenly see the vulnerability in his eyes when he talked about Francesca? Or the way he held my hands when he confessed he'd grown up practically alone? "Grandpa," Christian cut in, his calm voice breaking through the heavy silence. "Some things are too important to be laid bare like this." Joseph raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Christian smiled-that smile, the one he only ever wore in genuine moments -and placed his hand over mine.

"But if you need confirmation..." he went on, turning to me. "I think it's pretty clear what we feel for each other." Before I could process his words, Christian leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't like the teasing kiss from days ago, nor the fiery moments we'd shared in the pool. This was different. It was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were truly asking permission. As if he was respecting my boundaries, yet still putting something real into the gesture. When he pulled back, my heart was racing in a way that had nothing to do with nerves or fear.

murmur, still feeling Christian's lips lingering on mine. "And when do you plan to make it official?" he asked bluntly. "The vineyard would be the perfect setting for

conversation could veer into even more dangerous territory, we were interrupted by Marcus, who approached quickly. "Grandpa Joseph,

I let out the breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. Christian guided me to a quieter spot, near one of the panoramic windows overlooking the vineyards, lit beautifully with strategic lights. "You were amazing," he said softly,

course, to him it was nothing more than part of the act. "Why didn't you ever mention you made wines?" I asked, changing the subject. "Your grandfather seemed really proud of what you've developed." Something shifted in his eyes, as if I'd touched a sensitive spot. "It's... complicated." Christian ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I was starting to recognize as a

I failed... well, let's just say he wasn't nearly as understanding." There was more to that story, I realized. More layers to