Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 24 Christian turned to me, the question about Francesca still hanging in the air between us. Then, surprisingly, he smiled that crooked smile that seemed reserved for the moments when he decided to change the rules of the game. "And you?" he asked, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you still care about Alex?" The question caught me completely off guard. For a moment, it felt like the ground disappeared beneath my feet. It was a fair question, but somehow it felt more intimate, more invasive than mine about Francesca.

"You know I do," I admitted, turning my gaze toward the dark vineyards. "It's not something you get over overnight." Christian leaned in slightly on the balcony, close enough that our arms nearly touched. "I have to ask," his voice was unexpectedly gentle. "Do you really care about him, or do you care about the idea of winning him back? About showing Elise that you won and she lost?" The question was so precise it almost hurt physically. No one had ever put into words what, deep down, I had already asked myself. Did I still love Alex, the man who betrayed and humiliated me?

Or did I love the idea of victory, of revenge, of proving I wasn't so easily replaced? I took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs. I decided to be honest-with Christian and with myself. "Both, I guess," I whispered. "Part of me still remembers the man I fell in love with. The other part just... doesn't want to feel like I lost everything, like I was so easily replaced.", Something flickered across Christian's face-understanding, maybe? Or something deeper? "You didn't lose everything, Zoey," he said, his voice steady.

"You gained the chance to find someone who truly values you." I looked at him-really looked at him. In the soft glow of the garden lights, Christian seemed different-less the calculating CEO, more the man who held my hand during the storm. And then it hit me: he had skillfully avoided my original question. "You didn't answer about Francesca," I pointed out. "Do you still have feelings for her?" Something shifted in his eyes, a shadow passing over his face. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, we were interrupted. "Mr.

entrance. "It's time for your speech. Your grandfather is asking for you." Christian frowned, clearly frustrated by the interruption, but nodded. "Tell him I'll be there in a minute." When we were alone again, he turned back to me. "We'll talk about this later," he promised, offering me his arm. "Shall we?" The rest of the night blurred into a parade of faces, shallow conversations, and clinking wine glasses. Christian

shiver of unease ran through me. The next day slipped by almost without me noticing. Christian was busy with a small investor event at the main vineyard complex-meetings, presentations, business lunches. I stayed at the mansion, wandering the gardens with Carmen as my guide, listening to stories about

how, little by little, I was stepping into this world, absorbing fragments of his life. But at no point did we end up alone long enough to resume our interrupted conversation. Christian seemed deliberately busy, and I couldn't tell if it was because of the events-or because he was

my ankles. "You look like a true Kensington," she said as she pinned my hair into an elegant bun, leaving a few loose strands to frame my face. The word caught me off guard. A Kensington. As if I really were becoming part of this family, this legacy. As if all of this wasn't an elaborate lie waiting to collapse. "Christian had to go down earlier," Carmen explained

brushing the polished wooden banister, feeling like an imposter in some period drama. In the entrance hall, I paused, trying to catch where the voices were coming from. That's when I realized I wasn't alone. "Zoey." The familiar voice made my heart jolt. Alex was standing near the entrance to the dining