Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 30 Christian's Porsche rolled to a smooth stop in front of my house. The engine shut off, leaving behind only the silence between us so heavy it felt like a third presence in the car. Through the window, I saw my home exactly as I had left it days ago-modest, familiar, a world completely apart from the vineyards and mansions we had left behind. The drive back had been almost entirely silent. A few attempts at conversation died quickly, as if we both knew that any word might shatter the fragile truce we had established.

Christian had been polite, asking if I was comfortable, if I needed to stop anywhere. I had been equally polite, answering in monosyllables. We pretended nothing had happened. That we hadn't slept in the same room, shared personal stories, danced together, and kissed. We pretended there would be no longing. "This is it," Christian finally said, his hands still on the wheel even though the car was parked. "Thank you for everything, Zoey Bennett." The formality in the way he said my full name hurt more than it should have. "Thank you," I replied, my voice coming out strangely steady.

"For clearing my father's debt. For keeping your end of the bargain." Christian nodded, staring ahead, avoiding my eyes. "As promised, it's all resolved. Your father will receive the documents tomorrow." I moved to open the door, but something stopped me. An invisible weight, a hesitation I couldn't explain. My hand hovered in the air, unable to finish the motion. "Will you be alright?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. He looked at me, surprised by the question. "I always am," he said with the kind of confidence that seemed so natural to him.

"I'll find a way." "And your grandfather? He won't..." "I'll make something up. A fight. An irreconcilable disagreement." He shrugged, though the tension in his jaw betrayed him. "Don't worry about me." "Hard not to, when you look so much like a stray dog left out in the rain right now." A small smile tugged at his lips. "Was that almost a compliment?" "Almost." The silence returned, but it wasn't as tense. Something had shifted-just a small crack in the wall we had built between us during the trip.

sound light. "Planning to crash more weddings in the hopes of being mistaken for a gigolo?" Christian let out a short laugh-the first genuine sound since we'd left the vineyard. "I think you're one of a kind in that regard." He looked at me, his eyes softening. "I doubt there's another woman 1/3 in the world who'd mistake Christian Kensington for a male escort." 125

"Anyone would've come to the same conclusion." "Anyone?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or just someone with an imagination as vivid as yours?" "I'm starting to think you enjoyed the confusion." "Maybe I did." His voice dropped an octave. "It gave my overly planned life a touch of... unexpected." That silence returned again. The kind filled with unsaid

my house, noting it was completely dark. It was Sunday-my parents had probably gone to the street market, Matthew was at soccer, and Annie was likely just waking up at a friend's place after a night out. The house would be empty. "Thanks for bringing me back." I tried to smile, but my lip trembled slightly. "Back

"Especially with them." His smile returned, but with a

we were back at the vineyard, sharing a private joke while the world