Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 43 Christian's words kept pounding in my head as I got ready to leave. "It's not like she's really the kind of woman for someone in my position." Each syllable was a small wound reopening, over and over again. I dressed carefully-dark jeans, a tailored blazer, and a simple blouse. Not what I would have worn if I were still representing Sunvale, but enough to blend in at the event without drawing attention. My plan was simple: go to the complex, check if Kensington's presentation went smoothly, and then leave. No confrontations, no drama.

Just the confirmation that my warning about the sabotage had worked. I took a taxi to the convention center, watching the Highridge Valley landscape roll by through the window. The irony wasn't lost on me-how such a beautiful place could be the backdrop to so much pain. The driver, sensing my silence, kept quiet for the whole ride. By the time I arrived, the event was already in full swing. Colorful booths, people circulating with glasses of wine, sommeliers explaining notes and textures...

It felt almost surreal to be there now as an anonymous spectator, without a badge, without responsibilities. But the truth was, I didn't like it. It felt hollow. And I hadn't even started facing the reality that I was unemployed and might soon have to beg for my old job selling wedding dresses again. I kept to the shadows, slipping discreetly around the edges of the hall. I spotted Lisa, my former assistant, looking overwhelmed as she tried to coordinate something at the Sunvale booth. A pang tugged at my chest. Guilt, maybe? I hadn't had the chance to explain to her why I left so abruptly.

for the Kensington booth, easily the most elegant and sophisticated at the event. In contrast to Sunvale's over-the-top splash of colors, Kensington leaned into earthy tones, fine wood, and soft lighting, evoking the atmosphere of their centuries-old cellars. And there was Christian, leading

in his eyes-surprise, confusion, and

the shadows. The minutes ticked by slowly as the auditorium filled. I saw Marcus coordinating

multimedia worked flawlessly, with no sign of technical glitches. Elegant slides complemented his words, videos of the vineyards

professional and controlled. I waited until the end of the Q&A before slipping out discreetly. My mission was accomplished-the presentation was a success. It was time to go. I returned to the mansion in another silent taxi ride, the driver as taciturn as before, giving me space for