Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 81

Our last day in Valentia was filled with goodbyes. Goodbye to the villa, with its painted ceilings and windows framing postcard views. Goodbye to Lucy, who hugged me as if I’d been family for years, whispering blessings in Valentian and pressing a small package into my hands-later I discovered it held a set of Castorian spices “for when you feel homesick.” Goodbye to Gwen, who promised to visit us in Verdania soon.

Above all, goodbye to the version of ourselves we had been here.

Because now time was running out. Reality loomed, relentless as the storm clouds darkening the horizon on our drive to Florence airport.

“Do you think Lucy will be all right?” I asked, trying to fill the silence that had settled between us since the previous night’s conversation, “She seemed so emotional when we said goodbye.”

“Lucy’s always been emotional,” Christian replied, his eyes fixed on the road. “But she’s strong”

“She’s amazing, I’ll miss her.”

“We can come back,” he said, glancing at me briefly. “Someday.”

The promise hung between us, fragile and ambiguous. Someday when? After the six months? Together, or apart?

The private jet was waiting on the runway, a sight that had become strangely familiar but still carried an air of unreality. It felt as though my life had split in two-before and after Christian Kensington.

The crew welcomed us with professional smiles, handling the luggage which was considerably larger than on the way there, thanks to Virelia shopping. Christian exchanged a few words with the pilot while I settled into the same seat I’d occupied two weeks earlier, when we were still strangers trying to define the boundaries of our arrangement.

Now, the boundaries felt blurrier than ever.

The flight back was quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Christian worked on his laptop most of the time, answering emails and taking calls-the CEO mask sliding back into place. I alternated between pretending to read a book and staring out the window, trying to process everything that had happened in Valentia.

At night, when the cabin lights dimmed, Christian finally closed the computer and sat beside me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low in the hush of the jet.

“Just a little tired,” I lied, forcing a smile. The truth that I was terrified of returning to reality and what it would mean for our strange relationship felt too heavy to say out loud.

“Try to get some sleep.” He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over mine. “We still have a few hours.”

images the moonlit vineyards, the village square during the festival, Christian’s face under the stars as he pointed out constellations, that same face closing off when we talked about

apart.

must have dozed off, because I startled

city sprawling below-so different from Castoria’s rolling hills. The vast sweep of Luzmar Bay, the curve of Celeste and Enchanted Beach, Crystal Mountain rising against the sky. It was home, yet somehow it felt foreign

watching too, his profile outlined

he murmured,

like we were gone much longer than two

we lived in an alternate reality, where we were simply

we were returning not

We pl

Cow dalistnat hard

the dermitive

our carry-ons. I watched him from a distance, noticing thaw, shager, the

Mate the aparte, Ang the bags as teaded toward a discreet black

chaic, load, alive in a completely different way. But

“Christian said, breaking the

offered his tone cartelle casual. “Or you can

the offer burg be

some things to take care

emite hated that come

stopped i tot of wermate beling i Bolgo,

come up te what sundig dust insures different from the confident CEO or the

courss” I said without really

by

ནིསིཏནྟཱི ནྟི ཙ ནེནཏྠཾ ཀསོཝཧིཏྭཱ རཱནཱ པཱཝིཏིག སཱན། ཧེ

up in the small slightly claustrophobic elevator, I realised how strange this must feel for him. My two-bedroom apartment could probably fit inside

gas red saddenly

He looked genuinely

Simple. Nothing like what

me in a