Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 679 Renee's POV The bathroom floor was cold enough to remind me | was human. The metallic taste in my mouth didn't help. | blinked slowly, trying to piece together the images that were still flashing behind my eyes. The crack of her hand. The force of her body coming at me. The fury in Gwen Kensington's eyes like she had spent her entire life training for that exact second. | hadn't anticipated that. | had imagined Gwen the way | always imagined women like her. Too polished to sweat. Too refined to bite.

The kind who take a hit gracefully and then buy the world's silence with a check. But she had fight in her. And worse than that, it was the kind of fight that humiliates. It wasn't just the physical pain. It was the feeling of being put in my place. Made small. Made disposable. Made pathetic. I clenched my teeth. Pain pulsed up my temple, and | forced myself to breathe through my nose, slow and controlled, as if calm could erase ---- what had just happened. No. | wouldn't stay down. I never have. The difference between most people and mewas simple.

When | lost, | didn't treat it like an ending. | would treat it like a course correction Lying there on that cold floor, | felt the route redrawing itself with almost delicious clarity. Gwen had made a mistake. She stepped out of her perfect role. And that... that was a crack. An opening. An invitation. The real problem was more irritating. A simple fight doesn't turn into a legal war on its own. Two women in a bathroom? The world would laugh.

with a mediocre story. | didn't need the world to laugh. |

my hands on the sink, lifting my gaze to the large mirror above it. The reflection was merciless. Smudged makeup. Eyes bright with anger. Red at my mouth that ---- wasn't lipstick. 'Pathetic,' a small voice inside me whispered l ignored it. "This isn't going to end like this," | murmured, and it wasn't a

the narrative out of her hands. And | needed something no one could "put into perspective." | drew in a deep breath. "Fine. It'll hurt me... but it'll hurt her more." | lifted a hand to my hair, smoothing it back as if | were still preparing for a stage. Ina way, | was. The stage had just changed. Now it was the real world. The audience was the justice system. And the performance needed to be undeniable. | inhaled again, steady and deliberate, and did what had to be done. | wasn't here to be dignified. | was

Now it looked serious. Now it looked dangerous. Now it looked like the kind of scene that turns a "bathroom fight" into something with sharper words attached to it. Assault. Violence. Threat. | smiled at my reflection, not because | was happy. | was furious. But | was in control again. And control has always been my sedative. | adjusted my clothes carefully, as if there were still rules of etiquette to follow. | let my shoulders slump, practiced the right fragility. The