Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 667 Nicholas' POV The call from the school came on a Tuesday blazing with sun, the kind of day when construction dust sticks to your skin like a second layer. | had a hard hat on and a clipboard in my hand, arguing internally about why the supplier had delivered the damn beam in the wrong dimensions, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Bella's school. "Hello?" | answered, forcing my voice neutral. "Mr. Valemont? This is the Isabella's school office. The principal would like to speak with you. It's... an important matter." My stomach tightened. "Did something happen?

Is she hurt?" "No, not an accident. But we would appreciate it if you could come in today. As soon as possible." | looked around the construction site. Workers hauling materials. The metallic screech of tools. The controlled chaos. Suddenly none of it mattered. ---- "lll be there in ten minutes," | said. And | was. Montelira wasn't big, and the drive from the estate to the school was muscle memory. | made it in half the time, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. It had been a week since Bella screamed that | was going to abandon her.

A week since Gwen walked out of that bedroom with shattered eyes and silence hanging like stone. That week, | had tried to do everything right. More presence. More conversation. More routine. More "I'm here." More "Nothing is changing." And still, the school was calling. | parked badly and walked in, still smelling like sawdust and sweat. The secretary recognized me immediately and gestured down the hallway without even asking "Principal's office." | turned the comer. And stopped. Renee was there. ---- Sitting in a plastic chair in the hallway like she owned the place. Legs crossed.

Perfect posture. Phone in hand. She looked up when she saw me and smiled like she'd been expecting me. Of course she had. Heat flared in my chest. "What are you doing here?" | asked quietly. It was still a school. Kids were walking past. She raised an eyebrow slowly "I'm here because of my daughter," she said, as if I'd asked something ridiculous. "Why else would | be here?" "L wasn't informed you were coming." "!'m her mother. No one needs your permission to inform me of anything." l inhaled slowly. Not here. Not now. "What did the school tell you?" | asked. "They said Isabella has been...

in class, trying to look normal while a storm raged inside her. "This didn't

The office smelled like coffee and paper. There were neat stacks of files, a window overlooking the courtyard, and an old class photo on the wall filled with smiling children. ----

some concerning changes." Renee adjusted her hair like she was sitting down for an interview. | stayed quiet. Waiting for the strike. "She's been more distracted in class," the principal continued. " Interrupting more often. Losing track during explanations. She seems... elsewhere." My chest tightened. "She also scored below her usual standard on the last assessment," the principal added, sliding a

| couldn't shield her. ---- "She has never displayed this kind of behavior before," the principal went on. "So my question is simple. Has anything changed in her routine? At home? Any shift that could be affecting her

trying to protect me from "oversharing." "It's natural, isn't it?" she continued smoothly, turning to the principal with calm authority. "Children feel these things. She's afraid of losing her place. It's a delicate phase." The principal nodded slowly, like she'd been handed a reasonable explanation. "L understand," she said gently. "Well, first of all... congratulations. Renee didn't blink. ---- I did "Congratulations?" | repeated before