Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 656 Gwen's POV | didn't tell him | was coming. | just got in my car Friday morning, told Dante to handle anything urgent, and drove straight to Montelira. To the estate. Parts of the property were almost unrecognizable. Metal scaffolding wrapped around the wing damaged by the fire. Blue tarps covered sections of the roof. Men in yellow helmets moved back and forth carrying materials, operating machinery. The sound of power saws and pneumatic drills echoed through hills that were usually quiet. And yet it was still familiar. Deeply familiar.

The vineyards were as green and perfectly aligned as ever, endless rows stretching in clean geometric patterns. The scent of warm earth and ripening grapes filled the air. The Castorian sky arched wide and blue above everything, indifferent to the human chaos below. It was beautiful here. It always had been. | parked near the main house, in the part untouched by the fire. | turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, breathing. ---- Bracing myself. Then | stepped out, closed the door with quiet determination, and went looking for Nick Paula spotted me first. "Gwen!" she said, surprised.

"| didn't know you were coming today. Nick is-" "Where is he?" | asked gently but firmly. She pointed toward the reconstruction site. "Over there with the contractor. Something about structural beams." | headed in that direction, workers greeting me politely as | passed. | found him with his back to me, leaning over architectural plans spread across a makeshift wooden table. His jeans were streaked with dust. His sleeves rolled up. His hair messy, like he'd run his hands through it a dozen times. "Nick," | called. He turned sharply, eyes widening when he saw me. "Gwen? What...

why are you here?" ---- "We need to talk," | said. | saw the tension hit his shoulders instantly. "I'm kind of busy right now," he began, gesturing vaguely at the construction around us. "Maybe later-" "No," | cut in. "Now." The contractor standing beside him looked between us awkwardly. "ll.. check on the materials that just arrived," he muttered before quickly walking away. Nick let out a heavy breath. "Gwen, this isn't a good time-" "It's never a good time," | interrupted. "You're always busy. Always tired.

not fair." "Then what is it?" I challenged, crossing my arms. "Because from where I'm standing, you've been avoiding me for days." His jaw tightened. He looked away. "I'm not avoiding you." ---- "Yes, you are," | said quietly but firmly. "And we both know it." We stood

whispering in the breeze. Around the old stone barn with the red tile roof. Down the dirt path | knew by heart. And then | realized exactly where we were going. The medieval tower. The same tower we had

Just the echo of our footsteps against centuries-old walls. Mine steady behind his. The climb felt longer today. Steeper. Or maybe it was just

beautiful. But | couldn't take it in. Not with the tension between us pulled tight like a wire ready to snap Nick stood with his back to me at first, hands shoved into his jeans pockets, shoulders rigid beneath his work shirt, staring at the horizon like the hills might offer answers. "Well?" | pressed when the silence dragged too long. "Are you going to keep running, or are

push us apart like this. Not after everything." Something cracked across