Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 652 Gwen's POV Going back to work had to happen slowly. Much slower than | wanted. Infinitely slower than | was used to. The first week after | was discharged, | could barely sit at my desk for more than two hours before | had to lie down. My ribs protested every breath. The immobilized arm made everything harder. The fatigue came in unpredictable waves that hit without warning. Frustrating wasn't even a strong enough word. But by the second week, something shifted. My mind was finally sharp again, even if my body refused to keep up And that was torture. | could think clearly.

Analyze. Plan. Strategize. My brain was back to full power. But physically executing anything? Impossible without pain. Christian tried to send me home three times just on Monday. "You are literally pale," he argued, standing in my office doorway ---- with a worried look. "Go home and rest." "lam resting," | lied shamelessly, typing up a report one-handed "I'm sitting. See? Resting." He rolled his eyes. "Gwel "Christian," | mimicked in the same tone. "I'm fine. And | have work to do." Work was a generous euphemism for the obsession slowly taking over.

Because besides handling normal Kensington operations, which Mia and Dante had heroically kept afloat during my absence, | had started something else. Something personal. Something critical. A private investigation. | hired the best private investigator money could buy. Not through the company. Through quiet personal contacts. Alexander Ferguson was former police and former military intelligence. Now he specialized in... delicate cases. The kind for clients who needed results and didn't ask too many questions about methods.

on this woman," | said without preamble, handing him a folder with the basic information | had already gathered. "Everything. Finances, relationships, movements over the last six months, communications. Absolutely everything." Alexander flipped through the file calmly, his

| need ammunition to destroy her case." He nodded once. He understood immediately what kind of job this was. "How much time do | have?" "Less than I'd like," | admitted. "The preliminary hearing is in three weeks. Anything you can get before then helps." "Understood," he said simply. "I'll start today." And he did. ---- Over the

that, based on receipts Alexander somehow obtained, had cost a small fortune. Where did the money come from? That part was still under investigation. Second, movements. Security footage from various businesses showed Renee in interesting places in the days leading up to the fire. A hardware store. A gas station buying fuel cans. Meeting with an unidentified man in a secluded parking

debt collection company. Deleted messages that had been recovered, containing suspicious conversations about "solving the problem" and "securing a better future for Bella." All of it was interesting. All of it useful. But nothing definitive. Until today. | was reviewing distribution contracts when my private phone rang. It was Alexander. | answered immediately. "Did you find something?" | asked without

to come to my office. Now, if possible. This is something you'll want to see in person." My heart kicked into a faster rhythm. "mon my way," | said, already grabbing my purse with my good