Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 640 Nicholas' POV | don't really remember how | got to the car. One second | was standing in my bedroom, gripping my phone so tightly it hurt, listening to Dante's strained voice say, "Gwen was in a serious accident. She's in emergency surgery right now." The next, | was running down the stairs with my keys in my hand. Martina appeared out of nowhere as | rushed past the kitchen. "Nick?" she called, alarmed. "What happened? Youre pale." "| have to go," was all | managed to say without slowing down, without really looking at her. "Emergency in Florentia.

Please take care of Bella when she gets back from her friend's house." | didn't wait for confirmation. | didn't wait for questions. | couldn't. | pushed out the door, crossed the yard in long, unsteady strides. | got into the car, shoved the key into the ignition with visibly shaking hands, and started the engine. It growled unevenly. Dante had rattled off the address before hanging up. A private hospital in Florentia. A long name | barely registered. | just ---- punched it into the GPS with trembling fingers and followed the mechanical voice.

| slammed my foot on the gas before I'd even fully cleared the dirt lot. The road blurred around me. Trees melted into green streaks. The blue sky smeared overhead. Gray asphalt raced beneath the tires. Curves | usually took carefully, respecting both the road and the age of my car, | cut through aggressively. Pushing the limit. Maybe past it. | didn't care. Gwen was in emergency surgery. Surgery meant serious injuries. Real risk. It meant she could- No. | refused to let my mind finish that thought. She was going to be fine. She had to be. There was no other acceptable outcome.

But Dante's voice on the phone hadn't sounded remotely calm. It hadn't sounded reassuring. It had sounded too controlled, like someone trying desperately not to fall apart. ---- | gripped the worn leather steering wheel so hard my fingers cramped. | forced myself to push away the dark thoughts that kept breaking through. The road stretched endlessly ahead, winding through Tuscan hills that on any other day | would've found beautiful. Today they were just obstacles between me and Florentia. Every minute dragged like an hour. Eventually, | passed the stretch of road Renee had mentioned.

yellow police tape forgotten and snagged on a low tree branch, fluttering in the wind. My stomach turned. So it was true. A serious accident had happened right there. And it had been Gwen's car. Florentia finally appeared in the distance. | crossed into the city well above any

expensive, just from the look of it. All glass and steel. Clean, minimalist lines. An elegant overhang supported by thin columns. A perfectly manicured garden in front. It looked more like a five-star international hotel than a medical facility. | parked crooked in the first spot

Gwen Kensington," | said, heading straight to reception. "My name is Nicholas Valemont." The receptionist lifted her professional gaze, quickly assessed my obvious state, then turned back to her screen and typed efficiently. "Private waiting room. Third floor, west wing," she said calmly, pointing with an expensive pen toward the mirrored elevators. " Her family is already waiting upstairs." ---- | didn't thank her. I just nodded and moved quickly in the direction she

at the floor without really seeing it. Zoey sat beside him, one comforting hand resting on her husband's tense shoulder. Mia paced near the wide window overlooking the

her? Tell me everything." Christian just looked at me for a few long seconds. ---- "Serious accident on the road to Montelira," he said finally. His voice was controlled, but the tension underneath was impossible to miss. "Apparently she tried to pass another vehicle and a truck came from the opposite direction. She swerved, but lost control of the car." My throat tightened. "But how is she now?" | asked urgently,