Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 623 Nicholas' POV | left the house before the sun had fully risen. Bella was still asleep, so | slipped into her room on tiptoe, kissed her forehead, and whispered that I'd be back Sunday night. In the kitchen, Martina had already made fresh coffee and was wrapping something in parchment paper. "Snack for the road," she announced, handing me a little bundle tied carefully with string "Mom, it's only a few hours' drive," | said, half laughing. "So what?" she shot back with that classic maternal stubbornness.

"You'll want something to eat on the way." | took the package, feeling the comforting weight of hamemade bread and, most likely, cheese. That's when I noticed the note taped to the side, clearly written in Bella's careful, childish handwriting: 'Have a good trip, Daddy! Eat everything! Grandma helped me make it just for you. | love you so much! Come back soon! - Bella.' Something tightened in my chest. ---- It was just a short drive. | didn't even need a snack. But the love behind that small gesture hit me hard. "Thank you," | said to my mother, pulling her into a quick hug.

* Take good care of her." "| always do," she assured me, gently pushing me toward the door. "Now go. And behave yourself in Florentia." | got into the car, placed the little food bundle on the passenger seat, started the engine. And left. The first part of the drive was peaceful. Mountain roads | could navigate with my eyes closed. Gentle curves. Beautiful scenery. The sun rising over sleeping vineyards. But the farther | got from the mountains, the closer | came to Florentia, the more everything changed. The roads widened. Traffic thickened.

Cars sped up, honked, cut each other off without signaling. By the time | crossed into the city limits, it was chaos. Tourists stopping in the middle of the street to take pictures. Literally in the middle of the street. A group of them almost ---- caused an accident by stepping backward without looking just to photograph a medieval facade. Horns blared everywhere. Motorcycles zoomed past dangerously close. Tour buses blocked entire lanes. | took a deep breath, trying to let it go. The noise. The chaos. The complete lack of consideration.

was what she loved. | couldn't be selfish enough to assume she'd be the one to change her entire life and move to Montepulciano just because... | preferred it that way. | knew we'd have to compromise. Adapt. Make it work. And | was completely open to that

red light and took the chance to double-check the ---- address Gwen had sent me. Montclair Row was one of the most expensive streets in Florentia, as far as | knew. Did that... make sense? Was that really her address, or had she decided to meet somewhere else and forgotten to tell me? That's when | noticed the notification on my phone. It was a message from Renee. My stomach tightened instantly. We hadn't spoken since that awful

Not again. So | decided to answer and shut it down fast. | typed back: [If this is about seeing Bella, forget it. After what you pulled, we'll settle that in court.) The reply came almost immediately. [It's not about Bella. It's about your little girlfriend. You have no idea who Gwen really is.] ---- | frowned at the screen. What? What was she talking about? Another message popped up right after. [And trust me. You're going to fall over when you find

in my relationship with ridiculous lies? It was obvious what she was doing. Planting doubts. Manipulating. Trying to destroy the only good thing that had happened in my life in years. It wasn't going to work. | exhaled slowly, tossed the phone into the cup holder, and drove on toward the address. By the time | reached Montclair Row, my stomach was in

seen in magazines. Perfectly polished windows. People walking slowly, not because they had nowhere to be, but because they knew their time was worth more than my entire month's income. And right in the middle of it all stood an ancient palazzo with a flawless facade. | stopped the car in the street and just stared. It was a historic building.