Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 571 Nicholas' POV Bella finally fell asleep after three stories, two glasses of water, and countless questions about when Gwen was coming back. I went downstairs slowly, the weight of the entire day settling heavily on my shoulders. The inn was quiet now, the guests already tucked away in their rooms. Only a few dim lights remained on in the hallway and at the front desk. I headed straight for the kitchen, craving something warm to chase away the cold that had seeped into my bones and had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

Paula was there, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea cradled in her hands. She looked up when I came in, studying me in that way only someone who's known you your entire life can. "Can't sleep either?" she asked. "Bella was restless," I said as I walked to the stove, where the kettle still held hot water. I grabbed a mug, dropped in a chamomile tea bag, and poured the steaming water over it. "She kept asking about Gwen all night." "And you?" Paula asked once I sat down across from her. "Are you thinking about Gwen too?" I didn't answer.

I just took a sip of tea that was still too hot and burned my tongue. Paula sighed. "You look worried. And it's not just about Bella or Gwen, is it?" I turned the mug slowly between my hands, watching the steam rise in lazy spirals. "A creditor came by," I admitted at last. "From the bank. Castoria Capital." I saw Paula stiffen in her chair. "And?" "Forty-two thousand dollars," I said, the words landing like stones. "We're three payments behind. They gave us sixty days to catch up or present a viable repayment plan. If we don't..." I didn't need to finish. Paula knew exactly what that meant.

I've at least tried to fix it." Paula nodded, her fingers tightening around her cup. 1/3 "What are you going to do?" I shook my head, as if the motion might shake some miraculous solution loose

sharper than I meant it to. "I'm not selling." Silence settled between us for a long moment. Just the sound of the wind outside and the ticking of the clock on the wall. "I'll try

she thought my idea was terrible. "And what are you going to put up as collateral this time?" she asked. "I don't know," I admitted, running a hand

reached out and rested a gentle hand on my arm. "Of course not, Nick," she said calmly, her tone a sharp contrast to my agitation. "What I want to hear is that a miracle happened and we're saved. That someone showed up with a magical solution and everything turned out fine." She paused, then withdrew her hand. "But that's not going to happen," she went on, as realistic as ever. "Miracles don't exist. And at the same time, Nick, there's no point in trying to do the same things that haven't worked before. Another