Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 570 Gwen's POV Screw it. It was literally the only coherent thought I managed to form as I got off the bed and went straight to the closet. Screw the time. Screw common sense. Screw waiting until tomorrow or thinking it through or doing any of the rational things a COO of a multinational company was supposed to do. I was going to Montelira. Now. Tonight. Or technically tomorrow, since it was almost midnight, but that wasn't the point. The point was that I was going. I grabbed a small suitcase and started tossing things inside. Clothes. Any clothes.

The first pair of jeans I saw, three random tops, enough underwear for a few days. Toiletries went straight from the bathroom drawer into my makeup bag without ceremony. I zipped the suitcase shut with determination, pulled on the first comfortable outfit I could find, leggings and a sweatshirt because driving through the night demanded comfort, threw a coat over it, and went looking for my car keys. They weren't where I always left them. I frowned and checked the hook by the door where my keys always, always hung. Nothing.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered to the universe as I started searching the apartment. Coffee table. No. Kitchen counter. No. Nightstand. No. My purse. No, because I'd switched bags and- I found the keys inside the old purse still abandoned on the couch. "Finally," I said out loud, grabbing them with a surge of victory. I went down to the building's garage, tossed the suitcase onto the back seat, got into the car, and started the engine. The GPS estimated an hour and a half to Montelira, considering it was late and there wouldn't be any traffic.

I pulled out of the garage with renewed determination. That determination lasted exactly fifteen minutes, until I ran into a massive sign that read: ROADWORK. DETOUR AHEAD. "No," I said to the sign, as if sheer willpower could make it disappear. "No, no, no." The sign remained stubbornly real, along with the orange cones blocking the road and the bored guard 1/4 waving me toward the detour. I followed the detour signs, which led me through side streets that were definitely not the fastest route.

mocked in the robotic GPS voice. "There is no left here, you digital idiot." Eventually, I managed to get back onto a main road and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. It was fine. Just a minor setback. That was when it started to rain. Not a light, romantic drizzle. No. A full-blown downpour that turned

yelled at the sky, slowing down because I could barely see the road. Then the wind picked up, shaking the car in ways that were not even remotely comforting. I was so focused on keeping the car steady, on trying to see through the curtain of water, that I almost didn't hear it. Thump thump thump thump. A strange, rhythmic sound coming from somewhere in the car. "No," I whispered, recognizing it immediately. "Please, no." The car started pulling to the left. The steering wheel grew heavy in my hands. A flat tire. Of course

through the storm. I turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, staring

sideways, every drop feeling like a tiny ice needle. 2/4 I went to the trunk, wrestled it open against the wind, and

the jack. The car began to lift.