Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 564 Nicholas' POV The fire in the living room fireplace was almost out when I came downstairs to tend to it one last time before bed. Only a few embers still glowed faintly, casting dancing shadows on the walls. I grabbed the poker and stirred the ashes, making sure everything was safe before adding a couple more logs to keep a minimum amount of warmth through the night. The room was empty. Silent. That was how Sunday nights usually were, after most of the weekend guests had already left. During the week, the inn was practically empty.

Just the occasional lone traveler, off-season tourists who came precisely because no one else did and the prices were better. That was how we survived. Dragging ourselves from one weekend to the next. Stretching every euro. Making the money last as long as possible to keep the property running and still pay down the debts that never seemed to shrink, no matter how hard we worked, how much we saved, how many sacrifices we made. It wasn't easy. It never had been. But in the last few years, it had gotten worse. Competition from larger, more modern wineries with massive marketing budgets.

The rising costs of maintaining an old building. Taxes that seemed to go up every year. Everything piling up into a mountain that got harder and harder to climb. Still, I had to do it all, every day. Fix what broke. Clean what got dirty. Cook when needed. Drive the tour bus when there were enough guests to justify it. And hope, somehow, for a miracle. For a little breathing room. For a stretch of time where bankruptcy wasn't constantly chasing us. Because the alternative was selling everything. And I would never forgive myself if it came to that. I knew how much this place meant to my mother.

This property wasn't just a house or a business to her. It was where she'd built a life with my father. Where she'd raised me. Where every stone, every tree, every corner held decades of love and hard work. Losing it would be like tearing out a piece of her soul. And, if I was honest, it mattered to me too. I'd grown up running through these vineyards. Learned how to make wine with my father in the old cellars. Learned every inch of this land. It was a legacy. A legacy I wanted to pass on to Bella someday.

could secure her future. Something she could choose to keep or walk away from, but that would have real value either way. That was when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned and saw Gwen standing in the doorway of the living room. 1/4 "Need

corrected with a small smile. "And besides, I don't mind helping." We worked in silence for a few minutes, arranging the logs, organizing the tools. It was a comfortable silence. Not forced. As if we'd done this together a hundred times before. "Dinner was delicious," Gwen said eventually. "Your mother

setting the last log in place. That was when I noticed Gwen shift, reaching into her pocket. When I looked up, she was holding a small velvet box I recognized immediately. "I wanted to give this back to you," she said,

a complete stranger." I took the box, feeling its familiar weight in the palm of my hand. "It's beautiful," Gwen went on softly. "And it's beautiful that she's kept it all these years. It must mean so much to her." "It does," I agreed, opening the

slipping it into my pocket. "But at the end of the day, things with a price tag matter too. Especially when you have bills to pay and a small child to raise." I saw Gwen study me for a long moment, her blue eyes reflecting the

said lightly. "You know how it is. Some months are better than others. But there are days when it gets discouraging. Days when you wonder if it's worth fighting so hard." 2/4 Gwen nodded, taking that in. "Have you ever thought about selling?" she

father is buried. Where every important memory of her life happened. Selling it would feel like betraying him. Betraying her. Betraying everything they built together." I paused, then added, "Besides, I'm a mountain man, not a city man. I wouldn't survive the chaos, the polished suit-and-tie types, or