Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 550 Nicholas' POV Gwen stood there for a long moment, completely still, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of snow reflecting through the windows. I could hear her breathing, slightly uneven, as she processed what I'd just asked. "Yes," she said finally, her voice low and uncertain. "That name is... familiar to me." Familiar. Not recognizable. Not remembered. Familiar, like something she knew without knowing how. "He said he's your brother," I added, watching her reaction even in the darkness. Gwen thought again. I saw her head move, nodding slowly, deliberately.

"It sounds right," she said, and there was almost surprise in her voice. "Like... like it's true." "Do you remember him?" I asked gently. "No," she answered quickly. "It's not exactly remembering. It's more like... knowing. You know? Like the information is there, but I can't quite see it." I nodded, even though I knew she probably couldn't see me clearly in the dark. Then something shifted. She turned fully toward me, and her voice took on a different tone. Questioning. Almost accusing. "You don't know?" she asked. "You don't know if I have a brother named Christian?" I should know.

If we were really engaged, if we were really planning to get married, I should know everything about her family. How many siblings she had. Their names. Their ages. What they did. What their relationships were like. Or at the very least, I should already have some excuse prepared. Some more elaborate lie to explain why her supposed fiancé knew absolutely nothing about her life. But I didn't. Because I was tired of lying. Because every new lie felt heavier than the last. "I do," I said finally, forcing confidence into my voice. "Of course I do. You have a brother named Christian.

We just haven't met in person yet." 11 Gwen seemed to accept that, her posture relaxing slightly. 1/4 "But we need to пelp your memory come back, Tight: TWCTIL IT, Siziny search for those things inside yourself. To try to remember on your own." It made sense. It sounded reasonable. And it was partly true, based on what Dr. Marshall had told us. ༄་་་་་་ "Either way, don't worry," I added, trying to sound reassuring. "As soon as the power comes back, we'll call your brother and explain everything." "No!" The word came out fast. Loud. Sharp with panic.

repeated, taking a step toward her. "What do you mean, failed?" I saw her freeze, her eyes widening slightly even in the darkness. Like she didn't know where those words had come from either. "That I..." she started, then stopped. And then I saw it again. That thing I'd noticed a few times now. I could almost see

voice steadier now, more convinced. "I'm the younger sibling, I think. He's overprotective. I need... I need to prove that I can handle things on my own, without him rushing in to save me every time." I nodded, even though I knew that probably wasn't the whole truth. That there was something more behind

already deep, nearly up to my knees in some spots,

light, finishing the guests' dinner. I silently thanked every god that we had a wood-burning stove. "Can you finish?" I asked, watching the pots simmer. "We can," Martina replied, as efficient as always. "It's

sure everyone was seated and had hot food. Then I went to take care of Bella. She was scared of the darkness, so I turned it into an adventure. We ate by candlelight like explorers in a cave. She loved it. After that, I helped her brush her teeth, using my phone flashlight for light, and tucked her into bed with extra blankets.