Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 515 Madeline's POV The address Christian gave me led to a modest neighborhood on the east side of Belmonte. Simple houses lined tree-shaded streets. The kind of place where people still knew each other by name, where kids played on the sidewalks until the sun went down, where neighbors chatted over low walls about soccer and the rising price of gas. It was a world completely different from mine. And even farther from Dominic's. I parked in front of number 247 and turned off the engine, but I didn't get out right away.

I stayed there, hands still on the steering wheel, staring at the house through the windshield. It was small. Two stories. Fresh cream-colored paint, already starting to peel at the corners. A front garden cared for with love, even if it was simple-rose bushes, a small herb bed, white pebbles outlining the paths. A pink-and-purple children's bike leaned against the porch, the front basket stuffed with crayons. A house. A home. Built with effort and love by a woman who had every reason to give up. But hadn't. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the folder on the passenger seat.

I'd been putting this off for a week. A full week since that night. Since everything ended. Marcus was home recovering, constantly complaining about being forced to rest but obeying the moment either Mia or I gave him the look. Aurora was visibly growing every day, her eyes more alert, her little sounds more varied. And I was trying to process everything that had happened. But there was a promise I still hadn't kept. A promise that weighed on me more heavily with every passing day. Vivian had made me promise.

And no matter how complicated everything about her was, no matter how tangled my feelings were about what she'd done, a promise was a promise. I grabbed the folder, got out of the car, and walked toward the door. Every step felt heavier than the last. What was I supposed to say? How did you even begin a conversation like this? Hi, I'm the woman who was there when your sister killed the man who raped you? I rang the doorbell before I could lose my nerve and run. I heard movement inside. Light but hurried footsteps. A child's voice saying something I couldn't quite make out.

was younger than I expected. Maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven at most. Dark brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail, a few unruly strands framing her face. Faded jeans and an oversized T-shirt splattered with paint-the kind of clothes worn

layers of armor, Cecilia's held a softness that disarmed me completely. A genuine kindness. And also sadness. Deep. Old. The kind that settles into your bones and never truly leaves-only learns how to live alongside the good moments. It was a sadness I recognized instantly. Because I carried it too. Because all of us who had been touched by Dominic carried it. "Cecilia?" I asked, my voice gentler

Cecilia interrupted, and something shifted dramatically in her expression. Her eyes widened. Her hand flew to her mouth. "You're Madeline. The one who was... the one who was there when-" Her voice broke. She couldn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to. "Yes," I said simply,

what he'd taken from us. I saw tears begin to form in Cecilia's eyes. "May I come in?" I asked gently. "There are some things I need to give you. Things Vivian asked me to bring. And... I think we need to talk." Cecilia hesitated. I could see the conflict on her face-the part of her that wanted to close the door and forget,

and carefully kept. A colorful rug on the

scribbles. A half-built block castle leaning precariously to one side. My stomach flipped. The shape of her face. The angle of her jaw. The exact

sweetheart," Cecilia said, and the tenderness in her voice when she spoke to her daughter made my eyes sting. "How about you go play in your room for a little bit while Mommy talks to this lady? I promise it won't take long." Sarah studied me with that