Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 487 Francesca's POV The weight of the electronic ankle monitor had become part of my daily routine-a constant presence, a reminder of my choices and their consequences. I was sitting on the back veranda of the Montgomery estate, watching the vineyards stretch across the rolling hills, when I heard the sound of a car approaching along the main drive. I checked my watch. It was 3 p.m., exactly as we'd agreed. I slipped inside through the back door and quietly went upstairs to my bedroom, where I had a perfect view of the front entrance.

If Dominic was anything, it was punctual when it came to his meticulously calculated plans. Today's story would be the same as always. It was a "business meeting" with my parents to discuss joint management of the Montgomery winery. Officially, at least. In reality, those regular visits served far more interesting purposes. my electronic Dominic was meticulous in his illegal operations, and bribing the officer responsible for monitoring had been one of his first moves.

The man who was a middle-aged public employee with overdue bills and kids in private college hadn't put up much resistance when Dominic deposited the equivalent of three years' salary into an offshore account. Now, my regular "business visits" simply never appeared in the reports sent to the judge. Was it risky? Yes. But Dominic wasn't the kind of man who left loose ends. He was certain the officer would never betray him-after all, if the scheme were uncovered, the man would be the one going to prison for corruption and facilitating crimes. It was mutual security, built on fear and greed.

Dominic arrived minutes later, closing the door behind him with a soft but decisive click. There was something predatory in the way he moved through my room, briefly inspecting the books on my shelf, the view from the window, before finally turning his attention to me. "I brought something to celebrate," he said, pulling a bottle of red wine from inside his jacket. There was no label, of course. "Special production. I thought you'd appreciate the irony." I took the bottle, immediately recognizing the vintage by its color and viscosity. It was Kensington. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

"A dangerous celebration, don't you think?" I asked, pouring two glasses I kept in my room specifically for occasions like this. "This one's from the clean batches," he replied. "Wouldn't be much fun to celebrate our victory if we poisoned ourselves too, would it?" I laughed at the dark logic. We clinked glasses, the sound echoing softly through the room. "To the fall of the Kensingtons," I said, taking a generous sip. "To their inevitable collapse," Dominic agreed, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "Christian Kensington retreating. Pulling all products from the global market.

satisfying to watch." 1/4 I moved toward the window, gazing out at the vineyards. "I can almost see his face," I murmured, genuinely savoring the thought. "All that arrogance, finally broken. Christian always thought he was untouchable. Superior. Watching him be forced to

pull between us. I turned in his arms, our closeness leaving very little space between our bodies. "Careful, Dominic," I

girl." There was something chilling in the way he said it, as if he were discussing the usefulness of a tool, not a woman he supposedly loved. "And after that?" I asked, genuinely curious how far his plans went. Dominic took another sip of wine before answering, his eyes locked on mine with unsettling intensity. "A tragic story, don't you think?" he said far too calmly. "With the entire Sullivan family dead, the girl becomes the sole heir. And I... well,

beautiful story," I agreed, stepping back slightly so I could study him. "If she's really your daughter." Dominic smiled, and there was absolute confidence in that smile. "She will be. There's nothing a purchased DNA test can't fix." The casual way he said it-as if falsifying paternity tests were just another item on a to-do list-was both shocking and disturbingly impressive. "And

expression turned even colder, if that was possible. "Dead men don't complain." This time, I laughed for real, shaking my head with a mix of disbelief and twisted admiration. "So that's your solution to everything? A trail of bodies?" 2/4 Dominic stepped closer again, his hand rising to cup my face with a grip that bordered on possessive. "I don't like anyone getting in my way," he said

something genuinely amused in his expression. "What suspicions? I won't

clear to me about Dominic Blackwood. Everyone around him was just a chess piece. Useful while they served a purpose. Disposable when they didn't. And that included me. I stepped closer