Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 368 Madeline's POV The days that followed turned into a string of moments that felt lifted straight out of a Hollywood romance. Obscenely expensive wines I hadn't even known existed. Sex that left me breathless. Landscapes so unreal that sometimes I had to pinch myself just to be sure I wasn't dreaming. It my original plan had been to forget Dominic curled up on my couch with a bucket of ice cream and a marathon of dramatic movies, Apollo had been doing a far better job. My private gigolo, as he liked to joke, had proven devastatingly effective at his role.

We spent entire mornings tangled together in bed, wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets, exploring every inch of each other as if time didn't exist. Apollo touched me in a way that woke my entire body, as if every nerve ending had been designed solely to respond to his fingers, his mouth, the delicious weight of his body over mine.

Our afternoons were filled with things I'd never imagined myself doing: diving along coral reefs while tropical fish swirled around us like colorful confetti, side-by-side massages at a floating spa over the lagoon, dinners on deserted beaches lit only by candles and stars. And the nights... the nights were pure magic. Apollo had a gift for making me laugh until I couldn't breathe, for provoking me until I wanted to punch him and kiss him at the same time, for looking at me in a way that made my heart race like I was a teenager falling in love for the first time.

it was a casual snack, and I let myself live in a way I never had before. No worries. No responsibilities. No constant weight of being a Sullivan and everything that came with it. But time was passing. There was no completely ignoring that reality, no matter how hard I tried. Every morning I woke up in Apollo's arms, another day was crossed

quiet moments was this: when it came time to forget Apollo, who would help me do it? What private gigolo would I hire to help me forget the man who had made me forget everyone else?

because I'd tried to hug a stingray and nearly caused a marine diplomatic incident, we returned to the bungalow

be back in Verdania, and all of this would be nothing more than a memory. That was when my phone started vibrating insistently on the nightstand. I ignored it the first time, assuming it was just another attempt by Dominic to get in touch. But the phone kept zzing relentlessly, like someone sending a rapid string

an instinct I couldn't quite name. It was a photo. A photo of Apollo and me at the airport on the day we arrived. I was pulling my suitcase, he was walking beside me, and we both looked completely unaware that we were being photographed. I opened the second image, my hands starting to shake. Us at the resort restaurant, laughing,