Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 367 Marcus' POV I watched Aphrodite the morning after our dinner of confessions and noticed something different in her posture. She seemed lighter, as if she'd finally set down an enormous weight after sharing her pain with me. And yet, there was a new fragility there too, like she'd replaced one burden with another. Maybe the fear of wing exposed herself too much. Of having trusted a stranger with her deepest secrets. She was on the deck, coffee in hand, staring out at the crystal-clear sea, but her shoulders were slightly hunched, as if the shadow of the night before still lingered.

At that moment, I decided this day needed to be about lightness. About pulling Aphrodite completely out of the dark orbit of her past and back into our private paradise. "How about a boat trip today?" I suggested, stepping up behind her and brushing a light kiss against her neck." We could find a deserted beach, swim a little, pretend we're the only two people in the world." "That sounds perfect," she replied, turning to face me with a smile that still carried traces of last night's vulnerability. I needed the distraction too, I admitted to myself.

Hearing her story and recognizing so much of my own experience in her words about last names swallowing identities had stirred things I preferred to keep buried. Sometimes it was easier to focus on taking care of her than to face my own family demons. An hour later, we were at the resort's private pier, greeted by a smiling staff member who guided us to an elegant boat fully equipped for a perfect day at sea. The weather was ideal with a cloudless blue sky, gentle breeze, and water so transparent we could see the sandy bottom meters below.

"So," Aphrodite said once we were cruising away from the resort, the wind tangling her hair and a genuinely carefree smile finally back on her face, "I bet you've never had a nine-to-five job in your life." I laughed, relieved to see our game of assumptions returning in its lighter, playful form. "I bet you were always the family rebel," I shot back. "Rebel?" she said, feigning outrage. "I was the perfect daughter until... well, until I wasn't." "And now?" "Now I'm a twenty-seven-year-old woman who ran away from her own wedding to go to the Maldives with a complete stranger," she laughed.

felt like floating in midair. Aphrodite grew more relaxed by the minute. She was laughing freely, teasing, being exactly the fascinating woman who'd made me agree to this madness in the first

say anything else. "It's Mr. Cronus, remember?" My blood went cold instantly. Every muscle in my body tensed, and for a split second I forgot how to breathe. The staff member went on arranging the

from what had just happened. I used every ounce of charm I had, every skill I'd learned over the years to guide conversations wherever I wanted

lingered between us like an invisible cloud. By late afternoon, when we returned to the bungalow, we settled into the loungers on the private deck with glasses of wine, watching

the chair, one leg tucked beneath her, eyes half-closed, half-open. That was when her phone vibrated on the small table between us. I caught the name at a glance. It was Dominic, followed by a red heart, flashing on the screen before she quickly turned the phone facedown. But it was already too late. The image lodged itself in my mind like a blade. Dominic. The ex-fiancé. The man who had betrayed her, used her, planned to discard her

other end refused to be ignored. Then again. And again. I didn't say anything as our agreement forbade it, but inside, a discomfort began to grow, slow and heavy, like an approaching storm. Why hadn't she blocked him yet? What still tied her to him? Fear of what he might do? An motional dependency she hadn't managed to break? Or was there something she still hadn't told me, some actical reason that forced her to keep that line of communication