Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 356 Madeline's POV The first thing I noticed when I settled into the first-class seat was how completely at ease Apollo looked, surrounded by all that luxury. While I was still trying to figure out how the seat controls worked, he had already ordered an expensive wine from the flight attendant. Not just any wine, but something specific like he knew it heart. "Champagne?" he offered when the attendant returned with a bottle I didn't even know existed.

"Please," I replied, watching how naturally he handled the glass, as if drinking Dom Pérignon at thirty thousand feet were part of his everyday routine. I had thought he was just some random biker who showed up at the right place at the right time. But the way he moved in this environment, like he belonged here, made me wonder if I'd completely underestimated who this man really was. "So..." I let slip, watching him chuckle genuinely at something he was reading in the airline magazine. "I'm guessing you're used to traveling like this." He looked up at me, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Didn't we agree on no personal questions?" he countered, his tone teasing rather than defensive. "It's not a question," I insisted, leaning slightly toward him. "It's an assumption. Am I right?" He studied me for a moment, as if carefully calculating his answer. Then he simply smiled enigmatically and took another sip of his wine. "Maybe," he said. It wasn't an answer. It was bait. "Maybe?" I repeated. "That's basically a confession." "Is it?" He turned fully toward me. "And what else are you assuming?" I took the challenge. If he wanted to play, we would play.

"I'm assuming you didn't work Monday through Friday, nine to five." "Interesting theory." "I'm assuming your passport was full of stamps." "Go on." "And I'm assuming you didn't live in a two-bedroom apartment in the suburbs." This time he laughed for real, and the sound was far more attractive than it had any right to be. "You're good at this," he admitted. "At what?" 1/4 "Coming up with theories without asking direct questions." "And you're good at not answering without completely killing the game," I shot back. "Touché." The flight continued like that.

steered the conversation, I was pretty sure that was exactly the reaction he wanted. When the plane finally landed at our destination, my heart was racing not because of the trip, but because of what was waiting for us. Seven days

comfortable Apollo seemed with the situation. While I gripped the seat during takeoff, he calmly took in the view through the window, like this was something he did every other week. "First time?" he asked, noticing my tension. "Is it that obvious?" "Your fingers are about two seconds away from piercing the leather seat." I forced myself to relax my hands, not realizing just how nervous I was.

long before I moved out to live with my cousin Olivia who was basically a sister. Since then, I'd gotten used to a simpler life. We were still well-off, sure, but nothing even close to this kind of extravagance. "And you?" I ask. "First time?" "Isn't that a personal

staff who treated us like VIPS. "I'll check us in," I told Apollo. He nodded and wandered off to admire the view while I headed to the reception desk.

with a warm smile. "Under what name is the reservation?" 2/4 "Sullivan," I replied. "For two people. But I have a special request..." I smiled conspiratorially. "We'd like to be called Mr. and Mrs. Cronus during our stay. It's a honeymoon joke." The receptionist smiled, clearly used to

I'll take you straight to the presidential bungalow." I saw

the staff member continued. "And we've prepared a special surprise to celebrate this unique moment. Apollo gave my waist a gentle squeeze and pulled me a little closer, replying that he couldn't wait to enjoy every moment with his "wife." The forced intimacy made