Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 323 "What do you mean, disappeared?" Nate asked, his voice edged with growing irritation. A bitter, ironic laugh slipped out of me, echoing through the cold, sterile room at the precinct. The situation was so absurdly predictable it almost felt laughable. if it weren't so infuriating. "With money and influence," I replied, my voice dripping with a cynicism I barely recognized in myself. "I've seen this happen before.

And the culprit was a corrupt, criminal Kensington then, too." Richardson continued his explanation with the professional patience of someone who had handled cases like this more times than he cared to count. "System failure, according to the hotel," he said, unmistakable skepticism woven into every word. "Data corruption during the exact hours that matter.

The footage from before and after is perfectly intact, but the recordings from the time you were in the room and when James was arrested, simply no longer exist." "That can't be a coincidence," Nate said, his voice tight with controlled fury I could feel radiating from his rigid posture. "Obviously not," Richardson agreed without hesitation. "But proving intentional sabotage and more importantly, proving who was responsible for it, is nearly impossible.

Alexandra Kensington has enough financial resources and political connections to make evidence like that vanish without leaving a trace." I sank deeper into the uncomfortable chair, the crushing weight of injustice pressing down on my chest like a slab of concrete. James would be punished, yes, and that offered some comfort. But the person who had meticulously orchestrated everything, who had deliberately put me in that position of vulnerability, would walk away without facing any legal consequences at all. "So she just...

regret in his tone. "But that doesn't mean there aren't other forms of justice. Her professional reputation, her standing within the company, her social and family relationships... those things can be affected in ways that don't involve the

was right. Legal justice might be frustratingly limited in this case, but at least a

system that allowed people like Alexandra to manipulate and hurt others without facing consequences proportional to the damage they caused.

a small, cozy café with worn wooden tables and the comforting scent of freshly ground beans in the air. I ordered a double cappuccino, hoping the caffeine might cut through the fog of frustration settling over "How are you feeling?" Nate asked once our coffees arrived, studying my face with careful attention. "Frustrated,"

"If you want," he said hesitantly, as if testing my reaction, "we could go look at one of the houses now. Maybe a change of scenery would help clear your

soft pastel, creating a charming rainbow along the street. "This was one of my most recent investments," he explained as he searched for the keys. "I was planning to rent it out, but..." He let the sentence trail off, smiling in a way that hinted at new possibilities. The