Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 278 Nate rang the doorbell, and I swear my stomach did a full somersault. I stood there on the porch, taking in the house now clearly visible under the warm glow of the streetlamps-elegant, classic, with tasteful Christmas decorations framing the Georgian windows. Exactly the kind of home someone like Nate would've grown up in... someone who carried that effortless refinement everywhere he went. The door opened to reveal a woman of medium height with light brown hair pulled into a loose, understated bun.

She wore a gray sweater that somehow managed to look both casual and perfectly elegant. Her smile was small but genuinely warm-and instantly, I understood where Nate's green eyes came from. "Mum," Nate said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "This is Annie." Elizabeth looked at me for a few seconds with that instinctive, maternal kind of evaluation-not judgmental, just... attentive. "Annie," she repeated, as if trying out my name. "It's lovely to meet you." "The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Carter," I said, hoping I didn't sound as nervous as I felt.

"Elizabeth, please," she corrected gently, greeting me with two soft cheek kisses and a light touch on my arm. Come in, you must be freezing out there." We stepped into a foyer that managed to be impressive without feeling intimidating. A few paintings that were probably originals hung on the walls, and the house carried that unmistakable scent of well-kept old homes: polished wood, fresh flowers, and something faintly sweet... like a cake baking somewhere. 11 Elizabeth helped us with our coats while I stole discreet glances around.

It was exactly the kind of environment I had pictured for Nate's childhood-cultured, refined, but not cold or ostentatious. "Richard!" Elizabeth called. "They're here!" Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and soon a tall man appeared slightly taller than Nate, with neatly cut gray hair and a calm, dignified presence that instantly put me at ease. "Annie," he said, extending a warm hand and an equally warm smile. "Richard Carter. It's wonderful to have you here." His handshake was firm and sincere, the kind that grounded you.

"Consider this your home while you're with us," he added-and I could tell he meant it. "Thank you, Mr. Carter," I said, feeling the tension in my shoulders actually start to loosen. "Richard," he corrected with an easy smile. "We keep things informal here." Elizabeth guided us into a cozy living room where a fireplace crackled gently. Bookshelves lined the walls, sheet music was scattered across the piano, and an assortment of plants made the room feel alive in that elegant, lovingly curated way. "Please, sit," Elizabeth said, motioning to a brown leather sofa. "Can I get you tea? Coffee?

eyes curious but kind, "how did you two meet? Nate was rather vague with the details." Nate and I exchanged a quick look.

in common." "Nate told us you moved from Verdania to work there," Elizabeth said, returning with a tray of tea cups. "That must've been quite a change." "It was," I admitted, taking the delicate porcelain cup she offered. "But London has been... eye-opening.

footsteps coming down the staircase. Slow, deliberate footsteps, the kind meant to announce themselves before the person even appears. "Ah," Elizabeth said, glancing toward the hall. "Tori has finally decided to join us.' 11 The woman who stepped into the doorway caught me completely off guard. Tori Carter was stunning-the kind of stunning that looked

she'd stepped out of a magazine spread. "Hi," she said, her gaze flicking over me before settling on Nate. Everything about her demeanor felt calculated, as if every gesture had been chosen for maximum effect. "Tori," Nate said, standing to greet his sister. "This

"Well, I hope the disappointment wasn't too dramatic," I replied lightly, keeping

The tone was casual, but the intent behind it was razor-sharp. She was assessing my background, my "pedigree, "like she was placing me on some invisible social chart. "My mom used to say my dad makes the best

I don't eat meat. It's fattening. And it smells." She took another sip of tea with a tiny, knowing smile. "Does your family raise cattle, then?" I felt my face heat. The way she said cattle made it obvious-she was

by a cheerful shout: "Where's my brother I haven't seen in months?" Oliver entered the room with a beer bottle in hand, wearing worn-in jeans and a wool

the kind of easy friendliness that instantly softened the whole room. "About time you brought someone home for Christmas," Oliver said as he walked straight toward me, arms open. He kissed my cheek like we'd known each other for years. "Beer? Wine? Tea? Tonic water? You name it," he offered, gesturing toward the kitchen. "You don't have to stick to Mum's tea protocol." I laughed for the first time since stepping into the house. "Beer sounds perfect," I said, feeling a