Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 122 Christian's POV I sat in the car and started the engine, but I couldn't bring myself to drive off right away. My hands were shaking on the steering wheel, my mind still reeling from what had just happened upstairs. Zoey's face-devastated, tear- streaked, looking at me like I was a stranger-was burned into my memory. Eventually, I managed to pull away from the curb, driving aimlessly through the streets of Solara. I didn't have a destination.

I just needed distance-from that apartment, from those bottles of wine, from the damn card whose words had shattered what was supposed to be a perfect night. The traffic was light for a Friday evening, and before I realized it, I was heading toward the Rosemont Hotel, the same place I always stayed when I was in Solara. It was automatic-my default move whenever things got complicated. I'd retreat. Shut down. But as the minutes passed, something started to gnaw at me from the inside. It wasn't just anger or confusion anymore. It was something heavier. Something sharper. Guilt.

At a red light, I closed my eyes and let the scene replay in my head. Zoey saying she didn't understand the card. Zoey explaining that Edward had sent the wines. Zoey begging me not to leave. And me-comparing her to Francesca. Damn it. The light turned green, and I drove on, but my thoughts were spiraling in a different direction now. I started dissecting everything-every reaction, every word I'd thrown at her. Zoey had never given me a single reason to doubt her. Not once.

In all the months we'd been together, she'd been open with me about everything-sometimes too open, even when it hurt her. When we found out Joseph knew about the contract, she told me immediately. When she had problems with Sunvale, she was upfront about them. Zoey wasn't someone who hid things; she was the kind of person who laid her heart bare, even when it made her vulnerable. So why the hell had I treated her like a criminal? The answer hit hard and ugly. Francesca. Years of living with someone who lied to my face every single day.

least expect it. But Zoey wasn't Francesca. Zoey couldn't be Francesca. I stopped at another light, gripping the wheel as the weight of what I'd done finally sank in. I'd accused the woman I loved of betraying me-based on what, exactly? A card from Edward

poison my judgment. I shouldn't have let old ghosts dictate how I treated the woman who had stood by me, who Joseph adored like a real granddaughter, who had become home to me. 1/3 Chapter 122 +30 Bonus The woman I was hopelessly in love with. God, I loved her. And love wasn't about suspicion. It was about trust. About giving the person you chose

I realized I was halfway between her apartment and the hotel. I could keep driving. Go to the hotel, pour

She deserved to see my face, to hear my voice crack when I told her I was sorry, to know-really know-that I regretted every word I'd said. She deserved me standing in front of her, not hiding behind a screen. The decision came before I even realized I'd made it. At the next intersection, I turned the wheel hard and took the first U-turn, heading back toward her apartment. My heart was pounding fast, a wild mix of fear, guilt, and determination flooding my chest. I was going back. I'd knock on

doubting her. I'd tell her about Francesca, about the ghosts that still haunted me, about how terrified I was of losing someone I loved again. I'd tell her that I loved her-more than I ever thought I could love anyone. The light ahead turned green, and I pressed the accelerator, focused only on getting to her. The streets were busier