Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

The three words hung in the night air, simple and devastating. I froze in Christian's arms, my body suddenly still, as if any movement might break the fragile spell of that suspended moment. He noticed my hesitation, his body tensing against mine. I felt his breath catch, waiting for an answer my throat refused to form. The words were there, pressing against my chest, begging to be set free. I loved him. Of course I did. How could I not? And yet, an inexplicable fear kept me silent-as if speaking that truth aloud would somehow make it more real, more dangerous.

Instead of words, I offered action. I lifted my face and caught his lips in a kiss, trying to pour into it everything I couldn't say. My hands framed his face, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw as if trying to memorize every contour. Christian kissed me back immediately, his arms tightening around me, but I felt the subtle shift-a silent question, an almost imperceptible hesitation. When we finally pulled apart, his eyes searched mine, looking for the words I couldn't speak. "I think we should go back," I murmured, nervously adjusting my dress.

"People will notice we're gone.' Something flickered across his face-a shadow of disappointment, maybe-quickly masked by the composed expression he'd perfected over years as an executive. "Of course." He offered his arm, ever the gentleman, even after what we'd just shared on the overlook. "Shall we?" The walk back to the mansion was wrapped in heavy silence, both of us processing what had just happened- not only the physical closeness, but his vulnerable confession and my lack of response. The air between us felt charged, tense, like the sky before a storm.

As we reached the glow of the mansion lights, Christian paused briefly, fixing a strand of hair that had escaped from behind my ear with such care it made my chest tighten. "You look beautiful." His voice was soft, but his eyes still held that unanswered question. "No one would ever guess we just..." "Had twenty well-spent minutes on the overlook?" I finished for him, trying to ease the tension with a touch of humor. He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

investors, while I slipped toward the bar, needing something to steady my nerves. I grabbed a glass of water-alcohol being the last thing my already sensitive stomach needed-and scanned the crowd for Annie. I found her near one of the balconies, watching Marcus chatting animatedly with some

way that unspoken "I love you too" hung over me. "There you are," Annie said with a grin, turning toward me. Her eyes swept over my face, and her smile morphed into something sly. "Wow. Someone looks... refreshed." "Shhh!" I hissed, glancing around to make sure no

minutes, huh?" I couldn't help a small smile, despite the nervous energy buzzing under my skin. "Something like that." Annie held out her fist toward me in that same childish gesture of sisterly camaraderie that never failed to make me laugh. I bumped my knuckles lightly against hers, the simple act enough to push away, for a moment, the weight of what had happened on the overlook. "Knew you two just needed a little push," she said,

smiling

refuge in a small reading room off the main hall, closing the door quietly behind me. The hush of the room was a relief after the constant hum of the party outside. Only then, away from prying eyes, did the tears finally come. They started silently, slipping down my cheeks before I could stop them, and soon turned into quiet sobs that I tried to smother with my hand. I didn't even understand at first