Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 700

Chapter 700

Gwen's POV

The drive to Montelira had never felt longer. I had already spoken to the school, to Cross, to the building staff, to everyone I could reach. Now it was a different phase. Leave the invisible office in my head and step into the real world. Paula was waiting at the entrance to town, standing beside her car like she'd run out without even finishing putting her coat on. The second I parked, she opened my door before I turned off the engine.

"Gwen, my God..." she said, her voice raw with real urgency. I wanted to cry. I didn't. "Did you see anything?" I asked.

She shook her head "I went to the gelato shop, the square, the pizza place, the road by the estate... I asked half the town. Nothing." I inhaled through my nose, gripping the steering wheel a second longer than necessary. "I brought a still image," I said. I showed her my phone. The frozen frame from the school camera. The adult figure in profile, out of focus. Not some obvious villain. Just... a man. Baseball cap. Shadow of a beard Jacket. Paula narrowed her eyes, studying it. "You can't recognize him," she said finally, frustrated.

complaining about being late. Normal life, offensively intact. Paula spoke to someone, and within minutes we were standing in front of the gate security guard. He stared at the image longer than I liked. "I don't know..." he started. I kept my face neutral "Look again," I said. He did. Scratched the back of his neck. Then, with the cautious tone of someone who doesn't want responsibility, he said: "It looks like... the

gelato to the kids. Not part of the school, but... he's always around." I didn't waste time on moral commentary. "Where do I find him?" I asked The guard pointed down the side street, sketching the direction in the air. The street was quieter, more shaded, with that small-town silence where any movement becomes a headline. The

said. "But the camera..." "Did you speak to Bella this morning?" I cut in. His expression shifted.

he said. "Asked for two gelatos." The number hit like a bell. "Two?" Paula repeated. "Two," he confirmed. "I asked her why two, and she said..." He looked down, replaying it in his mind. "One is for my dad." I closed my eyes for half a second. "And what did you do?" I asked,

to argue that this was not something that "happens all the time," but she swallowed it. I didn't waste energy arguing. "Did you see which way she went

man lifted his hands helplessly, "I swear I don't know anything else..." I looked in the direction he'd pointed and calculated distance the way I calculate risk. "Let's go," I told Paula. We retraced, again, the places Bella might choose by instinct. The square. The sunny bench. The

from crossing the street without looking. "The police?" I asked "They opened a report," he said, voice hoarse. "But they... they keep following the standard route. Like she might just be at a friend's house or something." By late afternoon,

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