Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 223

Chapter 223

I got home at six thirty after a day that felt like it would never end. Even though I’d managed to redeem myself in the break room earlier, I was still emotionally drained. Between the leftover humiliation from the party, the weird sense of relief after swapping bad date stories, and that message I couldn’t stop thinking about, my brain was running on fumes.

I kicked off my shoes the second I walked into the apartment, tossed my bag on the couch, and realized I had absolutely nothing for dinner. The fridge held a single expired yogurt and some leftovers I couldn’t remember ordering.

“Pizza it is,” I muttered to the empty apartment, grabbing my phone to order from my favorite place.

While I waited, I opened a bottle of wine I had “borrowed” from the office. Perks of working at Kensington. Then I collapsed onto the couch. The quiet in the apartment suddenly felt too loud, too lonely. Moments like this made London feel farther from Verdania than any map ever could. No familiar voices. No comforting chaos of my parents’ house.

Without overthinking it, I grabbed my phone and sent a message to Zoey, [I miss our pajama nights. Want to do a video call and watch a movie ‘together’? Like old times?]

Her reply came faster than expected, [I love the idea, but Matt is with the grandparents tonight, and what Christian and I planned does not involve pajamas or anything suitable for a video call.]

I laughed out loud in the empty room.

[Gross, but jealous. Now I have to erase that mental image.]

[You asked! But really, how about tomorrow? We can marathon something cheesy and you can tell me all about your London love life.]

[My love life is an epic disaster. Better talk about something else.]

[Which is exactly why I need to hear everything. Love you, baby sis!]

I set the aside with a smile, but the silence crept back in. The pizza arrived twenty minutes later, a simple that paired perfectly with the wine. I settled onto the couch and put on The Third Man on Netflix. It ng, considering my recent obsession with mysterious men.

But as the movie played, my mind kept drifting back to that message. There was something about the way it was written. A certain elegance. A strange familiarity I couldn’t place. Who talked about London getting “brighter” with the right company in such a poetic tone?

By nine o’clock, I couldn’t resist anymore. I paused the movie, grabbed my phone, and opened the dating app. The message was still there, staring back at me.

[I love that you want to ‘explore the city together.’ I have a theory London gets brighter with the right company. Can you confirm it?]

I tapped his profile for the first time, ready to investigate.

What I found only pulled me in deeper.

The photos were all artfully composed but deliberately vague. A silhouette against the Thames’ sunset. A shadow walking across Tower Bridge. A shot taken from behind in Regent’s Park, showing broad shoulders under a sleek coat but no visible face. Another image showed only well-kept masculine hands holding an old book, a cup of coffee blurred in the background.

It was frustrating and intriguing at the same time. Normally, I’d run from a profile like that. Men who hid their faces usually had something to hide. They were married, lying about their looks, or had some other shady reason to stay anonymous.

But these photos didn’t feel dishonest. They felt… intentional. Artistic. Like he wanted to show a lifestyle and a personality without giving away a face. And the body I could glimpse in the shots was definitely appealing. He was tall, athletic, and well-dressed. There was something in the composition of the images that hinted at intelligence, maybe even sophistication.

The bio was just as cryptic. [Londoner who believes in genuine conversations, unexpected discoveries, and the magic of unplanned moments.]

Nothing about a job. No exact age. None of the usual details everyone else included. It was like he wanted to be known through conversation, not bullet points.

I should delete the chat and block the profile. Every self-preservation instinct I’d built over the years was screaming at me to run the other way.

But that damn message…

There was something about it that hit me in a way I couldn’t explain. The way he used the word “brighter.” The smoothness of the line. The sense that he’d actually understood something about me from the few words on my profile.

Before I could psych myself out, I typed a reply. [Your theory about a sunnier London sounds promising, but exploring the city with someone as mysterious as you makes me feel like I’m in a Hitchcock film. Should I worry about ending up like the woman in Rear Window?]

I hit send before I could change my mind.

I was typing and deleting possible answers for what felt like the hundredth time when my phone rang. Christian.

“Hey, you workaholic,” he said the moment I picked up. “Don’t tell me you’re working on a Sunday night.”

“Maybe,” I admitted, setting the phone on speaker and sinking deeper into the sofa. “And you? How are you even finding the time to call? I thought new parents didn’t have social lives.”

“Zoey just put Matt down and managed a few minutes of peace. I used the window to call my friend who clearly has zero social life.”

“Thanks for the moral support.”

“Always. Seriously though, how are things? The office running smoothly?”

“Everything’s under control. The Franconian team signed the expansion contract, the quarterly numbers are above target, and the new organic line is performing better than expected.”

“Great. And Annie? Is she doing well over there? Zoey keeps asking how her sister is settling in.”

I choked a little, hoping I didn’t sound too interested.

“Annie is… doing very well. Really well, actually. She has a natural instinct for market development.”

“Good to hear. Anyway, I’m calling because the date for Kensington’s annual meeting is coming up. End of March. Alexandra offered to organize everything, since she knows all the best places in London.”

“Of course she did,” I muttered.

“She’s efficient, you have to admit. And Zoey and I will be there in a few weeks. Matt’s going to see London for the first time.”