Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 252

Chapter 252

Nathaniel’s POV

I’d been sitting in my office for twenty minutes, staring at my phone like it might magically deliver the solution to the mess my life had become. Annie’s message had arrived hours after I told her about the suspension, and every word hit with the precision of a knife.

Annie: When I chose to trust. Because I think vulnerability is that: trusting someone to catch you… and realizing they choose not to stay when the fall starts. It works for love, friendship, even work. Because in the end, it all feels the same. The ‘funny’ part? They always say being vulnerable is brave. But no one warns you that sometimes courage comes with a broken heart or a suspension letter.

I read the message for the fifth time, feeling the weight of every line. She’d written it thinking she was opening up to some anonymous, understanding stranger-someone who could comfort her from a distance without fully grasping what she was going through. But I understood. I understood every reference, every layer of frustration.

The “suspension letter” wasn’t a metaphor for her. It was real. It was the document I’d had to hand her myself, watching the trust in her eyes collapse into disappointment.

And the part about “trusting someone to catch you” cut deeper than I expected. Because that was exactly where I’d failed her. When she needed me most, I hadn’t protected her. I hadn’t been the person who stayed when the fall began.

As Nathaniel, I was bound by corporate protocol and internal politics. As Wanderer, I was just a bodiless voice, powerless to give her the real comfort she needed. It was a cruel irony, being split between two identities and useless in both.

I started typing a response more times than I could count, deleting it every time. What could I say? That I understood perfectly because I was the one who’d caused part of that hurt? That I wanted to comfort her but couldn’t reveal I knew the exact details of her situation?

I was drowning in that frustration when I heard determined footsteps coming down the hallway. Not Margaret’s soft steps or Gwen’s quick ones. These were sharp, precise heels I knew far too well.

Alexandra walked into my office without knocking. It was her favorite way of reminding everyone she believed she was above basic courtesy. She carried a leather folder under her arm and wore that controlled smile she

saved for moments when she was about to twist a situation in her favor.

“Nathaniel,” she said, closing the door behind her as she approached my desk. “We need to talk.”

I shoved my phone away and tried to straighten up, forcing myself into some semblance of professionalism even as anger churned in my chest at the sight of her.

“About what?” I asked, curt.

“About the elephant in the room.” She placed the folder on my desk and sat down across from me without waiting for an invitation. “The situation with Annabelle isn’t just about the supposed leak.”

“It’s not supposed. The logs are clear.”

Alexandra laughed softly. It was a sound that made my hands clench.

“Oh, Nathaniel, do you really think this is about system logs?” She leaned forward, slipping into that

condescending tone that always made my skin crawl. “This is about you and her. About the rumors circulating. About what everyone knows but nobody says out loud.”

My jaw tightened.

“And what rumors would those be?”

“That the two of you are involved,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “That she got her position because she slept with the company’s COO. That you protect her in meetings and give her access to privileged information.”

Each word came out like a scalpel-precise, cutting, intentional.

“And you should know there are already board members talking about removing you as well,” she added, feigning concern. “To protect Kensington’s image, you understand. We can’t appear to be a company where personal relationships influence professional decisions.”

Something cold spread through my chest.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s an observation.” Alexandra smoothed a hand over her hair, every gesture calculated. “But you need to do something. Distance yourself from her publicly, maybe. Show there’s no favoritism involved.”

“Get out,” I said, pointing to the door.

Alexandra blinked, clearly not expecting that reaction.

“What?”

“Get out of my office. Now.”

“Nathaniel, you’re being irrational-”

“Out!!!” I roared, and through the glass wall I saw heads snap up across the floor.

Alexandra stood slowly, grabbing her folder with that icy composure she wielded like armor, but I caught the flash of real fury in her eyes.

“You’ll regret this,” she said as she stepped toward the door. “When the board decides you need to be investigated too… when your career goes up in flames because of an employee who isn’t even worth it… you’ll remember this conversation.”

“Out,” I repeated, low and threatening.

She walked out, heels striking the floor with unnecessary force, leaving the door wide open behind her like one last act of disrespect.

I collapsed back into my chair and dragged my hands over my face. The office was silent now, but I knew half the floor had witnessed my blowup. In minutes, the entire company would know the COO had thrown a board member out of his office, shouting.

But for the first time in days, I felt something close to relief. I’d finally said what needed to be said. Finally drawn a line Alexandra couldn’t cross.

I picked up my phone again, staring at Annie’s message that still sat unanswered. There were so many things I wanted to tell her… so many ways to let her know she wasn’t alone.

But first, I had to find a way to prove she was innocent.