Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 371

Chapter 371

Madeline’s POV

Our trip back to Verdania had lasted more than 30 hours-counting the international flight, the endless ayovers, and the airport waits that felt like they stretched on forever. And through all of it, we were wrapped in a suffocating silence.

It wasn’t the comfortable silence we’d learned to share during our week in paradise. This one was heavy, awkward, loaded with everything that hadn’t been said and everything that couldn’t be said. We exchanged only short, polite phrases: if the other party wanted some water, if they were comfortable, and thank you. Nothing

more.

I could feel the tension radiating off him with every passing minute, like he was constantly on the verge of breaking that wall of silence and trying to convince me again. And I stayed rigid, staring out the airplane window or pretending to sleep, because I knew that if I looked straight at him, my resolve might completely fall apart.

The bubble of paradise we’d built in the Maldives had truly burst. Now we were just two strangers sharing airplane seats, polite but distant, carrying the weight of an intimacy that could no longer exist.

When we finally landed in Verdania, the heaviness didn’t lift. We walked side by side through the airport corridors, our rolling suitcases making the only sound between us, along with the constant murmur of other passengers.

It was when we were almost at the exit of the arrivals area that Apollo finally broke the silence.

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice low but urgent. “You don’t have to go back to that life. You don’t have to marry him. You don’t have to face those dangers.”

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I stopped walking and looked at him, a sharp pain cutting through my chest when I saw the genuine worry in his

eyes.

“I don’t need you telling me what I should or shouldn’t do,” I replied with calculated coldness, knowing every word was like a knife, but also knowing it was necessary.

I had to be cruel on purpose. I had to push him away without leaving cracks, without giving hope, without creating any chance that he might follow me or get even more tangled in the mess that was my life.

He flinched slightly, like he’d been slapped, but he didn’t back down.

“You know this isn’t what you want,” he insisted. “After everything we lived, after everything you told me—”

“What we lived in the Maldives was a fantasy,” I cut in sharply. “And fantasies end when you come back to reality.”

We stood there in the middle of the flow of people, staring at each other in silence. I could see the pain in his eyes. It was the same kind of pain that was tearing my chest apart from the inside. But neither of us said it out loud. Neither of us admitted what was happening.

“It’s better if I leave first,” I said finally, keeping my voice practical and controlled. “In case we’re being watched…”

It was a goodbye disguised as strategy. A way to make our separation logical instead of emotional. It was easier

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that way. Less painful.

Apollo simply nodded, his eyes heavy and resigned.

I turned to walk away, every step a battle against the urge to run back and accept any madness he was willing to offer. Because deep down, part of me still wanted to believe we could work, that we could find a way to make this real in the real world.

“Aphrodite.”

His voice reached me when I was already several meters away. I stopped, but I didn’t turn around right away.

“Aphrodite,” he repeated, louder this time.

I finally turned and saw him running toward me, with urgency and determination written all over his face.

“Marcus,” I said when he stopped in front of me, slightly out of breath.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“My name,” he explained, his blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race. “Marcus.”

I shook my head immediately.

“You shouldn’t—”

“And yours?” he cut in. “Just your first name. I just need that… to remember that these days were real.”

I stood there, fighting every voice in my head screaming at me to walk away. But there was something in the way he looked at me… something raw, vulnerable, almost desperate, that I couldn’t ignore.

“Madeline,” I finally whispered.

“Madeline,” he repeated, like he was tasting it.

I turned again, ready to leave, knowing that if I stayed one more second, I wouldn’t be able to go. But something inside me made me turn back.

Without a word, I stepped closer and pulled him into a kiss.

It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was desperate, intense, and loaded with all the pain and all the longing I already felt for something that was ending. My hands clutched his shirt like he was my anchor in a stormy sea.

Slowly, the kiss softened, turning into something quieter, heavier with sadness. It was a silent goodbye. It was one last moment of intimacy before we went back to being strangers.

When we pulled apart, I held his gaze for a long moment, memorizing every detail of every blue pigment in his eyes and every dark lash. Then I turned and walked away for good, my heart breaking with every step.

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t look back.

That had been the only way to end it. It was harsh, but necessary. I couldn’t drag Marcus into the chaos that was my life. I couldn’t expose him to the dangers waiting for me.

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But as I walked toward the airport exit, I carried the memory of that kiss with me and the exchange of our real names. A secret just ours. Proof that even if that really was the end, it had also been real.

Marcus and Madeline. No longer Apollo and Aphrodite.

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