Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 487

Chapter 487

Francesca’s POV

The weight of the electronic ankle monitor had become part of my daily routine-a constant presence, a reminder of my choices and their consequences. I was sitting on the back veranda of the Montgomery estate, watching the vineyards stretch across the rolling hills, when I heard the sound of a car approaching along the main drive.

I checked my watch. It was 3 p.m., exactly as we’d agreed. I slipped inside through the back door and quietly went upstairs to my bedroom, where I had a perfect view of the front entrance.

If Dominic was anything, it was punctual when it came to his meticulously calculated plans. Today’s story would be the same as always. It was a “business meeting” with my parents to discuss joint management of the Montgomery winery. Officially, at least. In reality, those regular visits served far more interesting purposes.

my electronic

Dominic was meticulous in his illegal operations, and bribing the officer responsible for monitoring had been one of his first moves. The man who was a middle-aged public employee with overdue bills and kids in private college hadn’t put up much resistance when Dominic deposited the equivalent of three years’ salary into an offshore account. Now, my regular “business visits” simply never appeared in the reports sent to the judge.

Was it risky? Yes. But Dominic wasn’t the kind of man who left loose ends. He was certain the officer would never betray him-after all, if the scheme were uncovered, the man would be the one going to prison for corruption and facilitating crimes. It was mutual security, built on fear and greed.

Dominic arrived minutes later, closing the door behind him with a soft but decisive click. There was something predatory in the way he moved through my room, briefly inspecting the books on my shelf, the view from the window, before finally turning his attention to me.

“I brought something to celebrate,” he said, pulling a bottle of red wine from inside his jacket. There was no label, of course. “Special production. I thought you’d appreciate the irony.”

I took the bottle, immediately recognizing the vintage by its color and viscosity. It was Kensington. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

“A dangerous celebration, don’t you think?” I asked, pouring two glasses I kept in my room specifically for occasions like this.

“This one’s from the clean batches,” he replied. “Wouldn’t be much fun to celebrate our victory if we poisoned ourselves too, would it?”

I laughed at the dark logic. We clinked glasses, the sound echoing softly through the room.

“To the fall of the Kensingtons,” I said, taking a generous sip.

“To their inevitable collapse,” Dominic agreed, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. “Christian Kensington retreating. Pulling all products from the global market. Almost too satisfying to watch.”

1/4

I moved toward the window, gazing out at the vineyards.

“I can almost see his face,” I murmured, genuinely savoring the thought. “All that arrogance, finally broken. Christian always thought he was untouchable. Superior. Watching him be forced to publicly admit defeat… it’s almost better than the money.”

“Almost,” Dominic agreed with a malicious smile, stepping up behind me. “But the money is nice too.”

I felt his hands on my hips, pulling me back against him. It was a dangerous game we were playing-a dance between allies who didn’t fully trust each other, but who found pleasure both in the conspiracy and in the physical pull between us.

I turned in his arms, our closeness leaving very little space between our bodies.

“Careful, Dominic,” I warned with a teasing smile. “I don’t accept being anyone’s second choice.”

He laughed, low and genuinely amused.

“People are only options to me when they serve my purpose,” he said with brutal honesty. “Madeline will only be useful until she gives birth to the girl.”

There was something chilling in the way he said it, as if he were discussing the usefulness of a tool, not

a woman he supposedly loved.

“And after that?” I asked, genuinely curious how far his plans went.

Dominic took another sip of wine before answering, his eyes locked on mine with unsettling intensity.

“A tragic story, don’t you think?” he said far too calmly. “With the entire Sullivan family dead, the girl becomes the sole heir. And I… well, I’m her father. The administrator of everything.”

A shiver ran down my spine-but not from fear. From a twisted thrill at the sheer audacity of the plan.

“A beautiful story,” I agreed, stepping back slightly so I could study him. “If she’s really your daughter.”

Dominic smiled, and there was absolute confidence in that smile.

“She will be. There’s nothing a purchased DNA test can’t fix.”

The casual way he said it-as if falsifying paternity tests were just another item on a to-do list-was both shocking and disturbingly impressive.

“And Marcus Kensington?” I asked, setting my glass aside. “I assume he won’t just accept losing his wife

and daughter.”

Dominic’s expression turned even colder, if that was possible.

“Dead men don’t complain.”

This time, I laughed for real, shaking my head with a mix of disbelief and twisted admiration.

“So that’s your solution to everything? A trail of bodies?”

2/4

Dominic stepped closer again, his hand rising to cup my face with a grip that bordered on possessive.

“I don’t like anyone getting in my way,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

“And you don’t think that’ll raise suspicions?” I pressed, more out of strategic curiosity than genuine concern. “All these conveniently timed deaths?”

He smiled, and there was something genuinely amused in his expression.

“What suspicions? I won’t do anything.”

It took me a moment to fully grasp what he meant. When I did, I couldn’t help laughing.

“Your little toy will?” I asked, referring to Vivianne. “Is that why she’s still useful to you?”

“Exactly.”

The simplicity of his answer-the ease with which he’d turned another human being into a disposable tool-made something very clear to me about Dominic Blackwood. Everyone around him was just a chess piece. Useful while they served a purpose. Disposable when they didn’t.

And that included me.

I stepped closer again, this time with a different intent. My hands slid over his shoulders, my lips hovering just shy of his as I spoke.

“You know, Dominic, you and I have something in common,” I murmured, seductive with a sharp edge of warning beneath it. “I also only keep people around as long as they’re useful. So don’t even think about betraying me-because if you do, I’ll have already betrayed you first.”

I felt him laugh against my lips before we finally kissed-a kiss that had less to do with desire and far more to do with a mutual promise of destruction if either of us crossed the other.

When we pulled apart, Dominic wore that malicious smile I was starting to recognize.

“That never even crossed my mind,” he said.

We both knew it was a lie. Everything crossed Dominic Blackwood’s mind. He just chose which thoughts to turn into action.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Forty minutes had passed-the maximum we could stretch these ” business meetings” without raising suspicion.

“Good,” I said, stepping back completely and straightening my clothes. “Now go. Visiting hours are over.”

Dominic nodded, grabbing his jacket and the nearly empty wine bottle. At the door, he turned back one

last time.

“See you at our next business meeting,” he said with a conspiratorial smile.

“I can’t wait to discuss more… operational details,” I replied in the same tone.

3/4

When he left, closing the door behind him, I returned to the window. I watched him cross the garden, politely greet my parents, and finally drive away down the dirt road that led back to the main highway.

I touched the electronic anklet around my ankle, feeling its familiar weight. It was a prison, yes. But even prisons can become fortresses once you learn how to use their limitations to your advantage.

Christian Kensington had put me here. He’d destroyed my freedom with his carefully constructed accusations and evidence. But he’d made one fatal mistake-he’d left me alive. With time to plan.

Resources to act. And now, an ally as ruthless as I was.

The fall of the Kensingtons would be slow, painful, and absolutely irreversible.

And I would have the perfect view from my gilded prison, watching every step of their destruction.

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