Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 564

Chapter 564

Nicholas’ POV

The fire in the living room fireplace was almost out when I came downstairs to tend to it one last time before bed. Only a few embers still glowed faintly, casting dancing shadows on the walls. I grabbed the poker and stirred the ashes, making sure everything was safe before adding a couple more logs to keep a minimum amount of warmth through the night.

The room was empty. Silent.

That was how Sunday nights usually were, after most of the weekend guests had already left. During the week, the inn was practically empty. Just the occasional lone traveler, off-season tourists who came precisely because no one else did and the prices were better.

That was how we survived.

Dragging ourselves from one weekend to the next. Stretching every euro. Making the money last as long as possible to keep the property running and still pay down the debts that never seemed to shrink, no matter how hard we worked, how much we saved, how many sacrifices we made.

It wasn’t easy. It never had been. But in the last few years, it had gotten worse. Competition from larger, more modern wineries with massive marketing budgets. The rising costs of maintaining an old building. Taxes that seemed to go up every year. Everything piling up into a mountain that got harder and harder to climb.

Still, I had to do it all, every day.

Fix what broke. Clean what got dirty. Cook when needed. Drive the tour bus when there were enough guests to justify it. And hope, somehow, for a miracle. For a little breathing room. For a stretch of time where bankruptcy wasn’t constantly chasing us.

Because the alternative was selling everything.

And I would never forgive myself if it came to that.

I knew how much this place meant to my mother. This property wasn’t just a house or a business to her. It was where she’d built a life with my father. Where she’d raised me. Where every stone, every tree, every corner held decades of love and hard work. Losing it would be like tearing out a piece of her soul.

And, if I was honest, it mattered to me too.

I’d grown up running through these vineyards. Learned how to make wine with my father in the old cellars. Learned every inch of this land. It was a legacy. A legacy I wanted to pass on to Bella someday. Not as a crushing burden the way it had become for me, but as something that could secure her future. Something she could choose to keep or walk away from, but that would have real value either way.

That was when I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned and saw Gwen standing in the doorway of the living room.

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“Need help?” she asked, already stepping closer before I could answer.

“You don’t need to,” I said, but she was already picking up a couple of logs from the pile beside the fireplace. “You’re a guest. You shouldn’t be doing manual labor.”

“Former guest, technically,” she corrected with a small smile. “And besides, I don’t mind helping.”

We worked in silence for a few minutes, arranging the logs, organizing the tools. It was a comfortable silence. Not forced. As if we’d done this together a hundred times before.

“Dinner was delicious,” Gwen said eventually. “Your mother is an incredible cook. That mushroom risotto? Perfect. And the tiramisù at the end? I almost asked for the recipe, but I know Valentian cooks never give up their secrets.”

I laughed.

“You’re right. My mother guards her recipes like state secrets.”

“It’s part of the charm,” Gwen said, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “Every family with its own version, passed down from generation to generation.”

I nodded, setting the last log in place. That was when I noticed Gwen shift, reaching into her pocket. When I looked up, she was holding a small velvet box I recognized immediately.

“I wanted to give this back to you,” she said, holding it out. “And thank your mother for letting me wear it. For trusting something so valuable to a complete stranger.”

I took the box, feeling its familiar weight in the palm of my hand.

“It’s beautiful,” Gwen went on softly. “And it’s beautiful that she’s kept it all these years. It must mean so

much to her.”

“It does,” I agreed, opening the box to look at the ring one more time. The stone still shimmered, even in the low light of the fireplace. “It’s one of the few valuable things she refused to sell when we needed money to keep the inn afloat. We sold almost everything that had any worth. Old family silver, antique furniture, anything that might bring something in. But she wouldn’t let this go.”

“Memories like that are priceless,” Gwen said, real understanding in her voice.

“They are,” I replied, closing the box and slipping it into my pocket. “But at the end of the day, things with

a price tag matter too. Especially when you have bills to pay and a small child to raise.”

I saw Gwen study me for a long moment, her blue eyes reflecting the firelight.

“Is the villa really doing that badly?” she asked. There was no judgment in her tone. Only genuine

concern.

I forced a smile. The one I’d perfected over the years to hide my worries.

“We’re getting by,” I said lightly. “You know how it is. Some months are better than others. But there are days when it gets discouraging. Days when you wonder if it’s worth fighting so hard.”

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Gwen nodded, taking that in.

“Have you ever thought about selling?” she asked. “I mean, this place must be worth a lot. The land, the villa, the winery, all of it together. You could probably get good money. Start over in Florentia, or Virelia, or Ravona. Pay for Bella’s education. Have a more… comfortable life.”

“Martina would never allow it,” I said honestly. “This land is everything to her. It’s where my father is buried. Where every important memory of her life happened. Selling it would feel like betraying him. Betraying her. Betraying everything they built together.”

I paused, then added,

“Besides, I’m a mountain man, not a city man. I wouldn’t survive the chaos, the polished suit-and-tie types, or being stuck in an office from nine to five. I’d die of boredom or claustrophobia in a week.”

Gwen laughed, a genuine, bright sound.

“That really would be a tragedy,” she said, her tone lighter now, almost teasing. “You’d look great in a suit and tie… but you look much better shirtless, chopping wood.”

I couldn’t help smiling.

“Fair point,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “And you’d look amazing running a boardroom in one of those power suits… but you look even better with messy hair and cheeks pink from mountain cold.”

I watched the blush climb up her neck, her cheeks turning exactly the color I’d just described.

We looked at each other for a long moment, something unspoken hanging in the air between us.

Then we both moved at the same time. I reached for another log I didn’t need. She adjusted one that was already perfectly placed. Our hands met in the middle, fingers brushing, and we both froze.

The touch was electric. Even through the soot and ash on our hands. Even though it was just the lightest brush of skin.

Gwen stepped closer. Slowly. She rose onto her toes, never taking her eyes off mine, and pressed her lips to mine in a quick kiss.

Then she pulled back, taking a step away.

“Goodbye, Nick,” she said softly, her voice full of something I couldn’t quite name. “Thank you for everything.”

She turned and started toward the door.

And I stood there, frozen, fighting my instincts, my body, and my mind.

Then something clicked.

I didn’t need to resist anymore.

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There was no confusion now. No vulnerability I might be taking advantage of. Standing in front of me was a beautiful, intelligent, incredible woman who clearly, consciously, and with her full mind intact, wanted the same thing I did.

“Gwen,” I called, my voice rough.

She stopped. Turned back. Her eyes met mine across the space between us, questioning. Waiting.

I crossed the distance in three long strides. My hand found her face, my fingers tangling in her hair. I pulled her to me and kissed her for real this time.

With all the hunger, all the desire, all the need I’d been suppressing.

Her back hit the wall beside the door, and I pressed my body against hers, erasing every inch of space

between us.

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