Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 583

Chapter 583

Gwen’s POV

“So you’re asking me to lie to my husband?”

Zoey’s voice came through my phone, heavy with disbelief and something that sounded suspiciously

like reluctant amusement.

And, well… yes. That was exactly my plan.

We were on a video call again. Me, in the living room of my Florentia apartment, still in my work clothes because I’d gotten home less than ten minutes earlier. Zoey, at a spa, apparently relaxing with a generous glass of red wine and what looked like a green facial mask covering half her face.

It made sense. It was still afternoon where she was, sunlight pouring through the window behind her, while here it was already night, the city lights beginning to flicker outside.

“I’m not asking you to lie,” I corrected, adjusting a cushion behind me on the couch. “I’m asking you to… not tell my brother something.”

Zoey stared at me through the screen, her eyes openly skeptical even under the green mask.

“Gwen, I can’t do that,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “I don’t lie to Christian. Ever. That’s, like, rule number one in our marriage. Zero lies. I honestly thought you’d already talked to him about this insane idea of yours before promising to work with another winery.”

“Zoey…” I started, leaning forward. “Zoey, it’s not another winery. Not in that sense. It’s the entire life legacy of a man who-”

I stopped, took a breath, tried to organize the thoughts crashing through me.

“Who is one of the most decent men I’ve ever met,” I continued, the words spilling out faster now. “A man who wakes up at five every morning to take care of a property his father built with his own hands. Who’s raising his daughter alone after his ex-wife walked away. Who works himself to the bone trying to keep everything afloat when it would be so much easier to just give up and sell.”

I inhaled again, emotion tightening my throat.

“And Bella, Zoey. You should meet Bella. She’s six years old and the sweetest child you can imagine. She draws pictures of the three of us as a family. She wears the necklace I gave her every single day. She treats me like I actually belong in her life.”

I watched Zoey set her wineglass aside, her expression softening even beneath the mask.

“And Martina,” I went on, unable to stop now. “Nick’s mother. She cooks like every meal is a love letter. She hugged me and thanked me for trying to help even though she barely knows me. She trusts me when she shouldn’t, because I’m lying to all of them.”

My voice cracked slightly on the last sentence.

Chapter 583

+25 Bonus

“They don’t deserve to be evicted, Zoey. They don’t deserve to lose everything because Nick’s father made some bad financial decisions years ago. They don’t deserve to watch generations of family history get taken by a bank and sold to the highest bidder.”

There was silence on the other end for a long moment.

Then Zoey smiled. It was a small, knowing smile.

“You’re in love,” she said, not as a question, but as a statement.

“No!” I shot back immediately, far too fast to sound convincing. “Of course not. I mean-”

I stopped, dragging my hands over my face in frustration.

“I don’t know,” I admitted more quietly. “It’s too soon to know that, isn’t it? We barely really know each other. We’ve only seen each other, what, a handful of times? How could I possibly know if I’m in love?”

Zoey laughed, lifting her wineglass again and taking another generous sip.

“I don’t know, Gwen,” she said, her voice softer now, more sincere. “I think I knew the first time I danced with Christian and he looked me in the eyes. Even though I tried to deny it back then, because he was way too full of himself and kind of annoying with all that confidence.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out.

“He’s still kind of annoying with all that confidence,” I pointed out.

“True,” Zoey agreed with a smile. “But deep down, you know. You always know when it’s different. When it’s real. Even if you try to convince yourself otherwise.”

I stayed quiet for a moment, letting her words settle.

“Maybe,” I finally admitted, my voice lower, more vulnerable, “Nick is making me open myself up to that possibility again.”

Zoey studied me through the screen, and even with half her face covered in a mask, I could see the understanding in her eyes.

“Then you need to tell him the truth,” she said gently. “Before he finds out some other way. Before it’s too

late.”

“I know,” I murmured.

“But first,” Zoey continued, sighing dramatically, “you need to tell Christian. Because I’m not lying to my husband, Gwen. I won’t do that, not even for you.”

My stomach dropped.

“Zoey-”

“But,” she lifted a finger, cutting me off, “I’m not saying anything to Christian. Not yet. Because you are

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going to tell him. Soon. Like, within the next few days, not months.”

She paused, letting it sink in.

“You know your brother, Gwen. He’s a workaholic, obsessed with business, a little controlling sometimes. But he’s not just that. He’s not a heartless corporate monster. If you explain it properly, calmly, show him that you’re not harming Kensington in any way, he’ll understand. He might not like it, he might get irritated at first, but he’ll understand.”

“Yeah… I know,” I said, wanting to believe that.

Christian was my brother. We’d worked together for years. He trusted me, my judgment, my decisions.

But this? This was different. This was personal tangled up with professional in the messiest possible

way.

“So you have one week,” Zoey said firmly. “One week to talk to Christian before I mention anything. After that, if you haven’t said something, I will. I’m not keeping secrets from him indefinitely. Deal?”

“Deal,” I agreed, even as my stomach twisted at the thought.

“Good,” Zoey smiled, raising her glass in a mock toast. “And keep me updated on everything, especially the forbidden romance with the mountain hermit.”

I ended the call a few minutes later, promising to stay in touch and thanking her again for the help.

But I stayed sitting on the couch long after, staring at the dark screen of my phone, thinking.

Christian I could handle. I knew my brother well enough to know how to approach the subject, how to present the facts in a way that would make sense to him. It would be uncomfortable, maybe even turn into an argument, but eventually he would understand.

But Nick?

Nick, the man who had explicitly said he hated rich people who thought they could buy anything. Who had spoken with such contempt about big corporations swallowing family businesses whole. Who took fierce pride in keeping the property independent even while drowning in debt.

Would Nick understand if I told him the whole truth?

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