Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 595

Chapter 595

Gwen’s POV

I had left Florentia before dawn, driving along the familiar road as the sun slowly rose over the Castorian hills. Nick knew I was coming for the weekend. After all, the influencers Zoey had booked were arriving on Saturday, and we needed to make sure everything was perfect. But I hadn’t told him I’d be coming on Friday. I hadn’t told him I was coming a day early.

I went straight to the local branch of Castoria Capital Bank, the bank that held Nick’s debt. I had chosen to handle it in person instead of trying to manage it from Florentia. Less bureaucracy. More control.

The bank was small but elegant, with the atmosphere of an old institution trying to look modern. Marble floors. Dark wood counters. Employees in impeccable suits assisting the few morning clients.

I walked directly to the front desk.

“Good morning,” I said to the man behind the counter, a man in his fifties with thin-framed glasses. “I need to speak to someone about paying off a debt.”

“Of course, ma’am. One moment, please.”

He guided me to a private office, where I was greeted by a manager. Giorgio Marini, according to the nameplate on his desk.

“How can I help you?” he asked, gesturing for me to sit.

I placed the folder I’d brought on the desk and took out the papers Christian had helped me prepare.

“I want to pay off a debt,” I said directly. “It’s in the name of Nicholas Valemont. This is the contract

number.”

I slid the paper with the information across the desk.

The manager picked it up, typed something into his computer, and waited. His eyes scanned the screen. He frowned slightly.

“Are you related to the debtor?” he asked, peering at me over his glasses.

“No.”

“Then…” he hesitated. “May I ask why you want to pay this debt?”

I kept my expression perfectly neutral. Professional.

“Because losing that property is not in my plans.”

He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with my blunt answer.

“I see,” he said slowly. “I’ll check with our legal department. In principle, there is no legal obstacle to third- party payment. Just a moment.”

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He stood and left the office, leaving me alone with generic paintings of Castorian landscapes on the

walls.

He returned ten minutes later with a thick folder and an even more uneasy expression.

“Ma’am,” he began, sitting down again, “we have a… complication.”

“What kind of complication?”

“The debt in question is currently being negotiated for assignment,” he explained, opening the folder and showing me documents I couldn’t read upside down. “To a third party. An investor who is purchasing a package of distressed loans.”

“Assignment?” I repeated, making sure I understood. “You’re selling his debt?”

“Essentially, yes. It’s a common practice when loans fall into prolonged default. The bank recovers part of the amount, and the new creditor assumes the risk and collection rights.”

The words hit me like a punch.

If this man bought the debt, he would take the property. That had to be his goal.

“But you told Nick he had time,” I said, my voice harder now. “Sixty days to fix the situation or present a proposal. That was less than three weeks ago.”

The manager adjusted his tie, avoiding full eye contact.

“Ma’am, that kind of deadline is a scenario, not a formal obligation on the bank’s part.”

“In other words, it was more talk than a real guarantee.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way… but yes. The contract allows the bank to sell the loan earlier. And once a credit enters a package like this, my hands are tied. It’s not my decision. I only manage the local branch.”

“Then untie them,” I said, leaning forward. “I’m here. Right now. Ready to pay the full amount. Forty-two thousand dollars. That solves the bank’s problem, doesn’t it?”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, as if a headache were starting to form.

“It’s not that simple,” he said. “The loan has already been classified as distressed in our system. And there’s an investor in advanced negotiations with the bank to purchase this debt along with others as part of a closed package.”

He paused.

“I understand your proposal. I really do. But this deal is practically finalized. If I pull this specific loan out of the package now, I ruin the entire transaction. It complicates everything.”

“And this package is really that good?” I asked, an idea beginning to form.

He looked at me cautiously.

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“For the bank, it’s extremely advantageous. We’re talking about several distressed loans sold at once. It cleans up our balance sheet. Reduces risk.”

“How advantageous, exactly?” I pressed, adopting the look of someone with a counteroffer in mind.

The manager hesitated, clearly torn between protocol and opportunity.

“Officially, I’m not supposed to disclose those figures,” he said slowly. “But if you’re interested in acquiring the entire loan package, I can take a proposal to the committee today.”

“The entire package?” I repeated. “How many debts are we talking about?”

He checked his computer, his fingers moving quickly.

“Seventeen distressed loans. Various sectors. Retail, agriculture, small businesses. Total face value of approximately 3.2 million dollars.”

For a moment, the air left my lungs.

This wasn’t about paying off forty-two thousand dollars. It was about buying an entire portfolio of bad

debt.

“And what is the current investor offering?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

“2.2 million,” he replied. “Cash payment. It’s a significant discount from face value, but for distressed assets, it’s an excellent offer.”

I did the math quickly in my head. I had that money. Technically, I had much more than that. But it was an insane amount to spend just to save one forty-two-thousand-dollar loan.

On the other hand, I would own the loans. I could try to recover at least part of them.

And more importantly, I would save Nick.

“If I offer 2.3 million,” I said, surprising even myself with how steady my voice was, “cash. Wire transfer today. Will you accept?”

The manager stared at me as if I had grown a second head.

“Ma’am…” he began, then stopped, recalculating. “You… you have that amount available?”

“I do,” I confirmed. “And I can transfer it as soon as we have a formal agreement.”

He fell silent for a long moment, clearly trying to decide whether I was serious or completely insane.

“I’ll need to consult the board,” he said finally. “But I believe for a higher, all-cash offer, they’ll accept. The other investor is still negotiating. If we close with you today, everything moves faster.”

“Good.”

I left the bank half an hour later, having completed every required procedure. The manager had promised that by Monday, the entire package would officially be mine. I would become the creditor of seventeen

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people, including Nicholas Valemont.

I had just spent more than two million dollars to save the property of a man who had told me I was “just a friend.”

I was walking toward my car, parked a few blocks away, still trying to process what I had just done, when I heard a familiar little voice shout, “Gwen!”

I stopped instantly.

I pushed my sunglasses up onto my head and looked for the source of the sound.

And there was Bella.

Inside a gelato shop across the street, sitting at a table near a large glass window. Waving at me enthusiastically, a huge smile on her little face.

But she wasn’t alone.

Nick was there sitting beside her, looking in my direction with an expression I couldn’t fully read.

And Renee.

Leaning toward him in a way that was far, far too intimate. Her hand reaching toward him. Touching his arm. Smiling that way women smile when they’re flirting.

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