Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 598

Chapter 598

Gwen’s POV

I glanced around quickly. The reception area was empty. Paula had gone somewhere. Martina was in the kitchen with Bella. No guests in sight.

Still, I lowered my voice.

“Christian, this isn’t the best time,” I said, moving to the farthest corner of the lobby.

“I can’t reach you on your cell,” he snapped, his voice sharp, “so this is the time. I need to understand what the hell went through your head.”

1 stretched the cord of the landline as far as it would go and looked out the window. Nick was still outside, talking to a couple of guests who seemed to have questions about local tours. He gestured with his hands and smiled politely.

“I know I messed up,” I began, running my free hand over my face.

“Messed up?” Christian repeated, and I could picture his expression perfectly. “What happened to just paying his debt? It was forty-two thousand dollars. You have that in your checking account. You could’ve solved this with a simple transfer.”

“It wasn’t an option,” I explained, keeping my voice low but steady. “The debt was already bundled for assignment. The bank wouldn’t accept an individual payment. It was all or nothing.”

“So you decided,” Christian said, each word slow, controlled, dangerously calm, “that the solution was to use a Kensington holding company to buy a package of bad loans for over two million dollars?”

There was heavy silence on the line as he took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein himself in.

“I told you I wouldn’t interfere in your personal life, Gwen,” he went on, his voice hardening. “I said you had the right to your own investments. Your own decisions. But this stopped being personal the moment you used Kensington’s corporate structure. The moment our company appeared on official documents buying distressed debt.”

“I’m going to reimburse it,” I said quickly. “I’ll put the money back into the company. I’m already arranging the transfer from my personal accounts. I only used the holding because Nick will be notified that his debt was sold. My name couldn’t appear anywhere. You know that. If it said ‘Gwen Kensington,’ he’d figure everything out.”

“Did it occur to you,” Christian said, his voice turning even colder, “that any one of those debtors who looks into this even a little will trace it back to the Kensington name? That they’ll see a company in our group bought the package?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I hadn’t thought about that. Not really. I’d been so focused on saving Nick, on fixing the immediate problem, that I hadn’t considered the wider consequences,

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“Did it occur to you,” he continued relentlessly, “that the financial press could link us to aggressive debt acquisitions? That they could speculate we’re entering the debt recovery market? That this could damage our reputation as a traditional family wine company?”

He paused, and I heard papers rustling.

“Did you even analyze what kind of businesses were in that package?” he asked. “Because I just got the full report. It’s everything. Failed small retailers. Farms that couldn’t pay for equipment. A pizzeria. Two clothing stores. A beauty salon.”

His voice grew even tighter.

“And there’s a transportation company in the package that’s being investigated for tax evasion. Congratulations, Gwen. Now Kensington is linked to a debtor under criminal investigation.”

My stomach dropped.

“I asked…” I said weakly. “I mean, I asked about the package at the bank…”

“Gwen,” Christian cut in, and now there was exhaustion mixed in with his anger. “Just fix this. Transfer the money back to the holding company. Put the loans in your personal name if you have to. Hire a lawyer to review every one of these debts and see if any of them pose legal risk. And for the love of God, don’t do anything else without consulting someone first.”

“Christian…”

“I have to go,” he interrupted. “I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. But we’ll talk this through properly when you’re back in Florentia. And Gwen?”

“Yes?”

“Next time you feel like spending two million dollars on an emotional impulse, call me first. Not after.”

The line went dead.

I stood there holding the receiver, listening to the dial tone, trying to process everything he had said.

Criminal investigation. Financial press. Aggressive acquisitions. Reputational risk.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Trouble?”

I spun around so fast I almost dropped the phone.

Nick was standing in the doorway of the reception area, hands in his pockets, concern written all over

his face.

How long had he been there? How much had he heard?

I forced a smile I knew didn’t reach my eyes.

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“Family stuff,” I said, placing the receiver back on the hook more carefully than necessary. “You know how it is. Siblings. When don’t they cause trouble, right? Brothers. Ex-wives…”

I saw Nick tense immediately.

“About that,” he began, pulling his hands from his pockets and stepping toward me, “I was only at the gelato shop with Renee because she filed for formal visitation with Bella. A court officer served the papers and everything. I didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t… it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“You don’t owe me explanations,” I said, keeping my voice neutral even though I felt anything but. “We’re just friends, remember?”

“Gwen, about that…”

“I’m tired,” I cut in, already moving toward the stairs. “I’m going to lie down for a bit. I’ll see you later.”

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