Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 599

Chapter 599

Gwen’s POV

Darius and Laura arrived right on time at ten Saturday morning, driving an immaculate white SUV.

They were exactly what I expected from successful travel influencers.

He was tall and tan, with deliberately messy-perfect hair and a toothpaste-commercial smile. She was naturally beautiful but clearly well maintained, blonde hair in loose waves, light makeup that probably took an hour to look that “effortlessly natural.”

“Gwen!” Laura said the moment she got out of the car, hugging me like we were old friends. “Finally! Zoey talked so much about you and this place. I’m so excited!”

“It’s a pleasure to have you,” I replied with my best professional smile. “Welcome to Valemont Estate.”

Darius followed right behind her, just as warm, already pulling out his phone to start filming.

“Man, this place is incredible,” he said, scanning the property. “The photos on Instagram don’t do it justice. The light here is perfect.”

Nick appeared to help with their luggage, and I made the formal introductions. Polished. Professional. Distant. As if we didn’t have a complicated history between us.

“Zoey really talked this place up,” Laura said as we walked toward reception. “And you too, Gwen. She said you’re brilliant with digital marketing strategy.”

“She’s very kind,” I replied modestly.

Laura studied me for a moment, her head tilting slightly.

“You know,” she said, “you look really familiar. I’m sure we’ve met before.”

A cold chill ran down my spine.

“I don’t think so,” I said quickly. “I probably just have one of those generic faces.”

“No, that’s not it,” she insisted, frowning as if trying to access a stubborn memory. “I swear I’ve seen you

somewhere.”

“Maybe at a tourism conference?” Darius suggested distractedly, still filming. “You go to a lot of those, babe.”

“Maybe,” Laura agreed, though she was still studying me.

After settling them into their room, our best suite, of course, we organized an initial tour of the property. Nick drove the small tour truck. I sat beside Laura in the back while Darius filmed everything from the

front.

“So, do you only work with rural tourism?” Laura asked as we passed the vineyards.

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“Yeah, I… I’ve been working in that area…” I replied vaguely.

“Have you ever been to Rosemont Villa?” she asked suddenly. “That amazing resort near Stonebridge?”

I had. Many times. It was one of my family’s favorite venues for Kensington corporate events in the

region.

“No,” I lied. “But I’ve heard of it. People say it’s beautiful.”

“It’s spectacular,” Laura said. “We did a video there last year. It went viral.”

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through Instagram.

“Look,” she said, turning the screen toward me. “It was at the launch event for their new pool wing. So many famous people were there.”

I looked at the photo.

I recognized it immediately.

I had been at that event. In fact, Kensington had a long-standing professional relationship with

Rosemont. We were their main wine supplier for hotels and resorts around the world.

“Isn’t this where we met? This girl looks so much like you!”

And there I was.

In the background of one of the photos. Partially hidden by other people, but unmistakably me. Wearing the navy-blue dress I remembered perfectly. My hair pulled into an elegant bun.

“That’s not me,” I said, handing her phone back maybe a little too quickly. “She just looks like me.”

Laura studied the photo again, zooming in.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because she really looks a lot like-”

“I’m sure,” I said firmly. “I’ve never been to that event.”

She looked at me for another long moment, then shrugged.

“Must be a coincidence, then. But the resemblance is crazy.”

The tour continued.

We showed them the medieval tower, the historic chapel, the vineyards in different stages of growth. Darius and Laura filmed and photographed everything, making those enthusiastic, over-the-top comments influencers always made.

When we finished, we headed to the cooking class with Martina, which we’d planned as one of the main

experiences.

The estate’s kitchen had been specially prepared for it. Martina was in her element, running everything

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with that gentle authority only Valentian grandmothers seemed to possess.

“Today we’re making pappardelle with meat sauce,” she announced. “From scratch. Fresh pasta. Traditional sauce. The way my grandma taught me.”

Laura and Darius were completely absorbed, their hands literally in the dough, laughing as Martina corrected them gently.

I stayed in the corner, taking photos and videos for content, making sure we captured the best angles.

Nick had stayed on as Martina’s assistant, bringing ingredients, wiping down counters, basically being the perfect helper.

“Try this,” Martina said at one point, holding out a spoonful of sauce to Laura.

Laura tasted it. Her eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” she said. “This is amazing. I need to send this to Zoey!”

She snapped a selfie holding the spoon, making an exaggerated face of pleasure.

“She swears she makes the meat pasta in the world,” Laura went on, typing her caption, “but after this class with Grandma Martina, she’s officially doomed!”

I laughed, easily imagining Zoey’s competitive reaction.

“Knowing Zoey,” I said, “she’ll probably come take lessons with Martina herself just to prove she’s still

the best.”

“True!” Laura agreed, laughing. “And if she makes Christian the judge, she’ll win no matter what. That man is completely in love. He thinks everything she does is perfect.”

We laughed together, and for a moment I forgot about being tense. About hiding who I really was.

Then Nick, who was on the other side of the counter helping Darius roll out the dough, looked up.

“Christian?” he asked, his gaze shifting to me. “So Zoey is your sister-in-law?”

Shit.

“Yes,” I said, trying to sound casual. “She’s married to my

brother.”

I saw the gears start turning in Laura’s head. Her eyes widened slightly as the pieces clicked into place.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands like she’d solved a mystery. “That must be where I know you from!”

Oh my God.

She was going to say it. She was going to say my last name. Here. In front of Nick. In front of Martina, In front of everyone,

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I needed to do something. Anything. Knock something over. Pretend my phone was ringing. Create a distraction. Anything before-

“Probably from some Kensin-”

D

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