Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 60

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Chapter 60

The Kensington private jet landed smoothly at Virelia’s international airport. Through the window, I watched the Valentian morning sun cast a golden glow over the city I had only ever seen in fashion magazines. A shiver of excitement ran down my spine, despite the exhaustion of twelve hours in the air-during which Isabelle Kensington had taken every opportunity to share her detailed opinions on how a proper Kensington wife should behave.

“Weren’t we supposed to go straight to Montelira?” I whispered to Christian as we collected our luggage.

“Change of plans,” he replied with a resigned sigh. “Mother insisted on a strategic stop in the fashion capital.” Isabelle approached, still impossibly elegant after the transatlantic flight, not a single hair out of place. “Darlings, I’ve already made reservations at the Rosemont Hotel. The most exclusive in Virelia.” Her gaze landed directly on me. “No one visits Valentia without passing through Virelia. Especially someone who needs… to refine her wardrobe.”

I bit my lip to stop a sharp reply. Christian noticed my tension and gave my hand a brief squeeze.

“Rosemont?” he remarked, glancing at me with a small smile. “Interesting coincidence.”

A wave of nostalgia hit me unexpectedly. It felt like years had passed since that night I’d approached a stranger at Alex and Elise’s wedding, mistaking him for an escort.

The Rosemonte Hotel was, as expected, the very definition of opulence. Marble floors, glittering chandeliers, impeccably dressed staff-everything designed to make ordinary people feel inadequate. And from the look on Isabelle’s face as she watched me take it all in, that was precisely her intention.

“I have lunch reservations at Secret Garden in one hour,” she announced, consulting her diamond-studded watch. “Plenty of time to freshen up.”

Our suite was bigger than my entire apartment. The panoramic view of the city stole my breath, and the bed looked large enough to fit an entire family.

“Sorry about this,” Christian said once we were alone. “Mother has a talent for complicating things.”

“I’m starting to think it’s deliberate,” I replied, collapsing onto the luxurious bed. “She seems determined to make me feel like a fish out of water.”

“You’re handling her better than anyone I’ve ever seen,” he admitted, sitting beside me. “Including myself.”

After the most intimidating lunch of my life-where I had to decipher not only a menu in Valentian but also which of the five forks to use with each dish-Isabelle unveiled her plans for the afternoon.

“The Aureum District. We mustn’t miss it.”

What followed was three exhausting hours wandering through exclusive boutiques where the salespeople seemed to evaluate your worth the moment you stepped through the door. Isabelle shopped relentlessly while making pointed remarks about how I needed to “develop a style worthy of a Kensington.”

When Lawrence received a call and announced that he and Christian had to meet an important supplier, I thought my day couldn’t possibly get worse.

“We’ll be back in two hours, at most,” Christian promised, looking genuinely regretful to leave me with his mother.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Isabelle said sweetly. “I’ll take good care of your wife.”

Five minutes after they left, Isabelle “remembered” an urgent engagement and abandoned me on Aurum Street, surrounded by luxury boutiques I wouldn’t have dared to enter alone.

Relief and panic warred inside me. Free of Isabelle, but stranded in the heart of international fashion, armed with nothing more than “grazie” and “pizza” in Valentian.

That was when I spotted a small boutique with windows displaying the most exquisite lingerie. Annabelle’s words about taking advantage of Valentia to refresh my intimate wardrobe echoed in my mind. Why not? It was my honeymoon, after all.