Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 623

Chapter 623

Nicholas’ POV

I left the house before the sun had fully risen.

Bella was still asleep, so I slipped into her room on tiptoe, kissed her forehead, and whispered that I’d be back Sunday night.

In the kitchen, Martina had already made fresh coffee and was wrapping something in parchment paper.

“Snack for the road,” she announced, handing me a little bundle tied carefully with string.

“Mom, it’s only a few hours’ drive,” I said, half laughing.

“So what?” she shot back with that classic maternal stubbornness. “You’ll want something to eat on the

way.”

I took the package, feeling the comforting weight of homemade bread and, most likely, cheese.

That’s when I noticed the note taped to the side, clearly written in Bella’s careful, childish handwriting: ‘ Have a good trip, Daddy! Eat everything! Grandma helped me make it just for you. I love you so much! Come back soon! – Bella.’

Something tightened in my chest.

It was just a short drive. I didn’t even need a snack. But the love behind that small gesture hit me hard.

“Thank you,”

,” I said to my mother, pulling her into a quick hug. “Take good care of her.”

“I always do,” she assured me, gently pushing me toward the door. “Now go. And behave yourself in Florentia.”

I got into the car, placed the little food bundle on the passenger seat, started the engine.

And left.

The first part of the drive was peaceful.

Mountain roads I could navigate with my eyes closed. Gentle curves. Beautiful scenery. The sun rising over sleeping vineyards.

But the farther I got from the mountains, the closer I came to Florentia, the more everything changed.

The roads widened. Traffic thickened. Cars sped up, honked, cut each other off without signaling.

me I crossed into the city limits, it was chaos.

Toasts stopping in the middle of the street to take pictures. Literally in the middle of the street. A group of them almost caused an accident by stepping backward without looking just to photograph a medieval façade.

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Horns blared everywhere. Motorcycles zoomed past dangerously close. Tour buses blocked entire lanes.

I took a deep breath, trying to let it go.

The noise. The chaos. The complete lack of consideration.

This was Gwen’s world.

And I genuinely wanted to be part of it, if this was what she loved.

I couldn’t be selfish enough to assume she’d be the one to change her entire life and move to Montepulciano just because… I preferred it that way.

I knew we’d have to compromise. Adapt. Make it work.

And I was completely open to that this weekend.

Even if some idiot on a Vespa had just cut me off without warning, passing within inches of my side mirror and forcing me to slam on the brakes.

“God damn it,” I muttered under my breath, inhaling slowly.

I stopped at a red light and took the chance to double-check the address Gwen had sent me.

Montclair Row was one of the most expensive streets in Florentia, as far as I knew. Did that… make sense? Was that really her address, or had she decided to meet somewhere else and forgotten to tell

me?

That’s when I noticed the notification on my phone.

It was a message from Renee.

My stomach tightened instantly.

We hadn’t spoken since that awful scene at dinner. And honestly, I had zero desire to talk to her anytime

soon.

But the message read: [We need to talk. Urgent.]

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

I wasn’t going to let Renee ruin this weekend too. Not again.

So I decided to answer and shut it down fast.

I typed back: [If this is about seeing Bella, forget it. After what you pulled, we’ll settle that in court.]

came almost immediately.

[It’s not about Bella. It’s about your little girlfriend. You have no idea who Gwen really is.]

I frowned at the screen.

2/4

What?

What was she talking about?

Another message popped up right after.

[And trust me. You’re going to fall over when you find out.]

Anger flared hot in my chest.

I blocked her.

There was nothing left to discuss. About Bella, we’d deal with it legally. And about Gwen… who did she think she was, trying to interfere in my relationship with ridiculous lies?

It was obvious what she was doing. Planting doubts. Manipulating. Trying to destroy the only good thing that had happened in my life in years.

It wasn’t going to work.

I exhaled slowly, tossed the phone into the cup holder, and drove on toward the address.

By the time I reached Montclair Row, my stomach was in knots because of the place itself.

The storefronts said it all. Luxury brands I’d only ever seen in magazines. Perfectly polished windows. People walking slowly, not because they had nowhere to be, but because they knew their time was worth more than my entire month’s income.

And right in the middle of it all stood an ancient palazzo with a flawless façade.

I stopped the car in the street and just stared.

It was a historic building. Renaissance architecture, impeccably preserved. Ornate wrought-iron gates. Stone details that screamed centuries of history and money.

High-end didn’t even begin to cover it.

My car, old and still dusty from mountain roads, with that strange engine noise I’d never bothered fixing, looked painfully out of place.

I checked the address again on my phone, convinced I’d gotten the number wrong.

But no.

Montclair Row. The number matched.

slowly up to the entrance and rolled down my window as the impeccably dressed doorman

“Good afternoon,” I said, trying to sound confident. “I’m not sure if I’m in the right place, but my name’s Nicholas. I’m here to see Gwen. Apartment…” I glanced at my phone again. “Penthouse.”

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The doorman checked something on a sleek tablet.

“Ah, yes,” he said smoothly. “Miss Gwen is expecting you. You may enter. The garage is to the left. There’s a reserved visitor space on the second underground level.”

He paused and pressed something that opened the gate automatically.

“The elevators are at the back. The penthouse is accessed with this code. Miss Gwen has already authorized your entry.”

I muttered a thank-you that barely made it past my lips and drove inside.

The gate closed behind me with a heavy, final sound.

I sat there in the car for a long moment, engine still running, staring at the underground garage with its polished floors and luxury vehicles lined up in perfect rows.

So this was it?

Gwen lived… here?

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