Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 631

Chapter 631

Nicholas’ POV

That Monday, I was supposed to head back to Montelira early.

That was the plan. Wake up, grab a quick coffee, get in the car, and go back to real life.

Instead, I was sitting in the cheapest café I could find within three blocks of the city center, staring down at a watery cappuccino and a croissant that had clearly seen better days.

My phone rested on the table, the screen open to a search: Kensington Florentia headquarters.

There was an address. Photos of the building. Articles about expansion, exports, awards. I scrolled through it all like it belonged to some other galaxy, not to the family of the woman I’d shared a tiny inn room with.

I sighed.

I didn’t have a perfect plan. Just an uncomfortable feeling that had stuck with me since the weekend. If I was really going to try to build a life with a Kensington, then I at least needed to try to get mine to a place where I didn’t feel like a burden.

It wasn’t about proving something to her. It was about trying to prove something to myself.

The Kensington building took up almost half the block. Glass, clean lines, marble on the ground floor. It wasn’t flashy, but it had the kind of presence that made you straighten your back without even realizing it.

I paused in front of the revolving doors for a second, taking a deep breath.

Gwen worked there. She walked through that lobby every day like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I stepped inside.

The floor was so polished it reflected the ceiling lights. The reception area was wide, with a long desk, flower arrangements, and couches where a few people sat waiting while checking their phones. Behind the desk, a woman in an impeccable suit was typing on her computer.

“Good morning,” she said professionally as soon as she looked up. “How can I help you?”

“I’d like to speak with Christian Kensington.”

“Do you have an appointment with Mr. Kensington?” she asked, already reaching for her mouse.

“An appointment?” I repeated, feeling like an idiot the moment the word left my mouth.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, still formal. “Meetings with the CEO are only held with a previously scheduled appointment. I can check the calendar if you give me your name and the company you represent.”

I swallowed.

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Company. Represent.

“I’m Nicholas Valemont,” I said. “He knows me.”

She typed something in, waited, then frowned slightly.

“Have you had a meeting with him before?” she pressed.

“No. But… he knows me.”

She gave me a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I understand. Unfortunately, Mr. Kensington’s schedule is quite full today. I can take your contact information in case something opens up before he returns to Verdania, or, if you prefer, I can offer a videoconference at another time.”

“I need to speak with him today,” I insisted, my voice steady but firm. “It’ll be quick.”

“That won’t be possible, sir,” she replied, and now the sir sounded a little sharper.

“Tell him it’s Nicholas,” I insisted. “Nicholas Valemont. He knows who I am.”

She took a breath, clearly running out of patience.

“Mr. Valemont, if you’d like, I can provide the contact information for the department responsible for scheduling. But I will need you to…”

She paused, choosing the most polite words she could.

“…step away from the reception area if you do not have a scheduled appointment.”

The floor seemed to rise an inch under my feet. It wasn’t like I’d expected a red carpet, but being treated like someone in the way was… uncomfortable.

I nodded without arguing.

“Right. Okay.”

I turned and started walking toward the exit, feeling the weight of that place pressing down on my back. I had no right to be irritated. The rules were the same for everyone. Still, the sense of not belonging kept pounding in my head.

That was when I heard my name.

“Nick?”

I turned.

Dante was standing near the seating area, a folder tucked under his arm and his sunglasses pushed up on his head.

“Dante, I greeted, surprised. “I…”

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“Here to see Gwen?” he asked, walking closer with a smile.

“No,” I answered too quickly. “I mean, she doesn’t know I’m here. I… came to see Christian. But it looks like he doesn’t have an opening.”

I tried to keep my tone neutral, but the frustration must have slipped through.

Dante glanced at the receptionist, then back at me, and started laughing.

“Oh my God,” he said. “You tried coming in through reception.”

“How else was I supposed to get in? Through the roof?” I shot back, without humor.

He was still laughing, but not in a mean way.

“No. But next time, call me,” he said. “You’re family, Nick. Family doesn’t ask to be squeezed in. Family creates the opening.”

The receptionist, who had been pretending not to hear, looked away, embarrassed.

“Mr. Dante…” she murmured, her tone a mix of warning and preemptive apology.

He leaned casually against the counter, that effortless charm already switched on.

“Giulia, this isn’t your fault,” he said, reading her name tag. “You’re doing your job perfectly. The problem is that no one told my almost cousin here that Christian is harder to get a meeting with than the Pope.”

She fought back a smile.

“You know what Mr. Kensington’s schedule is like today…” she began.

“I do,” Dante cut in. “I also know he’ll find five minutes to see the man who’s dating his sister, or I will personally walk into that office and drag him out by his tie.”

He turned to me.

“Come on.”

Before I could argue, he was already guiding me gently by the arm toward the private elevators.

“I really don’t want to be a bother…” I started.

“You won’t,” he said, cutting me off.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. He tapped his badge against the reader, and the panel lit up with floors I didn’t even know existed.

We stepped inside.

For a few seconds, the only sound was the quiet hum of the elevator rising.

“Can I ask what you want with Christian?” Dante broke the silence, adjusting his tie like he was posing for

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a storefront display.

I took a deep breath.

“I just…” I searched for the words. “Now that I know who Gwen really is… who all of you are… I don’t want to sit around waiting for the world to come crashing down on me, I want the estate to be a business that can stand on its own. Something no one has to be ashamed of Especially her.”

Dante nodded slowly, not laughing this time.

“And you think Christian can help you with that.”

“I think he sees things I don’t,” I replied. “Numbers. Structure. I don’t know, I’m not asking for handouts. I want him to tell me what I’m doing wrong. What I can do better. If, after looking at everything, he says there’s no fixing it… then that’s a different conversation. But I’m not giving up without trying.”

The elevator kept climbing. Dante ran a hand through his hair, thoughtful.

“Okay. I like that,” he said. “Healthy pride. Better than showing up here asking for a blank check. If that were the case, I’d throw you into the river myself.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Comforting.”

The elevator slowed, then stopped with a discreet chime. The doors opened to a much quieter hallway, with wooden doors, framed art on the walls, and thick carpeting like the one in Gwen’s penthouse reception area.

Dante stepped out first. I followed.

Some people greeted Dante by name. Others just gave him a quick, respectful nod. He moved with the ease of someone who had known this floor his whole life.

He stopped in front of a set of double doors, wider than the others.

He turned to me before knocking.

“Listen,” he said, serious for the first time since he’d found me in the lobby. “In there, he’s not just Christian. He’s Christian Kensington, CEO. Cold. Logical. Inevitably irritating.”

“Sounds… encouraging,” I murmured,

Dante ignored me.

“He’s going to talk numbers. He’ll be tough. He might make you feel like you’re presenting a science fair project to a doctoral review board,” he continued. “Don’t take it personally. That’s how he handles business. We’ll take care of you in other ways later.”

I nodded, trying to ignore how heavy my hands suddenly felt.

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*And Nick..” he added, his hand already raised to knock.

“Yes?”

Dante gave me a sideways smile.

“For some completely irrational reason, my cousin chose you. Remember that when he starts making spreadsheet face. It’s good for your self-esteem.”

I laughed, nervous.

He knocked twice and, without waiting for a response, cracked the door open and peeked inside.

“Christian?” he called casually. “I brought you an interesting problem today.”

I glanced inside the office for only a second before Dante gave me a light push forward.

And then I was inside.

日

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