Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 634

Chapter 634

Renee’s POV

It was Wednesday when I went back to Florentia.

I’d been trying to reach Nick ever since I found out the truth. Ever since that idiot receptionist at Kensington confirmed that Christian was Christian Kensington, CEO of the wine company. Ever since every piece had clicked into place in my head like a grotesque, satisfying puzzle.

Gwen Kensington.

The “broke marketing consultant” was actually the heiress to a damn empire.

On Saturday, I drove all the way to the estate. Two hours just to find out Nick wasn’t there. Martina answered the door with the kind of expression that said she would rather be anywhere else.

“He went to Florentia,” she said flatly.

“Florentia?” I repeated, already knowing exactly where he was. Holed up in that obscene apartment with

that liar.

“Yes. He’ll be back Monday morning.”

I tried to leave a message. Martina shut the door in my face before I could finish my sentence.

I spent the next few days trying to get in touch. Messages that never went through. Blocked. Calls that went straight to voicemail. I got a new SIM card, a new number, and when he finally answered, he recognized my voice within a second and hung up. After the third attempt, he stopped answering entirely.

Fine.

Actually, it was better that way.

Because I hadn’t thought it through before. I’d been acting on impulse, on anger, just wanting to throw

the truth in his face and watch the chaos unfold.

But during those days, alone in the cramped little room at my aunt’s house, something clicked. This information wasn’t just a bomb.

It was ammunition.

And ammunition should be used strategically.

That’s why I’d been camped out on one of the couches in Kensington’s reception area since nine that morning.

Almost four hours sitting there.

The receptionist Julia had politely informed me that I needed a scheduled appointment to speak with Miss Kensington.”

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“That’s fine,” I’d replied with my sweetest fake smile. “I’ll wait here until she comes out.”

Julia had frowned slightly.

“Miss, Miss Kensington’s schedule is quite full today. I’m not sure she’ll have availability to-”

“I said,” I repeated, settling more comfortably into the absurdly expensive Italian leather couch, “that I’ll

wait.”

She studied me for a few seconds, clearly deciding whether to call security or just ignore me.

She chose to ignore me.

Perfect.

So I stayed there. Checking my phone obsessively. Watching the steady flow of impeccably dressed people coming and going. Executives speaking English, Valentian, Maravinese. Assistants carrying leather folders. Deliveries arriving from suppliers whose names I’d never even heard before.

Everyone in that building radiated money. Power. Influence.

Around ten-thirty, a young assistant approached offering coffee.

“Are you waiting for someone?” she asked politely.

“I am,” I confirmed, accepting the delicate porcelain cup.

The coffee was exceptional. Of course it was.

I drank it slowly, savoring every sip while I watched that world operate around me.

And Nick thought he was dating a marketing consultant.

I almost laughed out loud at the absolute irony.

At eleven, Julia tried again.

“Miss, if you tell me the subject, I can try to arrange a call with Miss Kensington later today or-”

“No,” I cut in gently. “It needs to be in person. I’ll wait.”

She sighed almost imperceptibly and returned to her desk.

I kept waiting.

Watching. Planning exactly what I would say. How I would say it. What expression I would use to make the biggest impact.

It was almost one in the afternoon when I finally saw her.

She stepped out of the executive elevator, accompanied by that cousin. Mia, if I remembered correctly from the disastrous dinner. The two of them were speaking quietly about something, Gwen gesturing

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lightly while Mia laughed at whatever she’d said.

Gwen looked unrecognizable.

No.

She looked recognizable.

That was the problem.

This was the real Gwen.

A charcoal gray tailored suit, cut to perfection. Probably custom-made. Louboutin heels I recognized instantly from the red soles. Her hair pulled back into an elegant, effortless bun. Subtle makeup, but flawless. Pearl earrings that probably cost a kidney.

None of that “simple girl” façade she wore at the estate.

None of the casual clothes and easy smiles.

This was Gwen Kensington. CO0. Heiress. Part of a generational empire.

I stood quickly, positioning myself directly in their path before they reached the revolving doors.

“Gwen!” I called out, my voice echoing through the marble hall.

Loud enough that she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t heard me.

She stopped. Turned her head. Saw me.

Her expression shifted from genuine surprise to controlled irritation in less than two seconds. Impressive, really. The corporate mask sliding into place instantly.

A security guard immediately started toward us with firm steps. But Gwen lifted her hand. A small, elegant gesture. He hesitated, then stepped back. Still watching. Still ready.

Mia looked from me to Gwen, clearly confused and slightly alarmed.

I smiled. Sweet. Poisonous.

“So….” I began, letting my gaze drift deliberately around the luxurious lobby, the high ceilings, the marble columns, the expensive artwork on the walls. “Fake diamonds, huh?”

I paused, calculated.

“What happened? Did your family spend all the money decorating this place?”

Gwen rolled her eyes almost imperceptibly.

“What do you want, Renee?” she asked, her voice tired. Bored.

“To talk,” I said simply. “Alone.”

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“That’s not going to happen,” she replied, already turning toward the exit. “I’m heading to lunch.”

“Perfect,” I shot back quickly, stepping forward to follow. “I’ll join you. Your treat, obviously.”

“That wasn’t an invitation,” Gwen said flatly, not slowing down.

I stopped walking. Let my voice rise. Clear. Projected.

“Gwen, you’re going to want to hear this,” I said, choosing every word carefully. “I know a lot more about you than you’d like people to know.”

I paused. Let the silence stretch.

“Or rather… than you’d like Nick to know.”

That made her stop completely. She turned slowly, like a predator assessing a threat.

Mia also stopped, shifting slightly in front of Gwen.

Gwen took one deliberate step toward me. Her eyes darkened in a way that almost looked dangerous.

“Are you threatening me?” she asked, her voice low, edged with something that felt very real.

I tilted my head, pretending to consider the question.

“No,” I said. Then reconsidered for half a second. “Not yet.” I gave a small shrug. “After all, I don’t think you’d want Nick to know who you really are, would you? Gwen Kensington… COO of Kensington Valentia.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Calculation. Assessment.

Then she huffed, almost amused, and turned her back on me, walking toward the exit again with steady

steps.

“Nick knows exactly who I am,” she said over her shoulder as Mia hurried to keep up. “We don’t have secrets.”

I blinked, genuinely surprised for a second.

He knew? Nick knew she was a Kensington and was still with her?

Interesting. Unexpected.

I smiled slowly.

There was still one thing he definitely didn’t know.

I let them get almost to the revolving door.

Counted in my head. Three. Two. One.

Then I played my final card.

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