Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 687

Chapter 687

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Chapter 687

Gwen’s POV

The way Dante said it told me exactly how serious this was. It wasn’t gossip. It wasn’t a hallway rumor. It was something that demanded eyes on it. Context. Something we’d have to face head-on.

Nick nodded once. Sharp. I saw his shoulders tighten like he was bracing for impact. Bella stayed in the backseat a second longer, still buckled in, looking from Dante to us like she was trying to figure out why adults always wore that same worried expression.

“Come on, princess,” Dante said gently, gesturing without rushing her. “It’ll be quick.”

Bella climbed out slowly, stepping onto the gravel with too much care for a child her age. I felt the urge

to take her hand.

I didn’t.

Dante led us along the side of the main house. The path was short, but here at the estate, everything echoed. Every door. Every corridor. Every corner still held that recent silence. The kind that reminded you how much worse things could’ve been.

We stepped into one of the small support rooms. It used to host quick meetings and production spreadsheets. Now there was a computer on, a chair pulled out, and the unmistakable feeling that this room had become evidence.

Dante closed the door behind us and pointed to the screen.

“Our investigators managed to recover footage from a street camera near the estate’s entrance.”

Nick frowned.

“From the street? Does that camera even catch anything?”

“Barely,” Dante replied. I could hear the professional irritation beneath his calm tone. “It was dark. Terrible quality. And the guy… well, he was disguised. Hood. Cap. High collar. The basics if you want to look like a shadow.”

He clicked into a folder and opened a video. The image was distant and grainy. The kind of footage that ends up on the news later. A slice of reality that doesn’t help anyone until someone refuses to give up on

“They enhanced it,” Dante explained. “Frame by frame. Contrast. Brightness. Detail recovery. It’s not CSI, but with time and patience…”

He pressed play.

A figure appeared near the gate. Quick movements. Purposeful. Not the walk of someone lost. The walk of someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

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Dante paused at a specific frame and zoomed in.

“Here.”

The face didn’t turn crystal clear. It wasn’t sharp.

But it was enough.

A fragment of features. A second where a shadow became a person.

“They identified him as Donald Fletcher,” Dante said.

Nick frowned harder, disbelief written all over him.

“How? You can barely see his face.”

Dante nodded, already anticipating that.

“It wasn’t just that. A car stopped near the gate minutes before. The plate showed up partially. The investigators cross-checked it with toll records and other highway cameras. It led to a vehicle registered to Fletcher. The enhanced image… just confirmed it wasn’t a coincidence.”

Dante looked directly at Nick.

“Donald Fletcher,” he repeated. “Does that name mean anything to you?”

Nick nodded slowly. A heavy yes.

“Fletcher Estate. Competitor.” He said it like a technical fact, but I heard the frustration underneath. “We know each other. It’s always been cordial. Events, trade fairs… we’ve never had a problem.”

Dante let out a short breath through his nose. No smile.

“Things change when you start to prosper.”

Nick’s jaw tightened.

“God… this isn’t the kind of thing we do around here.”

“It’s the kind of thing people do everywhere,” Dante replied. No drama. Just reality.

I kept staring at the screen, and something in my mind tugged on a loose thread. Fletcher wasn’t new. I had seen that last name… somewhere.

“Wait,” I said, already reaching for my phone. “Fletcher… why does that sound familiar?”

Nick looked at me quickly, searching for something that might soften the blow. Dante did the same.

I opened one folder. Then another. A list I kept for a reason. I didn’t trust memory when it came to money, contracts, and risk.

I typed Fletcher.

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The result came up almost instantly. Clean. Objective. Ruthless.

My stomach dropped.

“It’s here,” I said, turning the screen toward them. “It’s part of the debt package.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed.

“The debt package you bought from the bank?” he asked, like the answer was already forming in his head.

“Exactly,” I confirmed. “Fletcher Estate is listed.”

Dante rested his fingers on the table, thinking. When he spoke again, his voice carried a different weight.

“Then he had more than one motive.” He looked at Nick, then at me. “Take Nick down commercially… and get back at Kensington.”

I swallowed.

“If he found out about our association,” I said, “that explains the move. The timing. The cruelty.”

Dante nodded, shifting back into practical mode.

“Good. I’ll pass this to the police and attach the enhanced footage. That’ll keep them on the right track.”

Nick nodded too.

But it wasn’t a full nod. It was automatic. Like he was accepting the solution without feeling any relief.

Dante stepped away, phone already in hand, speaking quietly to someone. I used the distance and

touched Nick’s arm.

“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.

He tried to give me his usual nothing. That let’s be grateful for what we have. But his eyes gave him

away,

“Nothing,” he said first. Then he exhaled and let the rest fall out, almost like surrender. “It’s good they found someone responsible.”

I didn’t let it go.

“Nick.”

He looked down at the gravel for a second, like it might answer him.

“Why don’t you seem even a little happy about that?” I pressed.

He took a second longer than he should have.

“Because apparently that someone isn’t Renee,” he murmured. “That’s one less thing we have against her

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Chapter 687

while she keeps stacking things against us.”

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