The Billionaire's Second Chance

Present Day- Arianne

I'm getting married to Michael Kings.

The boy who broke my heart.

The man who has ruined my life.

Last week, Mama decided that I need a job to appear as a responsible girl. Since the press will soon start flooding the house upon my recent re-arrival, I have to be ready. Since the week she freed me, I've been forced to undergo all kinds of treatments to make me look like their ideal bride would. My hair has been treated with all sots of things to make it look rich and healthy, not starved for three years.

I get up and shower earlier today because I know it's important. Mama had told me that she would give me a phone with the necessary information for the job- since she applied for it on my behalf.

The interview is by nine am, so by seven thirty, I'm seated in front of the dressing mirror, putting on my accessories.

As I fix my earrings, my mind drifts to Winter. Before I can get sucked into a world of shame and regret, the door to my room is slammed open.

"Are you ready?" Mama's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. My eyes drift to the reflection staring back at me. The witch requested I wear a while shirt and a black pencil skirt for professionalism. By 'requested' I mean it's the only clothing she's given me to wear, since she seized my suitcases.

I don't bother answering her- I've nothing left to say. So I simply nod my head and remember to keep my gaze low.

To anyone else, I don't look bad, with my green eyes staring back at me. But in my eyes, all I see is UGLY yelling at me in twenty seven different languages.

I truly commend my mental strength. Usually, people like me would have the jitters, panic attacks, or, just die, basically, but I didn't feel any of it. It's like I'm simply watching a movie where I'm the main character.

"Get up." She orders, and I obey, slowly pushing the chair back. "Turn around, I want to see all of you." I give her a small, slow twirl, and she sighs heavily in disappointment.

"It will have to be good enough for Adams Inc." She hands me a black designer bag. "Hold this. It has a phone, makeup and all the things a lady would need." She takes a step forward and grips my jaw, hard.

"Look here, Alexa. You will get this job. You will be the perfect wife. You will be of good behavior." The sad thing is, I don't feel the pain she's inflicting. "And don't even think about running away." I can feel her spray spit on my face. "In fact...that's where my next gift comes in handy." She pulls out a silver necklace from the bag I'm holding, then hands it over to me. "Put it on." I obey, moving my hair around to get the necklace on. It is more like a choker, because it has a butterfly in the middle that stops at the center of my neck. "This has a camera and audio device. If you even think about telling anyone what has happened, I'll just press a little button I have in my room, and bye bye Arianne."

I know she is lying, though. If she kills me, the money she's working so hard to get would be gone. All her effort, the people she's killed. Will all be a waste. Yet I decide to humor her, to pretend like I wasn't able to escape.

"Got it?" She asks me, and I nod my head. "Perfect. Now, you'll get breakfast when you get the job, so, run along. The driver is waiting for you downstairs."

I rush down the stairs and out the door to meet Ethan, the driver. I don't say anything as he opens the car's door for me. We simply drive to the place without a word, and when we get there, he rushes to open the door again.

By 8:45, I'm standing at the doors of the most massive company I've seen in all of my life. It's made of glass, and I can see hundreds of employees rushing around to get things done. I take a deep breath of air.

This is my life now.

I walk through the automatic doors, up to the receptionist who's smiling at me. "Hi! Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh, yes." I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I pull out the phone Mama gave me with the information sent as a text. My eyes scan over the text and I look back up at her. "I'm Arianne Queen, here to apply for the P.A position."

"Oh!" She gets up, leading me to an elevator a few feet away from her table. She's blonde, I notice. And we're wearing the same outfit, except she's wearing silver heels while I'm wearing black. "He's on floor seven" I get inside and she pushes a button. Before the elevator can close, she steps forward, telling me in a hushed voice. "I will tell you though, Mr. Adams is a very short tempered man. If you don't get the job, don't take it personal. He's had like fifty seven applicants turned down already."

I don't know what to say, so I nod my head. She moved back, letting the elevator close. I turned around, gazing at the world as the elevator took me higher. A soft chime came before the doors opened, telling me that the ride was over.

I walk into a a corridor, with another smiling receptionist. I walk up to her, and tell her I'm here for the job, and she leads me into a huge room. It's practically empty, almost bare. But there is a mahogany table further into it with papers scattered across it, and two swivel chairs. A trash can filled with empty cups of coffee, too.

"Mr Adams will be with you soon." She says to me after I sit down on the seat in front of the desk. I hear the door close after she walks away. A few minutes later, I hear the door open again.

This time, I know it isn't the receptionist. The smell of Axe and peppermint fills my senses, and it reminds me of home.

My home, with Winter.

My gaze is low, and I stare at my feet, listening as he makes his way to the table and settles down.

"And you are...?" He picks up a file with my name on it, and pauses. There is nothing but silence for a while. If not for the soft ticking of a watch I see is his, I would believe I'd gone deaf. Then he whispers the last part out with a shaky voice. "Arianne Queen."

I know that voice. I could recognize it even from the murky depths of hell. For the first time in three years, I look up to meet his gaze.

My breath catches in my throat. It can't be him. I've got to be hallucinating.

But I'm not.

Staring back at me, are the gray orbs that I missed more than anything in the world.

"Winter." I can't even hear myself say it. We're staring at each other, neither of us wanting to be the culprit of ending the moment. His eyes show confusion, but most of all, they show hurt. I want to go over and hug him, tell him that everything is going to be fine. But in the end, I can't. There are forces that stood talk between us, and I don't want him getting hurt because of me.

What is he doing here?

Slowly, the gears in my brain start turning, and my brain finally connects the dots.

Adams Inc! Damon Adams! This is the company his father used to run that Winter always complained about!

I look beside his head, and a few seconds later his eyes turn cold. "So what position are you here for? I think it's safe to assume you didn't come here for a friendly chat."

"I'm here for the Personal Assistant position" I say quietly, fidgeting in my seat. He nods.

"Well, to be my personal assistant, I have to be able to trust you." He starts, standing up from his seat. I exhale shakily because I know I deserve what he's doing. "You have to be reliable." He walks out from behind his table, adjusting his suit, and my eyes follow him and take opportunity to drink him in.

It's weird seeing him in formal attire. He has a black suit on, a white dress shirt and black trousers. I can tell his shoes are expensive from the way they reflect the light. He moves behind the seat I'm on, and places his hands on the back. My heart pounds as he leans in to whisper in my ear.

"I have to know that if I'm sleeping, you're not going to pack a bag and run away."

I can feel the hairs on my neck stand. His lips brush my ear so subtly, it's almost like it didn't happen. But with the way my body is heating up, I know I'm not imagining it.

Winter.

My breathing is coming out in pants. The tension in the air is so thick I can almost taste it.

"Tell me, Miss Queen" he moves back, returning to the chair behind his table. "Where are you from?"

"I'm originally from England."

"Mhm." He nods his head a few times, thinking. "Okay, this interview is over." I get up, thinking he's rejecting me. Then he stretches out his hand for a shake. My fingers fit into his, as he smiles at me. "Welcome to Adam's Inc, Miss Queen." He says.

***

Three hours later, I'm on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

There's a huge commotion down stairs, and I can hear Mama screaming her lungs out, ordering the maids around. She hasn't called for me so I can't come out, but I wonder what it is.

My mind travels back to Winter. He'd looked so different with a scowl etched on his face, instead of the sunny smile I'm used to. But the question comes up...Why is he working at his father's company instead of doing what he loves?

Adams Inc. is into the hospitality business, with hotels scattered across the globe. So why?

I decide that I have to find a way to communicate with him, tell him everything that has happened. I can't torture him by not giving him the closure he deserves. I nod my head to myself, satisfied that I have a plan to hold on to. I get up from the bed to look around the room.

Something feels... off.

The drawers are neatly put, the bed is still made. But something is off about the room. Like it was rearranged. Like someone had searched through it. I didn't have any clothes except the ones Mama gave me, and I had nothing else but toiletries.

So who would come here?

I sit on the mattress, and I hear the crumpling of paper. My eyebrows furrow. Before I can kneel down to look at it, the door is flung open.

In a few seconds, I'm staring back at the eyes that haunt my dreams.

Michael.

Then the memories start flooding in.

5 years ago -Arianne

3 years. For 3 years, I've been hopelessly in love with Michael Kings. Funny how his last name is Kings and mine is Queen. I think it's fate.

His shaggy brown hair sweeps over his forehead as he types with all concentration, paying me no attention as I longingly stare at him from the other side of the Grey-painted room. I love him. I love him way too much. Giddy and excited at how he didn't kick me out with insults, I bounce softly on the brown couch, humming to myself and reading my Spanish novel to myself. People who see me from afar might think I'm a prissy pink princess, who shops all day, but I'm not. Absolutely not, but mama seems to like when I play with her, so I pretend to be like that. I say play, because in all honesty, that's what it is.

Michael King, my one and only. I've always hoped one day that a Prince Charming would sweep me off my feet, and that it would be Michael. However, he obviously has different plans. From the day I showed up in this house, 5 years ago, all Michael has lived for is to show me how much he hate me. I used to think, no, dream, that maybe all his hurtful pranks were a way to get my attention, make me fall for him, and I still hope that I'm right.

I get bored, and leave the study, dropping the book on the couch. Bidding Michael a soft goodbye, I walk into the kitchen in my long purple dress, my hair packed tightly into its signature bun, and my fake smile plastered perfectly on my face.

No room for imperfection.

"Good morning." I greet to no one in particular, and they all stop, flash me tired smiles and and sing out a chorus of 'good mornings'.

Today is a big day; my Sweet Sixteen. It's my introduction to the world as a woman, no longer a girl. My gown is prepared, spa day is booked, and the decorations are already set. All I need to do is pretend to be okay. No biggie, that's never been a problem.

I smile at no one in particular and leave he kitchen, noticing the bead of sweat already forming on my forehead. I rush out, bumping into Richard, one of Matthew's friends.

"Hey Richie" I greet him, holding his hand for support, and I feel him shiver. "Are you cold?" I asked not paying attention to the tinge of pink on his cheeks.

"Uh..yeah...cold, that's definitely it." He stammers, and I take in his features. He has auburn hair that stops just on his shoulders, and his cute dimples show as he smiles. "How are you, finally the big 16?"

"Not yet, it's by 8 pm unfortunately." I smile, "I'm just trying to enjoy my time being a kid."

"You sure don't look like a kid" He murmurs under his breath.

"Pardon?" I ask, pretending not to hear him.

"I said, let's get some ice-cream kid" He beams, fibbing obviously, but who am I to deny ice-cream?

"Sure, but I have to be back by 3 pm for preparations, the party starts at 5" I tell him, as he leads me out of the house, and to his car.

"Sure."

He puts his hand at on my lower back and softly nudges me into the passenger's seat of the car, shutting the door and running to the driver's seat. He starts the car, simultaneously strapping on his seat belt. He smiles at me through the mirror, and we exit the estate.

When we finally get there, he rushes to open the door for me.

How gentlemanly.

I smile as I take the hand he offers me, and step out of the car and he closes the door. The beach is a breath of fresh air- literally. It brings me closer to my grandma, since I'm told that she loved the beach so much. Mama said that she had long brown hair, and she would run on the sand barefoot with grandpa. When they died a couple years ago, I was heart-broken, but Mama has been able to give me peace. I grew up thinking I didn't deserve happiness, but Mama always tries to give me everything I want.

Everything she wants me to want.

Richard and I walked hand-in-hand, to a little ice-cream shop at the entrance of the deserted beach. He got me my favorite flavor, vanilla. I loved vanilla because of its complexity. People say it's simple, but that's it. Simplicity is the complexity. Smiling, we found a spot, and sat down at on the floor, watching the waves.

"How does it feel turning into a woman?" He asked me, making me turn to meet his eyes. His green eyes, however at the time my feelings for Michael were still complex, so I didn't let myself get sucked into them.

"Tiring." I breathed.

"It's tiring?" He echoed, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "What's so tiring about it?"

"The pressure." He stayed silent, asking me to elaborate. "The pink dresses, the parties, batting of eyelashes, perfect hair, perfect everything. It just isn't for me."

"I thought you liked those things."

"I don't."

"Then why pretend?" I stayed silent. "Why not be true to you-"

"Because Richie!" I raised my voice. "I grew up a certain way, like a dog. Trained in the exact manner. Disobedience led to-" I paused, then spat out the last word

"Consequences"

"What Consequences?" He echoed, his green eyes darkening a bit.

"Never mind Richie" I said, putting on my signature smile. The fake one. "The past is the past"

"I'm leaving." He suddenly blurted, the winced, breaking then reconnecting the eye-contact.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"I'm leaving for Canada, tonight."

"What?" I whispered. "Why?"

"I'm training to become a model, Arianne." He whispered softly.

"Oh" I said, and there was a pregnant pause. "Would it be crazy if I said I wanted to come?" I whispered back, gazing deeply at him.

"Careful with your words, I might just take you up on that offer." He smiled softly. "I know you're in love with Michael."

"Yeah." I said. "I guess."

"You guess?"

"Mother is planning to announce an engagement for the both of us." I noticed the way his jaw clenched, but felt it was in a brotherly manner.

"Well good for-"

"I'm not sure how I feel anymore." I said, and there was another pause, then he put two fingers under my chin, drawing me closer, making my heart rate speed up.

"I take it you're still single for the next hour or so." He murmured, leaning towards me.

"Yea-h" I stammered breathlessly.

"Good." He said and crashed his soft lips on mine, causing my toes to curl in pleasure. "Arianne" He groaned, and shuddered against my touch, and I bit my lip, holding a smile at the effect I had on him. When we finally pulled away, the sun was getting ready to set, but the guilt already had.

"What-What was that?" I asked, breathlessly.

"Uh..." He scratched his neck. "It was a kiss?"

"Why did you-" I was cut off by a shrill sound of a phone.

"Alarm." He said shyly. "Sorry." He took out his phone from his pocket, and switched it off

"Well" He started, "You're officially unofficially un-single."

I frowned, then remembered that it was for the boy I'd loved for years, Michael and smiled softly.

"Thanks for, um, that." I said, blushing. My lips were practically throbbing and his were no better. We walked back to the car, and he opened and shut the door for me after I got in.

When he got in and started driving, I spoke first.

"Why did you, uh, kiss me?" I asked him, looking at him.

"I wanted to show you how you're supposed to be treated." Huhn? "If it doesn't feel like that or better than that then maybe you're with the wrong person" He said, glancing at me, like his words had a double meaning.

Like anything could top that.

"Think of me as your best friend." He said, focusing on the road. I bit my lip hard. How in the world was I supposed to think of him as a friend? If that's what he wants though, friends we would be.

Smiling back at him in the rear view mirror, I made up my mind to be the greatest friend I could be, no matter how much the rejection hurt. My first rejection.

3 Years Ago. -Michael

Tired. That's what I was right then. Tired.

After that day, people glare at me wherever I go in the estate, and less girls hook-up with me now, almost non-existent. I'm now known as the guy who broke sweet little Arianne's heart. How is it my fault?! She was a gold-digger, so how as I supposed to react? I may have been a bit harsh, but in the end it was worth it. She left. Mom has refused to speak to me since then. The only form of communication we still have, are the disappointed glares she gives me every now and then, when she can even manage to look at me. The last words she told me were,

"When you find her and she forgives you, I will speak to you"

What was I supposed to do? It had been almost three years since she ran away, and she still haunts me in my head. Last time I heard, she had run away with Rich, but they weren't on good terms anymore. Wasn't that enough to show Mom that I'm not the problem?

I bet she grew up as a pampered little princess, with everything at her back and call. Servants to make her sandwiches, and maids to tie her shoe-laces. I only had 5 helpers. 5!

She was always so nice to the help, almost never using them, trying to be a better person than me. Witch.

Now, I was walking on the streets of Canada, trying not to attract attention, and get to Richard's apartment quietly, and hopefully I wouldn't run into her.

I finally saw the building, but I heard some weird sounds at in the spot beside it. It was already night outside, and my grip was already on the gun in my waist-band.

"Let go of me you insufferable brute!" A sweet voice yelled from that direction. I slowly walked to the dark alley, where a shady looking man was holding a woman. As I was about to take action, she did.

"Tried to warn you." With a swift jab to his shin, the man stumbled back, and she twisted his arm around, forcing him onto the floor, then she started repeatedly punching him in the face. "I tried to be nice man," She chuckled, almost psychotically. "You even made me drop my lip-balm." She groaned, which made me chuckle softly.

Next thing I know, a whizzing noise is heard, and a dagger is dented into the small tree beside me.

When she turned around, she smiled, recognizing me, but I didn't recognize her. Till the light shone properly on her face. The blue orbs that have haunted me to his day. Arianne Queen.

"Arianne..." I whispered softly, expecting her to smile, or give me a hug, or something like her usual bubbly self. Instead, she groaned.

"Ugh, it's you." She said and got up.

"Arianne?" I asked, confused. The Arianne I knew would have run up to hug me, blabbering about her new dress, or something.

"It's Alexa now" She looked at me, bored. Bored?

"Why?" I asked daringly.

"You'll find out." She said, about to turn around when a curly haired guy ran up to her, waving bags in the air.

"Babe!" He yelled. Her stoic face immediately lit up as she turned to let him hug and lift her.

"You just saw me 20 minutes ago!" She laughed, and it was music to my ears. Wait...what?

"Longest 20 minutes ever!" The guy pouted like a kid.

"Did you get the burgers?" She asked him, as she started walking off, without introducing me. Rude much? I knew she was spoilt.

"Hey!" I called after her. "You didn't introduce me." I stuck out my hand for the guy to shake.

"Who is this babe?" He asked in her ear.

I smirked inwardly, knowing she must have talked his ear off, about me, on how she loves me, and the guy probably has insecurities.

"Just some jack-ass from my past." She said nonchalantly.

What?! "Excuse me?" I said, then turned to the guy. "I'm Michael, you probably know me."

"No, actually."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"She was hopelessly in love with me." I smirked in triumph, when I saw her turn red. Little did, I know, the red was a warning sign. "She wanted to marry me." Shut up dude! "And have my children."

She was shaking, and the guy was slowly backing away. What could little miss perfect do? Call the fashion police?

"Ari" He whispered. "Breathe. Killing him here will leave you with witnesses." The guy said, glancing at the man passed out on the ground, and a few passer-byes.

"You're right." She beamed, making me scoff. What could she do?

That kids, is why my jaw is permanently dented on the right side. The plastic- surgeons said it was a lost cause.

My mouth was bleeding, and my jaw hurt, way too much. The taste of copper filled my senses, and the last thing I remember, is her whispering to me.

Game on, Michael.

I don't even remember how the heck I got home, well, Richard's house, but I woke up to something cold against my cheek. Ice. Richard was on the other side of the couch, watching some fashion show on the T.V, and I groaned. Richard immediately got up and handed me a bottle of beer from the mini fridge beside him.

"Oh God, thank God your okay man," He said. "The receptionist called that there was a bleeding man on my floor.

Richard was pretty well of, so while many people only had one apartment, Richard had the whole floor to himself. I guess modeling really did him good.

"Yeah." I said, wincing at how painful it was to talk. Grabbing the beer, I opened it and took a swig.

"Arianne?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

My mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. How did he know? Why wasn't Arianne here anyway? "How'd you know" I asked him.

"She's the only one that packs a punch like that." He said, chuckling softly. "God, I miss her." He sighed, running his palm over his face.

"She doesn't live with me anymore?" I asked, secretly hoping to see her again.

"Nah." he said, frowning slightly, so that his eyebrows were furrowed.

"Why?" I asked. He visibly tensed at the question, before he broke the silence with his answer.

"I messed up man." He said softly. "I called her some...names." He grunted.

"Names?" I scoffed, shaking my head at his ridiculous statement. "It's Arianne" I said, smiling at my stupid friend. "All you have to do is smile and she'll forgive you in a heartbeat.

"I wish" He scoffed. "I hired a helicopter to make out the words 'I'm sorry Arianne' in the air, but she didn't budge."

"Arianne?" I asked. "Arianne Queen?"

"She goes by Alexa Queen now" he said, still frowning. "It's literally been 2 years man, who holds a grudge for that long?"

"I'm sure she's forgiven you." I said, still not believing him. "Are you going for the dance show tomorrow?"

"Yeah." I spoke. "You going?"

"Yeah."

"Who's dancing, by the way?"

"You don't know?" His eyes widened in shock. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

The next morning, more like afternoon, I had woken up by 2 in the afternoon. Getting punched really tires a guy. When I checked my phone, I had 4 messages from my mother, 2 from my 'girlfriend' and 3 from my P.A.

MOM

Have you found her?

Has she found you?

Does she have a boyfriend?

Is she coming home?

Wow, not even a 'did you land safely?' or 'are you home?'. I guess that's what you get for making her favorite child away from her.

From when I met Arianne, I knew she was nothing but trouble. I was ten, and she was eight. I know it's not a reasonable time for me to have started hating her, but I did. Mom started caring for her, and she stopped doing my homework. It sounds vain, I know, but it is what it is. She would spend thousands of dollars on Arianne and teach her like a princess. Less than a year after she came, Arianne already had the estate wrapped around her tiny little finger, over and over again. She would spend hours in her room, claiming she was studying, but I was sure she was plotting against us, planning to steal our money. Yeah, she was eight, but evil is not determined by age

My hatred for her grew past the constant glares, and occasional shoves and insults. I hated her, with all of me.

I poisoned her food, one time, yet it still wasn't enough for me. I wanted her dead. One time, I told her to meet me at the pool, and the foolish girl came in, with a one-piece swimsuit and a towel. I swiftly tied her legs, while Joshua gagged her, and we pushed her into the pool. Unfortunately for us, she had survival instincts and swam like a mermaid, managing to free herself. She never told Mom though, the servants did, and mom nearly killed me. I had to apologize to her. I mean, that was enough to give me a stroke.

Shaking my head to rid all thoughts, I noticed that the glass of water I had was gone, then I saw the water on the couch, and my throbbing hand. I guess a part of me still hates that privileged whore.

I finally took a path and had breakfast, wearing only a dark blue top and black jeans. Soon enough, it was 6'oclock in the evening, and time for the dance show. Rich said he'd meet me there, so I called me driver, and soon enough, we were off. I was so eager to see this dance group because of the things I'd heard about them. Their net worth was 128 million dollars, and in less than 2 years. I never actually watched any of them, I didn't want to ruin it for myself, without experiencing it in the flesh.

When we pulled up at the theatre, I gave Paul a 50 dollar just for the heck of it. Immediately I entered the theater, bracing myself for the noise, instead I was met with silence. A second later, a spotlight was formed. The group's movement was completely synchronized, form the beginning to the end, but one thing that gave me the shock of my life was when someone did 5 back-flips, non-stop, then turned. Her brown hair was matted to her forehead as it glistened with sweat, and her hips moved swiftly. The group was 'frozen' behind her, then a guy came to the front, and they danced together, like it was air for them. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his neck, before falling back, and letting her long hair, sweep the floor. After a few twirls, she abruptly sat up, till she was straddling his neck, and she stood on his shoulders then fell back. The crowd gasped, even I did, hoping she wasn't hurt, but at the last second her legs hooked his neck. Then the song ended, and the whole place went pitch black.