The Billionaire's Second Chance..

Ivy's POV

"Are you kidding me right now, Nathan?"

My voice trembled, sharp and unyielding, slicing through the room like a knife. Gasps echoed among the crowd, and all the chatter and laughter ceased as if someone had flipped a switch.

Tonight was supposed to be perfect. My birthday. My moment. The room was alive with golden lights, laughter, and music that vibrated with happiness. I had spent weeks planning every detail, but now, the celebration felt like a mockery.

Nathan Harper, my boyfriend of three years, stood in the center of the room on one knee, holding a ring box in his hand. He wasn't facing me, though.

He was facing her.

Sarah. My best friend-no, my ex-best friend-stood there, her expression caught between shock and self satisfied glee. She covered her mouth with her hands like a damsel in distress, pretending as though she had no idea this was coming.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said again, louder this time, my voice ringing with disbelief.

Nathan glanced over his shoulder, his expression mix of guilt and defensiveness. "Ivy, please," he said, his tone so calm that it made my blood boil.

"Please?" I snapped, taking a step closer. "Please what, Nathan? Please understand why you're proposing to my best friend at my birthday party?" My voice cracked on the last word, but I pushed through. "Make it make sense, Nathan."

"It's not what it looks like," Sarah quickly interrupted, her voice sweet and soothing.

I turned to her, my eyebrows shooting up. "Oh, it's not? Then by all means, Sarah, explain it to me. Did Nathan accidentally fall to his knee in front of you? Did the ring magically appear in his pocket?"

Sarah's cheeks flushed, and she hesitated for a moment before replying. "We didn't mean for it to happen this way."

"Oh, save it," I said with a humorless laugh. "You didn't mean for it to happen this way? When exactly did you plan to tell me? Or were you going to wait until after the honeymoon?"

Nathan stood up then, brushing a hand through his hair. "Ivy, I didn't want you to find out like this."

"Find out? Nathan, you're literally proposing to her in the middle of a party filled with my friends and family. When exactly was I not going to find out?" I pointed a finger at the photographer in the corner. "You hired a photographer, for God's sake. You planned this!"

The room buzzed with murmurs, the guests shifting uncomfortably. One woman near the dessert table whispered, "This is a complete mess."

Sarah stepped forward, her hands raised as if she were the one calming the situation. "Ivy, let's not creating a scene."

"A scene?" I repeated, my voice rising. "Sarah, the scene was made the moment he got down on one his knee. I'm just trying to figure out how you had the guts to show up here, knowing this is my party, and pull this stunt!"

Sarah flinched but quickly recovered. "We didn't want it to happen like this. We were going to tell you. Privately."

"Oh, privately? So, I was supposed to quietly accept your betrayal while you flaunt your shiny new ring?"

Nathan stepped between us, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Alright, that's enough. Ivy, can we please talk about this somewhere else?"

I looked at him, in disbelief. "Somewhere else? Oh no, Nathan. We're doing this right here. You didn't consider privacy when you set up this little show. Don't get shy now."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I noticed the calm facade fade. "You're being unreasonable Ivy."

"Unreasonable? Like seriously?" My laugh was sharp, bitter. "You turned my birthday party into an engagement party for you and my best friend, and I'm being unreasonable? Please, Nathan, tell me how I should be reacting. Should I clap? Should I offer to buy your first baby's crib?"

Sarah stepped forward again, her voice soft and sready. "Ivy, I know you're hurt-"

"Oh, don't," I interrupted, my tone ice cold. "Don't stand there and pretend like you care about my feelings. If you truly did, you wouldn't be standing here in my infront on my friends and family, wearing a ring that my boyfriend bought for you."

Nathan let out a frustrated sigh. "Ivy, you're exaggerating this. It's not like we wanted you to find out this way."

I turned to him, my chest heaving. "Stop saying that! You didn't want me to find out? How long has this been going on, Nathan? How long have you been sneaking around behind my back?"

He looked away, guilt flashing across his face.

"Oh, let me guess," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "It just happened, right? You couldn't help it. Is that the excuse you're going with?"

Sarah's lips trembled as she tried to speak. "It wasn't like that, Ivy. We didn't plan to fall in love."

"Fall in love?" I repeated, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Sarah, you've been my best friend for years. You watched me fall for him. You listened to me talk about him endlessly. And now you're telling me you just couldn't help but fall in love with him?"

Nathan stepped forward, his voice low and firm. "Alright, that's enough. Let's not turn this into a spectacle."

I pushed his hand away when he tried to touch my arm. "Don't you dare touch me, Nathan. You don't get to tell me what's enough. You made this mess; now you're going to deal with it."

"You're being dramatic Ivy," he snapped, his voice rising for the first time.

"Dramatic?" I repeated, my voice breaking. "You cheated on me, Nathan! You lied to me, betrayed me, and now you're standing here telling me I'm being dramatic?!"

"Maybe if you weren't so controlling-"

The words hung in the air like a bomb. The room collectively gasped, and even Sarah looked horrified.

I stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment. Then I laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "Controlling? Oh, that's good, Nathan. I stood by you through everything-your career struggles, your family drama, your insecurities. And this is how you thank me? By calling me controlling?"

He didn't respond, his lips pressing into a thin line.

I turned to Sarah, my hands trembling. "And you. You were supposed to be my friend. You were supposed to have my back. But I guess some things are more important than loyalty, huh?"

"Ivy, I never meant-"

The sting of my slap echoed before she could finish her sentence. Gasps erupted around the room as she stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek.

"You slapped me?" she shouted, her voice rising.

"Damn right I did," I snarled, stepping forward. "You deserve a hell of a lot more than that."

Sarah's eyes narrowed, her calm facade shattering. "You don't get to act like the victim here, Ivy! Maybe if you weren't so busy controlling Nathan's life, he wouldn't have come to me!"

The words were a match to my gasoline-soaked anger. Without thinking, I lunged at her, my hands grabbing for her shoulders.

"Enough!" Nathan roared, pulling me back just as Sarah's nails clawed at my arm.

The room descended into chaos as guests rushed to separate us. "Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing against Nathan's hold.

"You've lost it," Sarah spat, smoothing her dress as two of my cousins held her back. "This is why he left you. You're crazy."

My breath caught at her words, my chest heaving with anger and heartbreak. "You two deserve each other," I said, my voice trembling with fury. "Enjoy your toxic little fairytale."

Wrenching free from Nathan's grip, I grabbed my purse and stormed out, the chatter of shocked guests fading behind me.

The night air hit me like a slap, cold and damp. Rain began to fall as I wandered aimlessly down the empty streets, mascara streaking my cheeks. My heels sank into puddles, but I didn't care.

I just wanted to get as far away as possible. Away from the betrayal, the humiliation, the heartbreak.

Ivy's POV

The rain fell harder, drenching me completely as I wandered aimlessly through the streets without a destination.

All I wanted was to escape. My birthday dress stuck to my skin, ruined by the rain, but I didn't care. At last, I stopped in front of a building alive with music and bright lights. A club. Its lavish golden letters spelled Elysium.

I hesitated. This wasn't my usual scene. Honestly, I couldn't afford to buy a drink in a place like this, but tonight? Nothing else was important.

I stumbled into the club, drenched and shivering, with a single thought in my mind: forget. Forget Nathan. Forget Sarah. Forget that my life had turned into a public spectacle of betrayal.

The bouncer shot me a doubtful look, but I shot him a glare that said, Don't even test me tonight. He let me pass. Inside, the music was thunderous.

The air was heavy with the scents of expensive liquor and perfume. People laughed, danced, and flirted in the shadows, their lives looking perfect.

I headed straight toward the bar, my heels clicking on the marble floor. "Whiskey. Straight," I said to the bartender.

"You sure about that?" he asked, eyeing me like I didn't belong.

I glared at him. "Do I look like I'm in the mood for water?"

He didn't argue, sliding the glass across the counter. I knocked it back in one sip, wincing as it burned its way down my throat.

"Another," I requested.

"You sure?" the bartender asked again, raising an eyebrow. "Do I look unsure?" I snapped. He shrugged and poured me another drink. One drink became two, then three. I lost count somewhere around my fourth glass.

The room began to spin, and the music blurred into a muted roar. "Bad night?" a deep voice drawled beside me.

I turned, my vision slightly hazy, to see a man leaning casually against the bar.

His striking blue eyes were fixed on mine, sharp and unreadable. His dark hair was slicked back, and his fitted suit radiated wealth. A lot of it.

"That's an understatement," I muttered, gesturing for another drink.

He nodded at the bartender. "Put her drinks on my tab."

"I didn't ask for your help," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

"No, but you look like you need it," he replied, his voice steady, almost amused. I frowned, ready to warn him to stay away from me, but something about him made me pause. He wasn't like those men who frequently come to a place like this flashy, arrogant, and desperate for attention.

No, this man was different. Confident. Composed. And dangerous.

"And who are you?" I asked, my voice slightly slurring.

"Alexander Steele," he said, extending his hand. I ignored it. "And why are you talking to me, Alexander Steele?" "Because you seem like you've made a bad decision out of frustration that could ruin your night," he said, his lips forming a smirk.

"Too late for that," I muttered, thinking of Nathan and Sarah.

"Ah, a woman scorned," he said knowingly.

"Let me guess-cheating boyfriend?"

I glared at him. "How do you know that?"

"It was just a lucky guess. You look like someone whose life has just been turned upside down.

"I tilted my head, examining him. "And you're what? Some kind of hero here to save me?"

His smirk grew wider. "Not exactly."I rolled my eyes and faced my drink again. "Well, thanks for the advice, but I don't need your help.

"He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Maybe not, but you could use a little distraction.

"His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I heated the way my body reacted to him. I shouldn't be talking to him, shouldn't even consider it, but the alcohol was dulling my restraints, and his presence was captivating.

"And what kind of distraction are you suggesting?" I asked, my voice bold.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth.

"The kind that helps you forget about everything that happened."

I gazed at him, my heart racing.

This was reckless, dangerous, and just exactly what I wanted. "Fine," I said, surprising even myself.

His eyes darkened with something I couldn't quite tell what it was, and he extended his hand once more. This time, I accepted it.

Conversations turned into laughter, laughter into whispers, and whispers into something else entirely.

"Come with me," Alexander said at some point, his voice low and rough.

"Why?" I asked, though my pulse quickened at the intensity in his gaze.

"Because I think we both need to forget tonight."

His words felt like a lifeline, a chance to lose myself completely, even if only for a few hours. Without thinking, I took his hand.

The next few moments were a blur. One second we were at the bar, the next, we were in a private room upstairs.

The lights were dim and the air thick with tension."You're drunk," he said, his voice now softer.

"That's the point," I replied, my words slurring. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're going to regret this tomorrow morning."

"Not as much as I regret trusting those I loved," I shot back, my feelings surfacing. "So, are you going to keep chatting, or are you going to take action?

"His jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, I thought he would walk away. But then he moved closer, his gaze locked on mine.

"You're playing with fire," he cautioned.

"Good," I whispered. "I want to burn."

He didn't need any more encouragement. In one swift move, he closed the gap between us, his lips colliding with mine.

The kiss was fervent, desperate, and everything I needed to forget. I barely recalled how we ended up on the bed, my mind clouded with alcohol and desire.

The outside world vanished as his hands roamed my body, his touch igniting a flame I didn't know existed. It was raw.

But just as the night peaked, darkness enveloped me. The alcohol claimed victory, and I lost consciousness in his arms, the world fading away.

Chapter 3: What happened?

Alexander's POV

"Dad, we need to discuss something." Liam's tone was sharp, cutting the silence of my study. I didn't raise my eyes from my glass of scotch, the amber liquid swirling in its crystal prison.

I didn't want to face him.

"Not now, Liam," I muttered, trying to drown out the approaching argument. "Oh, it's definitely now." His tone was firm, a hint of frustration laced in every word.

"You've been like this ever since Mom passed away. You've shut everyone out, and I can't stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

I tightened my hold on the glass. "What are you saying? I'm fine."

"fine? Fine? Just take a look at yourself, Dad! You're not fine!" Liam's voice broke with intense emotion. "You're hiding in this damn house, avoiding me, avoiding everyone. You hardly ever leave this room. It's like you're trying to erase the fact that you even have a son. Since Mom died, you've become completely useless."

His words struck harder than I had antispated. I got up, slamming the glass on the desk.

"Mind your words, Liam."

0h"I'm minding them!" Liam short back, his fists tight. "But you know what, maybe you should do the same. I'm your son, Dad, and I can't even get you to listen me for five minutes.

You shut down the instant she passed, and it's not helping anyone! It's not helping you with!"

I stepped closer, my voice icy. "You think I don't understand that? You think I'm unaware of what I've lost?"

"Then why don't you take action?" Liam replied sharply.

"You don't have to get over her, I understand. But you can't keep on pretending like she never existed! You have to move on."

"I don't have to move on," I growled. "She was my wife. You don't just move on from something like that."

Liam threw his hands up in frustration. "It's not about moving on, Dad. It's about living. You have to escape this rut. You need help maybe atleast a housekeeper or something. Someone to talk to, to help you stop bottling everything up."

I didn't hesitate before I snapped back. "I don't need a housekeeper, Liam for the last time. I don't want a stranger in my home, living here and trying to take her place. I loved your mother, and no one will ever replace her. No one."

"Then stop behaving like she's the only thing that matters in this world!" Liam's voice shook. "Stop acting like we don't count. You're not the only one who lost her, you know that."

I stood still, the heaviness of his words enveloping me like a thick mist. Hurting him was never my intention, but the pain inside me was overwhelming. I turned away, facing my back to him.

"You don't get it. You're not the one who was with her every day, who saw her pass away right in front of me. You're not the one who... lost everything."

"Then what the hell are you going to do about it, huh?" Liam's voice was low yet piercing. "Stay here in this room forever, sinking in scotch and memories?"

I didn't have a single answer to his questions. Instead, I dismissed him with a wave, my tone more colder than I intended.

"If you want to leave, Liam, then you can leave. I won't hold you back."He stood there for a moment, gazing at me, his eyes filled with hurt and rage.

Then, without a word, he turned and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

The silence in the house was crushing. I leaned on the desk, my hands clutching the edge as I shut my eyes. My thoughts raced, yet nothing seemed to be clear.

My son, my flesh and blood, he was right, and still, I couldn't bring myself to care. I couldn't confront the truth of what I had become.

After what felt like hours, I grabbed my coat and stepped out. I needed fresh air. I needed something, anything to ease this choking sensation in my chest.

The club was loud, disorderly, and packed with people who didn't care. It was the last spot I should've visited, but it was the only place where I could blend in unnoticed. I walked in, ignoring the gaze, the music vibrating through my bones.

The last thing I wanted was attention, but I had to escape for a bit.

The bartender gave me a look, but I wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. I ordered a drink, downed it, and signaled for another.

The burn of the whiskey doing little to erase the memory that has been haunting me. It had been two years since the accident-two years since the car somalsauted, spiraling out of control.

I'd been driving. The guilt was a constant companion, a weight I couldn't shake. I'd survived with barely a scratch, but she... Emma didn't make it.

Her laughter, her smile, the way she always seemed to brighten every corner of my life-it was all gone in an instant. And now, the empty spaces in my life felt unbearable. Every room in the house echoed with the absence of her voice.

I stared at my glass, trying to push the memories away when something-or someone-caught my eye.

Across the dimly lit room, a woman stood out amidst the sea of faces. She wasn't loud or overly dressed like many of the others.

She had an understated elegance about her. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, her red lips curled in a subtle, she seemed not to be happy as she sipped her drink.

She was ordering drinks after drink.

She was alone, and for a moment, something stirred in me-a flicker of curiosity. Maybe it was the way her eyes scanned the room, sharp and observant. Or maybe I was drunk and didn't know what I was doing.

I found myself rising from my seat, drink in hand. It was impulsive, but in that moment, I didn't care. I crossed the room and stopped a few feet away from her. She looked up, her gaze locking onto mine.

What started as a mere conversation between the two of us unfolded into a night of passion neither had expected or could remember clearly.