The billionaire's secret son

Antonella Bianchi sat on a small stool at the counter of the most popular bar in town. In one gulp, she ordered a glass of brandy and drank it all. She wasn't concerned about still being dressed in her wedding gown, or about the city making her the major topic of conversation.

Antonella Bianchi sat on a small stool at the counter of the most popular bar in town. In one gulp, she ordered a glass of brandy and drank it all. She wasn't concerned about still being dressed in her wedding gown, or about the city making her the major topic of conversation.

Not only that, but she ordered another round to push away the thoughts of that day. Antonella had accepted an arranged marriage with a man whose name she only knew. Although she didn't know his background, she was excited. Benjamim was a wealthy man who would offer her a good future, and she eagerly anticipated the marriage, only to end up frustrated.

The church was packed, and the loud music filled the room, masking the inner turmoil Antonella felt when she received the news that the groom would no longer be there. At twenty-two years old, she saw her dreams of building a family and having children reduced to nothing. She left the church, and instead of locking herself in a room, she went to the bar.

There was no longer any perspective for her life from that point on. She had become a disappointment to her family. She wished she had the chance to meet Benjamim and make him pay for the disgrace he had brought to her life. Now it was too late; everything was ruined, and she only had to drink another drink and forget her problems, even if it was for one night.

"Is there some costume party in town that I don't know about?" A male voice sounded in her ear, making Antonella roll her eyes. The last thing she needed that night was a joke about the way she was dressed.

She was so immersed in her concerns that she hadn't noticed the man approaching. Turning her neck to look at him, she was already ready to respond with arrogance; she was forced to swallow her words. His gaze was deep, capable of laying bare her soul. But what really caught Antonella's attention and left her fascinated was the beauty he possessed.

"A costume party would be the least of my issues," she swallowed hard, smiling shyly. "Today was my wedding, but the d*mn groom left me at the altar."

The man averted his gaze, and a smile tugged at his lips, but it soon disappeared. She got lost in his features. He was strong; she could see his muscles through the white dress shirt, which had its buttons open. His well-defined face and his eyes are intensely green.

"I'm truly sorry." His words brought her back to reality.

"Don't feel anything," she replied, regaining her voice and looking away. "On second thought, it was a blessing not to have married that man. Imagine him arriving at the church, and I find out he's ugly, full of quirks and vices."

The man seemed amused by her words. He asked the bartender for a bottle of water, which Antonella found quite strange.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked as he opened the bottle and took a long gulp of water.

"I would rather not talk. Why would I tell a stranger that I was forced to marry a faceless man? And that, even though I've never seen him in my life, I'm suffering from being abandoned; God knows for what reason," she grumbled. "Who wouldn't want to marry Antonella Bianchi?"

Indeed, only a foolish man wouldn't marry that woman. Antonella was a natural redhead. Her gray eyes contrasted with her delicate skin and the freckles on her face. Her full lips wrapped around the glass as she drank her tenth drink, making the man desire her.

"What are your thoughts on getting out of here? Maybe a walk could help clear your mind." Antonella watched the man approach her, and his body touching hers caused involuntary shivers.

"That's a great idea," she sighed at the thought of being with that handsome man.

She got up excitedly, although she felt slightly dizzy from the strong drink she had consumed. She stumbled to the side when the man grabbed her by the waist. His touch was strong, and his perfume was seductive. Barefoot, she left the bar beside him. He didn't let go of her for even a minute until he put her in his car.

If Antonella had been sober, she would have thought that being with a stranger was madness, but she was drunk, and that thought didn't even cross her mind. She just let herself be led by him to a hotel, and his passionate kisses took away her every breath.

She only remembered him calling out the name of a woman who wasn't her, but she didn't care. When she woke up the next morning, she was alone, wrapped in a sheet, not fully remembering how she had ended up there.

She dressed slowly, feeling her head pound with an unbearable pain when her cell phone vibrated. She looked at the screen and identified the call. Not only that, but she answered but said nothing, just waiting for the voice on the other end to start talking nonstop.

"Where are you, Antonella?" She had the feeling she was listening through a loudspeaker: "Your mother has called my house a dozen times since what happened yesterday."

"Don't continue, Dominique," she interrupted her best friend. "Just come pick me up at that hotel at the entrance of the city. I think I've done something crazy."

"What did you do, Antonella?" Dominique asked anxiously.

"We'll talk later; I promise I'll tell you everything," she said, remembering something else: ", and please bring painkillers. I have a terrible headache."

It was clear that Dominique wanted to prolong the conversation and find out everything that was happening, but Antonella ended the call. She looked for her shoes but couldn't find them anywhere. With little patience, she left the hotel dressed as a bride and barefoot. Her makeup was smeared, and her hair was disheveled. She stood in front of the building, just waiting for Dominique to pick her up.

Twenty minutes later, the 1993 Chevette pulled up. She got into the vehicle under the horrified gaze of her best friend.

"What are you doing at this hotel?" Dominique immediately rolled her eyes as random thoughts popped into her head: "Don't tell me you..."

"Slept with a stranger after being abandoned at the altar by another stranger?" Dominique had a horrified expression on her face.

"That's precisely what I did. But he was so handsome, my friend."

"Are you telling me you slept with a man whose name you don't even know?" Antonella remained silent.

"You must be joking, right?" "I would have slept with a stranger anyway," she replied, messaging her endlessly aching head. "At least I saw the face of one of them. And he was the most handsome man I've ever seen in my life."

Dominique took her back home, and as soon as Antonella arrived, her parents greeted her with disapproving looks. She knew she had gotten herself into yet another big problem.

"How did you manage to do that?" Enrico's furious roar made Antonella cringe.

She had barely set foot in the house, and her father was already venting his frustration.

"Look at you." His furious eyes roamed over every inch of her body. "You're a ragamuffin, parading around town in that rejected bride's dress. You're a disgrace to our family."

Francesca approached with a face red with embarrassment, but Antonella didn't let herself be put down. She should have been used to the arrogant way her father treated her, but she still had hopes of softening that hard heart, which were dashed when she was abandoned at the altar.

"Don't say something like that, Enrico," Francesca reproached her husband with a stern look and then turned to look at Antonella, "what's the girl's fault for being abandoned?"

On the other side of the room, Alessia, the youngest sister, was chuckling, but not loudly enough for everyone to hear. Deep down, she was thrilled that Antonella hadn't married the city's billionaire. Antonella, knowing how much her sister hated her, finally opened her mouth to defend herself.

"You shouldn't be angry with me, Dad." Antonella was so disappointed that anger was her only defense: "I was forced to marry a man I didn't know and then abandoned by him. Why don't you try asking him why he embarrassed you?"

Enrico was speechless for a few seconds when he approached Antonella and slapped her across the face. This was the first time he had hit her, although the words he had constantly said had given Antonella the same sensation she felt now. Her face burning, she slowly turned to look at him and found only hatred on her father's face.

"You mustn't forget that you still live in my house," he said, pointing a shaky finger in her direction, "and this marriage was our salvation. If you can't find a good husband, from now on, you'll be working and helping to support the household."

That seemed unbelievable. Enrico was all about the money and managed to hurt his daughter to get what he wanted. Antonella felt a lump in her throat when she remembered that her family was gradually going bankrupt and that marrying Benjamin Dylon was her father's only hope.

She didn't see anything wrong with working, but she was tired of seeing her father determine her steps.

"It's not fair!" she shouted uncomfortably. "Why do I have to work when Alessia doesn't?"

"Are you trying to compare me to you, Antonella?" she grumbled, laughing satisfactorily.

"I don't know what the hell you're laughing at," she pursed her lips, getting more and more annoyed. "Do you think everything I'm going through is funny? While I have to carry the family on my back, what do you do? Paint your nails?"

Alessia shrugged, but the teasing smile never left her lips.

"Enough of this frivolous talk," Enrico interrupted them. "I don't need to explain that Alessia studies full-time; she can't work. Please, Antonella, go up to your room before I do something crazy to you."

Antonella clamped her mouth shut because she hadn't been brought up to answer to her father either, but there were things she couldn't keep quiet about. She kept quiet because she knew that this conversation would take her nowhere but to the eye of the street.

She turned on her heels and started up the stairs when she heard Alessia once again.

"Go ahead and throw that wedding dress away!" she laughed again. "I doubt that anyone in this town would want to marry you after you've been abandoned at the altar."

Antonella swallowed and ran to her room. She cried silently. The next day, she thought the atmosphere in the house would be calmer, but as soon as she sat down to have her coffee, she was bombarded with her father's demands. He threw a piece of paper on the table and said it without blinking.

"You have a job interview at the same company where your uncle works," he said, snatching the coffee cup from her hands. "Hurry because you're already late."

Antonella nodded, a little lost, while Francesca looked inconsolable. Just to avoid making her mother more upset, she decided not to disobey her father.

"Can I at least know what job I'm applying for?" she asked wryly.

"You're going to be the company owner's private secretary," he said, pulling her by the arm and forcing her to stand up.

Antonella was trying hard not to fall apart right then and there, but Enrico's words simply irritated her. He walked over to Francesca and kissed her, trying to calm her down. She went back to her room and changed. Then she called Dominique so that she could help her get to her job interview.

The drive was silent, as if she were in mourning. It was difficult to even think about it: not being able to make her own decisions and live the life she had once wanted. When the car stopped in front of the company, Dominique promptly offered to stay there with her.

"I would rather not get in the way of your day," she said, a little too despondently.

"I don't have anything important to do in the morning," I said, trying to console her.

Dominique was an excellent friend, but she couldn't avoid the impact Enrico's decisions were having on her life. She smiled, swallowing down the urge to cry. They got into the elevator, and as soon as they reached the reception, Antonella's legs immediately stopped. Dominique even thought she was ill.

Her pale face and wide eyes gave the impression that Antonella was seeing a ghost.

She crouched down and hid behind the counter. Dominique's face turned red with embarrassment.

"What are you doing, Antonella?" She squirmed over to her, grabbed her arm, and tried to get her back on her feet. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Worse than that, girlfriend," she said, looking at the man who was standing a few meters away. "That's the same man I met at the bar last night."

Dominique looked where Antonella was pointing and was immediately struck by the man's beauty. Then she stood up, looked the secretary in the eye, and asked.

"Can you tell me what that man's name is?"

"Of course!" she looked at the young man Dominique was indicating and smiled, answering, "It's Mr. Benjamin Dylon, the future owner of this company."

Antonella closed her eyes tightly when she heard those words. That couldn't be true.

Benjamin Dylon, the groom who had abandoned her at the altar, was the same man she had been with last night.

"We need to get out of here!" Antonella crawled out of her crouch, grabbing Dominique's hand, and headed for the fire escape.

"What are you doing, friend?" She stopped Antonella in mid-stride, looking into her frightened eyes. "You have a job interview."

"I can't work here," she said, and when she felt like her heart was going to explode, she stopped, leaning against the wall behind her and sliding her body down the steps. "I know my father will want to kill me when he finds out I didn't do the interview, but I can't work for Benjamin. For the man who abandoned me at the altar and then, pretending he didn't know me, took me to bed."

"You're not that innocent, Antonella." Dominique crouched down and, sensing her friend's despair, tried to be sympathetic. "But he's a Greek god. Who could resist such beauty?"

Her eyes narrowed in disapproval at Dominique's comment. She realized that, deep down, she was only trying to help. But in this case, there wasn't much he could do. Had Benjamin done it deliberately? Antonella didn't doubt it, but she wouldn't humiliate herself enough to go after him and demand an explanation.

Feeling calmer now, she stood up again and decided to leave. She hurried down the stairs. She wanted to get out of that place before she accidentally bumped into Benjamin.

"I can go there and demand an explanation from him," she said, making Antonella suddenly stop, so frightened she was by her words.

Antonella knew that she could do it.

"Forget it, Dominique," she said, holding her shoulders and pleading. "Let's get out of here and pretend none of this ever happened."

"And what are you going to tell old Enrico?" That question made her eyelids flutter. "He'll refuse your apology, Antonella, and you'll end up in trouble with your father."

"Better a problem with him than facing that green-eyed devil." The comment made Dominique smile. "Besides, I'm sick of doing Enrico's bidding."

"He's the most beautiful green-eyed devil I've ever seen." The comment made Antonella roll her eyes as she walked back out of the building.

Silently, she got into the car, realizing that Dominique was right. Enrico wouldn't accept her excuses, whatever they were. She needed to get a job urgently, to calm his father's rage, become independent, and finally leave that house.

"It's not possible to have only one job in this whole city," she grumbled. "I can get a better job; somewhere I don't have to face the man who cheated on me."

"You're right," she said, driving back to Antonella's house, "but that job was the best you could get."

"Why do I get the impression that you're trying to coerce me?"

Dominique stared at her, feeling offended.

"I wish you the best," she said, without looking her in the eye, "and if the best is to work for Benjamin, then so be it."

But Antonella wouldn't allow anyone to influence her. She asked Dominique to change the route, and they stopped at a coffee shop in town. While she was having breakfast, she searched the internet for job openings in the surrounding area. She looked worried, and frustration filled her when, for the second time, she realized that Dominique was right. She wouldn't find a better job than that.

Likewise, she was in a state of despair when her cell phone rang. She was startled to see that the call was from her home, specifically from Enrico.

Not only that, but she felt like she was going to have a heart attack, and her face paled as soon as she answered the call and heard Enrico's furious voice on the other end of the line.

"Where are you, Antonella?" She wondered how long Enrico would treat her like a child. "Oscar just called to tell me that you didn't show up for the interview."

She swallowed, feeling the saliva tear in her throat. She hadn't imagined that the news would reach her father's ears so quickly.

"I would rather not work there, Dad," she said bravely, hearing him grumble on the other end of the line. "I'm asking you to let me choose where I am keen to work for once."

"Do you think you'll get a better job than that?" His tone of voice was so loud that Antonella thought she would go deaf just listening to him. "What are you going to work at, Antonella? Waitress? Because that's the best you can do with your education."

He felt another slap being thrown in his face. She swallowed all the pain Enrico's words were causing in her heart and boldly told him,

"I'm looking," she said, and he grumbled for the tenth time, "don't wait for me for lunch. I won't be home until the evening."

She ended the call without saying goodbye, which would have made Enrico mad. She closed her eyes tightly as she felt Dominique comforting her. Although she didn't agree with her attitude, she was willing to support her to the end.

Antonella spent the whole day away from home, and when she arrived, her parents were already asleep. The next day, she did the same. She left home early and came back late, just so she wouldn't have to face her father.

A month had passed, and she hadn't found a job, not even as a server. Enrico's demands were becoming unbearable, and Antonella began to consider the idea of going back and humiliating herself by agreeing to work for Benjamin.

When she met Dominique that morning, she asked her to take her back to the company. She had arranged with Oscar, her uncle on her father's side, to do the interview again, but something happened that changed the entire story.

Antonella ran out of the car as soon as Dominique parked it and threw out all the food she had eaten that morning. She hadn't told anyone, but she had been experiencing constant nausea and intense sleepiness.

"I don't like it; it's a bad sign." She closed her eyes tightly to finish the thought. "Since when have you been feeling sick?"

Antonella was wiping her mouth when she looked at her, startled by what she saw on her best friend's face.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just answer my question, Antonella," she emphasized impatiently.

"A few days ago," she replied, "but I know what you're thinking, and there's no chance of that happening."

"Do you swear you protected yourself when you had s*x with Benjamin?" Antonella's face suddenly turned red. "Because you don't even remember exactly what happened that night."

Antonella fell silent, and despair gradually consumed her. As soon as she understood, Dominique grabbed her arm and dragged her to a pharmacy. They bought a pregnancy test and used the establishment's own bathroom to take the test.

"Is there really any need to do that now?" she asked, as she looked apprehensively at the cup full of urine, on which the white test strip rested. "I'm going to miss the interview for the second time, and Enrico won't forgive me this time."

"Imagine what he'll do when he finds out you're pregnant." Dominique took out the test and showed it to Antonella. "Positive result."

Antonella's heart exploded in her chest.

This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be pregnant with the man who abandoned her at the altar.