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.