The Billionaire's Hidden Heir

Ella had always imagined her wedding day in shades of gold and ivory. She had imagined walking down the aisle to a man who loved and adored her, who would cherish her laughter for eternity and hold her flaws as tenderly as her strengths. She stood outside Daniel’s apartment that chill night with bouquet samples in her hands. Her heart still hummed with the excitement of their upcoming engagement dinner. That cold night she learned that dreams had sharp edges and fate could be heartlessly fickle. Her key turned too easily in the lock. She paused and a dark frown clouded her face. “Why did Daniel insist I call before coming over,” she said cluelessly, her dark brow curved slightly. She shrugged it off and smiled when she recalled him saying he would like to surprise her with romantic gestures whenever she came around. Tonight, due to the extreme bubbling happiness and eagerness to share the news that her company had given her the project she had been grinding hard for all these years, she ignored the rules. She wanted him to be the first to know the joyful news. Walking into the living room all littered with women’s dresses, a bra and red heels carelessly flung on the floor, her brain had not much time to process it when the sound from the bedroom hit her before the sight. It started as a low moan then a gasp that was not hers. Her entire body froze in panic. “No,” she muttered under her breath and pushed the door open. At that moment the world she knew and built all these years crumbled. Daniel was there, but he wasn’t alone. On the very bed, the one they cuddled together on a rainy Sunday, her fiancé’s body moved in a rhythm she couldn’t mistake and tangled with limbs that were all too familiar. In a flash second, the betrayal became far too clear. It was her best friend, Lydia. “Ella,” Daniel’s voice cracked up like a whip of guilt when his gaze suddenly caught hers. He scrambled up quickly, half naked while fumbling hard for words. Lydia didn’t even bother to cover herself. She sat up calmly and had this dark smirk curled up her lips. Confidently she brushed back a strand of sweaty damp hair. “I told you she would find out sooner or later,” she said, looking her straight in the eye as if taunting her. Instantly the bouquet slipped from Ella’s hands, petals scattering across the floor like pieces of her shattered heart. It felt like her throat closed and her chest tightened as if invisible fingers painfully squeezed the breath from her lungs. “How… how long?” she stuttered with tears threatening to pour any second. Daniel raked a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. “It is not what you think,” he said. Her laughter was rough with pain, breaking under the weight of her disbelief. “Not what I think? You were inside her, Daniel! On the bed where we planned our lives!” Lydia stretched lazily and rolled her eyes at her like a mean cat who had just won a cruel game. “You were always too naive, Ella. Did you really think he could be satisfied with someone as… ordinary as you?” she mocked loudly. The words sliced deeper, more painful because they came from the childhood friend whom she had trusted all her life like a sister. Daniel’s face suddenly turned cold. He grabbed his shirt and shoved it over his shoulder. “Ella, listen. You are kind and sweet. But you are not,” he stopped and winced hard. “Not what?” Her voice trembled with fury warring with devastation. “Just not enough,” Lydia finished up for him, her grin sharp and cruel. Something inside Ella snapped into pieces and tears blurred her vision, hot and unforgiving, but she refused to let them see her break completely. “I gave you everything,” she whispered. “My loyalty, my love and my trust. And both of you destroyed it as if it meant nothing.” Daniel reached for her, but she recoiled. His touch felt like poison now. “I can explain,” he said with desperation threading his voice. “You already did.” Her gaze dropped to Lydia, who looked at her with infuriating ease. “I hope he ruins you just the way you ruined me.” She turned on her heel and ignored Daniel’s protests, ignoring the way her legs trembled as if they would collapse beneath her. The door slammed loud behind her with finality. Outside, the night air was heavy, sticky with the remnants of summer rain in the air. Ella stumbled down the street, her heart filled with raw pain, pounding too loud in her ears. She didn’t even know where she was going. She only knew she couldn’t go home. Home was filled with photographs of promises now broken and it carried dreadful agony. Her phone buzzed loud in her purse. Daniel called endlessly, his name lit up the screen each ticking moment. She hurled the phone into her bag, refusing to let his lies invade the silence she badly craved for. She wandered aimlessly through the busy streets of LA, the massive city lights blurring through her tears. Every step felt like dragging herself through broken glass. The betrayal replayed in her mind again and again and every moment it ripped her apart, that of Lydia’s smug face, Daniel’s guilt and hesitation. The agony of heartbreak was more than enough not to think of their cruel betrayal. Their words echoed loud, branding and ripping her soul apart. She needed to forget and numb the pain. Her wobbled legs found their way towards a sleek, dimly lit bar on the far side of the city. She had never been there before, but the low thrum of music and the anonymity promised by its shadowed windows beckoned her soul, like a mother’s arm would beckon a distressed child. Inside, the wild air smelt like dark wood and soft leather, filled with strangers who she barely recognized, who didn’t know her name nor did they know she had just lost everything. “Perfect, this is exactly what I need,” she muttered under her breath. She dragged herself towards the bartender and slid onto a stool at the bar, her hands trembling as she ordered the strongest drink she could think of. “Whiskey, please,” her voice pale with exhaustion. A minute later the bartender placed a glass filled with cubes of ice and whisky in front of her. “Yeah, is your whiskey, Senorita,” he winked at her. “Neat,” she sighed in relief after gulping it down like a thirsty horse. The burn seared down her throat, grounding her in a way tears could not. “One more,” she told the bartender and smiled weakly. The bartender looked at her for a brief moment without saying a word. He dropped the second glass in front of her. By the third glass, the ache dulled and was replaced by a heady fog that softened the sharp edges of her pain. She smiled and was beginning to enjoy the drowsy night, but all of a sudden a deep masculine voice with scent of rich wood beside her pulled her back into reality. “Rough night huh?” he said with his warmth kissing her skin, almost numbing all her pain. His voice was deep like a dark lake yet smooth. It cut through the haze like velvet. She turned and her breath caught rapidly in her throat. The man beside her was unlike anyone she had ever met. Dark suit tailored to perfection, broad shoulders and sharp jawline that looked as if it had been carved from marble. His stunning blue eyes studied her with an intensity that made her heartbeat stutter. Everything about him screamed danger, power and control. She should have looked away, hated him and ignored him for being a man, but she couldn’t bear to do so. Tonight, Ella didn’t want to be safe but wanted to forget the deadly pain in her heart. “Something like that,” she murmured and traced the rim of her glass with a finger. He tilted his head, as if reading the secrets beneath her broken eyes. “Men are idiots. Whoever hurt you doesn’t deserve the tears.” The words shouldn’t have mattered, not from a stranger, but they cracked something inside her. Tears welled again without control and she hated herself for it. Without asking, he slid her glass away. “Whiskey numbs the pain. But it doesn’t heal.” Her laugh was bitter and rough. “And what does?” she raised her dark brow. His gaze burned into hers with dark intensity and raw emotions. “Sometimes, losing yourself for one night does.” The air between them thickened. Ella’s heartbeat thundered loud. She should have left and told him fiercely she wasn’t that kind of woman. But then she remembered Lydia’s mocking voice. You are ordinary. Not enough. What does she mean by that. For once, she wanted to feel like she was more. Her lips parted a bit. “And if I want to lose myself tonight?” His smile was dangerous and devastating. He leaned in, close enough that his breath kissed her pale skin. “Then I will make sure you are not the one who gets lost.” The world she was used to slowly tilted after that. She left the bar with his hand firmly placed at her back, guiding her outside into a waiting car that gleamed black beneath the city lights. She didn’t ask his name and he didn’t ask hers. She thought it was better that way, right inside the car when his mouth finally claimed hers. Heat seared through every broken piece of her. For the very first time in hours, maybe years, Ella felt alive. She knew as the night swallowed the both of them in wild passion that this was a mistake she would never be able to take back.