The billionaire’s desire

ONE - ISABELLA

A MONTH LATER

Tears flow down my eyes as the driver pulls out of the estate, heading to the airport. I clasp my mouth with my hand, muffling my heart-wrenching cries.

This can't be happening to me. Maybe I'm daydreaming, and I'll be up soon. But no matter how hard I try to believe that this is all a bad dream, I still can't shake off the thoughts of what just happened in a few minutes.

Father's feral anger. I've never seen him like that before. In all my twenty-three years of living, I've never seen my father like that. So unhinged and broken. His eyes held a depth of hatred and rage as he said the venomous words that would forever be etched in my heart.

"ISABELLA CLAUDIA DANTE! How the hell did this happen?" Father's boisterous voice thunders in the living room as he waves the newspaper in my face.

I stare at the papers blankly, shivering from the tension that it came with. A picture of me is nicely displayed on the front page with a headline that sentences me to a lifetime of doom.

-ISABELLA DANTE, THE LEGITIMATE DAUGHTER OF THE FAMOUS BUSINESS TYCOON, IS PREGNANT…-

How the hell did the media find out? After feeling weird for weeks, I took the courage to see the doctor yesterday. And he said that I was a month pregnant. It's the most unnerving and shocking news I've ever got, and it's yet to sink in. I'm yet to wrap my head around it, and this morning I already made the papers? Who gave them that information?

"Father, Please…" My lips quiver, and I hurriedly kneel in front of him, tears rolling down ceaselessly from my eyes. I hope he'll calm down a bit and let me explain.

"Isabella, don't make me repeat myself. What the hell is this?" He repeats through clenched teeth, venting his anger on the papers by squeezing them in his grip.

"I don't know. I–"

"So you're not pregnant then?" He asks, giving me a look that has a bit of hope in it. How do I take that hope away from him? How do I break his heart by telling him that I'm really pregnant?

"These are just ugly rumors, right? Tell me, baby. Tell me these are all lies. Please." He grabs my hands, thumbing off my tears and flashing me a warm smile.

My gaze drops, and I slowly withdraw my hands away from his hold. The words are difficult to say, but I say them regardless.

"I'm sorry, Father. But I'm pregnant. I found out yesterday…"

Silence followed—a pin-drop silence. And when I look up, he's fuming with a murderous rage. He stands to his feet and swipes the papers on my face, leaving a sting on my cheek.

Gasps fill the living room, and I know they're coming from my step-sister, Aurora, and my Aunt Anna. Father just got physical with me. That has never happened before.

"How could you do this to me, Isabella?!" His voice threatens to bring down the four walls of the house. Never. Never have I seen Father this angry, and the fact that I'm the reason makes me even more miserable.

"I'm sorry, Father. It was an accident. I never meant to hurt you like this…"

"But you just did!" He clenches his fist, visibly fighting the urge to lay his hands on me. "How could you?!"

"I'm sorry…" I sob hard, unable to say anything else. What can I say to fix this?

"Sorry isn't enough, Isabella! Do you realize what damage you just caused me? I've lost five potential investors this morning. My partners have been calling, demanding to pull out. The company's stocks just sank all because of your stupidity!"

"I'm sorry…"

"A company I sacrificed my life to build just met its ruins this morning, all because my daughter chose to betray my trust in her. And to think I blindly trusted you and made you my heiress…." Regret echoes in his words as he paces the floor.

"Please, calm down, Leonardo." Aunt Anna says calmly, going over to him. "Let the girl explain. I'm sure there's a good reason behind this shock. Please."

"No reason is good enough for this!" Father counters, and his furious gaze darts to me. "But yeah, Isabella. Explain. Tell me who the father of your bastard is."

"I'm sorry, Father, but– but–"

"But what?!" He fires back. "And quit saying sorry. It's not helping. Your apologies are meaningless. Just tell me who the jerk is that got you pregnant."

"I don't know who he is, Father."

"What do you mean by that?"

Tears form a huge lump in my throat, making it hard for me to speak for the next few seconds. I swallow the lump and try to talk calmly.

"I don't know who he is, Father. I don't remember his face or anything about him. I don't even remember what happened that night. I'm sorry, Father."

"What are you saying, Isabella? You don't know who the Father of your child is? Does that even make any sense?!"

I glance at Aurora, who is standing at the corner, watching us like this is her favorite telenovela show. Isn't she supposed to be groveling with me right now? Isn't she supposed to help me explain this to Father?

She was the one who convinced me to take her and her friends to the nightclub that night. According to them, it's the best way to celebrate my passing out of college with a first-class degree.

I was reluctant at first, but then I agreed and went with them. She was there. And at the end of the night, she gave me that drink that made me lose my mind. And even though she claims all she gave me was tequila, I still don't understand how it could put my mind in a fritz like that. I still don't understand anything from that night, but she does. So why isn't she saying anything right now?

"You ran off at night, hooked up with a stranger, and now you're carrying his child with no idea of where to find him. Is that it?" Father says, oozing with more rage.

There's no perfect answer to justify his question, and then he says the next words that sealed my ugly fate.

"Either you tell me who the father of this child is, or you leave me no choice but to disown you, Isabella!"