A Billionaire Daddy's Second Chance

Isabella’s POV.

I paced around anxiously, waiting for the timer to go off. My breath was uneven, and my hands trembled. I had never felt this nervous before, not even when I accidentally backed into my father's car. When the sound of my phone startled me, I sucked in a breath and walked over to turn off the timer, then reluctantly approached the sink where the pregnancy test awaited.

I knew I couldn't control the outcome, but I hoped I could accept it. Tears filled my eyes as I saw the word "pregnant" appear on the test. I couldn't believe it—I was pregnant.

"Isa? What's the result?" Toni, one of my best friends, asked from the other side of the door, patiently waiting for my response. Rosa, my cousin, was on the line too, eager to hear the news. Rosa and Toni had been my closest companions since childhood, and now they were my support system.

I picked up the test and walked back to the door, unable to speak at that moment. I showed them the result, and both Toni and Rosa gasped, their mouths agape, just like mine.

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on? Is she pregnant?" Rosa's voice echoed through the phone, slightly frustrated at being left out.

"It's positive, Rosa," I answered, swallowing the lump in my throat. How had I let this happen?

"What. The. Hell? How did this even happen?" Rishma, a new friend I had made, chimed in. She didn't know about my past with Ares, as we had met after I had parted ways with him.

"I think it's time I tell you the whole story," I sighed, settling down on the couch. Even Rosa and Toni didn't know all the details because thinking about it still brought me pain.

"Yeah, do share your story, angel," Toni cleared his throat, urging me to continue. Rishma sat beside him, her dark brows furrowed, eager to hear the tale.

"Wait, do you know who the father is?" Rosa interrupted, her voice booming through the phone. It was true; they didn't know the full story, and now was the time to reveal it.

"I do," I sighed, running my hands through my hair before reaching for a pillow to hold on my lap. I faced the screen of my phone, ready to tell them everything.

"Was it a one-night stand?" Rishma questioned, making me groan inwardly. Would I even have the chance to tell my story?

"Will you let me tell you the story?" I narrowed my eyes at the two on the screen, and they immediately fell silent.

Four months ago...

It all began when I accepted a job in San Francisco at a prominent hotel, Majestic Meadows. It was a tremendous opportunity for me to showcase my skills as an interior designer and build up my portfolio. I had a meeting with the hotel's owner, who remained anonymous until our encounter.

When I saw him walking toward me, I couldn't believe my eyes. It was Ares Volkov, the boy I knew from high school, the one who had captivated my heart. He had transformed into a successful businessman, and the sight of him brought back memories.

"Hold on, the Ares Volkov? Your high school crush?" Toni's voice interrupted, recalling snippets of my past conversations about him.

"It wasn't exactly a crush; we were just—" I began to explain, but Rosa cut me off.

"You both wanted to be more than friends but never pursued it?" Rosa's words came through the phone, filled with amusement. They seemed to have remembered my high school ‘crush’ better than everything else.

"Well, yes, but there's more to it," I muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed by the depth of my emotions. But I couldn't hold back any longer. It was time to reveal the full story.

"Let me tell you what happened," I continued, and they listened intently, ready to uncover the secrets of my past in hopes they’d be able to tell me what to do next.

Ares and I met in high school, where I worked as his tutor. Despite being a year older, he had failed a grade and ended up in my class- hence the tutoring. Our tutoring sessions brought us closer, and we developed a strong bond.

"Wait, you knew him from way before?" Rishma's voice interrupted, her brows furrowed in confusion. I nodded and replied, "Yes, we met in high school."

During the high school days…

Lionel and I hurriedly got out of the car, our argument still lingering, though it had lost its significance. My brother was two years older than me, and we constantly fought, driving our parents crazy. But no matter what, we loved each other more than anything. We were family.

I watched as Lionel's friends caught up with him, exchanging greetings before walking away. I let out a soft sigh and took a seat on one of the benches, leaning back and observing the other students bustling around.

My gaze fell upon a black SUV, and I immediately recognized it. It belonged to Ares Volkov. His father was a successful and wealthy businessman, while his mother was a renowned model with several beauty and fashion companies in her name. Ares ran his fingers through his perfectly styled chestnut copper-brown hair, his amber eyes locking with my green ones. A smile formed on his lips, and I quickly averted my gaze, feeling the awkwardness of the situation.

Ares approached me, and I sat there, unsure of what to do. We had never spoken privately, so I had no idea what he was like. He could be arrogant, strange, or even a combination of both.

"You're Isabella Mancini, right?" he asked, his voice carrying a surprisingly sweet tone. It was like honey, making me wonder if it was genuine or a facade.

"Uh, yes. How do you know me?" I furrowed my brow, knowing that our school was large, and I wasn't exactly chasing popularity.

"It would be a shame if I didn't know the members of the school soccer team," he shrugged, taking a seat beside me. His amber eyes never left me, even when he was seated. He was taller than most, his height accentuated by his lean physique. “You guys did after all win the championship.”

"Right," I mumbled, surprised by his unexpected familiarity. Our soccer team wasn't the best, but we consistently placed in the top three in the state.

"It's nice to meet you," he smiled, flashing his perfectly straight teeth and extending his hand toward me.

"Likewise," I mirrored his smile and shook his hand, which felt surprisingly soft.

"I was told to come to you for tutoring. Are you available?" he inquired politely. I hadn't tutored in a while, as I had been caught up with other activities, but now I realized that the administration had mentioned something about it. Oops.

"Let me check my super busy schedule," I joked, pulling out my agenda from my bag and flipping through the pages. I had plenty of free time, but I wanted to maintain a balanced schedule. Thursdays seemed open. "Okay, superstar, Thursday works for me. How about you?" I closed the agenda and returned it to my bag.

"Awesome, I'm free that day. Thank you so much, Isa," he responded happily, offering me a quick hug before getting up.

"Come on then, what's your first-period class?" Ares asked, extending his hand to help me up.

I never expected him to be so kind to me, but as we spent more time together, our friendship grew. Our friends merged into one big group, and besides tutoring, we spent lunchtime together. Sometimes he would walk me home, making the journey much more enjoyable.

"So, how come your parents aren't picking you up?" I wondered one day, noticing that he was walking with me instead of being chauffeured. It raised questions in my mind.

"Maybe I like walking," Ares replied, his tone uncertain as he nudged me away from the traffic side of the road.

"The truth?" I pressed, sensing his answer was a cover-up.

"I do enjoy walking, but I also do it so you don't have to walk home alone, silly," he admitted. I had mentioned to him before that I sometimes had to walk home alone when my brother stayed for soccer practice. It wasn't a complaint, just a casual remark, but having someone beside me made the journey more pleasant.

"Aww, he cares about me," I teased, looking up at him as we walked side by side.

"Of course, I need to ace my tests," he winked and tucked a strand of my red hair behind my ear. He glanced between me and the house behind me. We arrived at my home, and neither of us said anything for a moment.

"Right, you know, if you want, you can stay over today, and we can work on Spanish. That way, we'll have less to do tomorrow," I suggested, remembering that I had the day off from school.

"Hm, sounds perfect. I'll have to call the driver and let him know," Ares said, and I led the way into the house. I put away my bag and grabbed the necessary books and notebooks.

"One question: Why don't you drive yourself?" I asked, glancing at him as we descended the stairs.

"Because my father is a bit of an ass," he rolled his eyes, joining me in the kitchen. "He's fine with me going out, but when it comes to school, I must be dropped off and picked up," he ranted while I poured us some pineapple juice.

"You used to skip school, didn't you?" I laughed, handing him a glass of juice.

"Maybe, but he's doing this because my brother got caught skipping. I haven't been caught yet," Ares replied, winking at me before taking a sip from his glass.

"Aww, poor guy," I teased, taking a sip of my juice.

"Shush," he rolled his eyes, a playful smile on his face.

I waited as he made the call to his driver, setting up our study area outside while he returned to me. I watched as he removed his jacket, placing it aside and leaving him in just his white tank top, which hugged his athletic figure. He was as fit as an eighteen-year-old football player could be, but what I loved most about him was his height. He was the tallest Volkov, and it made him stand out.

"Hey, I always wondered how you became so good at Spanish. I thought Mancinis were Italian," Ares suddenly mentioned, leaning back in his chair as he looked at me.

"My family and I are Italian, but look at our neighborhood," I gestured to the surroundings. "We're surrounded by Latinos, so we learned their language naturally. My parents first learned it then we were taught by them and the kids around the neighborhood. It's a wonderful neighborhood, especially when there's a party. Everyone's invited, and the food is always amazing."

"That makes a lot more sense," he chuckled awkwardly.

"You know, even though I was born here, I learned Spanish and Italian before English. I struggled with English initially," I admitted, recalling how much effort my parents put into teaching me the language. However I adapted to Spanish and Italian more easily, considering our neighborhood's linguistic diversity.

"And look at you now, a genius," he smiled at me before his attention was caught by the sound of an approaching ice cream truck. "Oh, that's the ice cream truck. I'll buy us some ice cream!" he exclaimed, getting up and rushing down the porch steps.

"We should be studying," I reminded him, but he paid no attention, too captivated by the allure of ice cream.

"Not without a treat," he declared, determined to indulge in the sweet delight. He stopped the truck and ordered our favorite ice cream—a vanilla chocolate chip with chocolate sprinkles. Then he returned, triumphant, to our study area.

"Thank you, Ares," I said appreciatively, tapping the end of my pencil on the table as I waited for him.

From that point on, our friendship grew stronger. We spent countless hours talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. However, when he left for college, we lost touch. Our friendship abruptly ended, and I never saw him again.

Isabella's POV.

Looking back, I realized that deep down, I always had feelings for him. But at that time, the age difference made things complicated, especially knowing he would soon leave for college. So, I settled for being friends and enjoyed the time we spent together. However, in the last semester of school, our paths began to diverge, and eventually, he went off to college and never responded to my messages to keep in contact. We drifted apart, each pursuing our own separate lives. But when I saw him walk through that elevator, the way his amber eyes met mine with recognition and a familiar smile, I knew there was something still between us.

"Hello? Isa? Can we get back to the story?" Rishma waved at me, bringing me back from my deep thoughts.

"Right," I hummed and refocused. "That was some background story. Now let's go back to four months ago when I started my job at Majestic Meadows."

***

Four months ago...

"Mr. Volkov." I cleared my throat, watching as he approached me and took a seat across from me. Seeing him in a well-tailored suit, looking more mature and refined surprised me. His hair was no longer parted in the middle but neatly swept back.

“Ms. Mancini, still, I assume?” he asked, taking a seat across from me.

"Correct," I replied, sitting up straight and looking at the folder he pulled out.

"Wow, it's been years," he sighed, a touch of nostalgia in his voice.

"It has indeed," I agreed, studying his face and realizing that time had treated him well.

"I see you pursued your dreams," Ares mentioned, aware of my passion for interior design.

"I have indeed. I didn't know you were interested in hotels," I replied, genuinely surprised. I remembered his dreams of becoming a successful businessman.

"My first investment went well, so I stuck with it," he explained, a proud smile on his face.

"That's great, Mr. Volkov," I said, genuinely happy for him. Seeing my old friend succeed brought me joy.

"You can call me by my first name, Bella," he suggested, his amber eyes locking with my green ones. There was a warmth in his gaze that I hadn't seen before, and it caught me off guard.

"I prefer not to while we're doing business," I replied, feeling a tinge of shyness but also wanting to maintain professionalism.

"Right, well, have you been briefed on which rooms and suites we'd like to renovate?" Ares asked, diverting the conversation to business matters. He started flipping through the folder that contained some of my previous design works.

"Of course, sir. I have some designs I'd love to show you," I offered, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I had prepared several designs since the day I learned they had accepted me for the job.

"I'd love to see them, but I want to involve the group in the decision-making process as well," Ares said, his attention fixated on one of the potential designs. I hoped his focus meant he liked it.

"Tomorrow, we'll meet here again, same time, and discuss the designs with the others. Bring your best," Ares instructed, and I mentally noted to add the plans to the agenda.

"For today, I suppose we should talk about your contract, pay, and the duration of the project," he continued, handing me a contract he retrieved from his briefcase. I read through it carefully, agreed upon the terms, and assured him that I would complete the project on time. Little did I know that signing those papers would change my life in ways I couldn't have imagined.

Two weeks had passed since I signed the contract. Ares and his team had chosen the final designs and made some adjustments. I was diligent, arriving early to work every day and giving my best. Surprisingly, Ares visited the same hotel every day, even though he had several others to oversee. I appreciated his presence, and he often brought hot beverages for the staff. Everything went smoothly until one morning when I ran significantly late.

"How come you're so late?" Mr. Volkov stood by the entrance, his question catching me off guard. I cleared my throat, trying to regain composure and standing up straight to face him.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir. It won't happen again," I apologized, hoping he wouldn't press further. But instead of letting it go, he stepped to my side, blocking my path completely.

"What happened that made you come in so late?" Ares inquired, his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow conveying his seriousness.

"I don't want to make excuses," I muttered, averting my gaze and observing the hotel guests coming and going, their opulence evident in their appearance. This place catered to the affluent, and I felt a pang of insecurity.

"I asked for the reason, Bella," he spoke in a softer tone, his voice tinged with concern. There it was again, that nickname. 'Bella,' a shortened version of Isabella that only he used. It stirred something within me, a mix of familiarity and tenderness.

"The place I moved into is quite far away," I finally admitted, feeling a need to get it off my chest. It wasn't an excuse but a genuine explanation. I had to wake up early to beat the traffic and reach the hotel on time, considering the distance and the bustling city during work hours.

"Did you move there because of this job?" Ares questioned, motioning for me to walk toward the elevator.

"Yes, most closer places were unavailable when I needed to rent a place," I sighed, revealing my struggle to find suitable housing. When I secured the job, the most desirable locations were already taken.

"You should've just told me," Ares shook his head, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He pressed the elevator button for the office floor, and we stepped inside. “There are few rooms for employees. I want you to make use of one,” He explained his gaze on me rather than the reflection of himself on the mirror walls.

"I couldn't accept that, sir," I responded awkwardly, my gaze shifting to the floor. I didn't want to burden him further.

"I need you to accept it. I won't tolerate you being late again," Ares said sternly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. I knew he had high expectations and had even fired employees in the past for similar reasons.

"Fine, I'll pack my things and move in later then," I acquiesced, a mix of defeat and acceptance washing over me. It made sense practically, and I could use the extra time for myself instead of battling traffic.

"I could help you with that," Ares offered unexpectedly. I turned to him, surprised by his willingness to assist. I hesitated for a moment before shaking my head.

“I wouldn’t want to be a burden," I said, grateful for the gesture but also mindful of our professional boundaries.

"I don't mind helping an old friend," Ares shrugged nonchalantly, catching on to my hesitation. Memories of our past flooded my mind, reminding me of the strong bond we once shared.

“Friend,” I repeated in a scoff so quiet.

"Anyway, we should get to our jobs," he cleared his throat, snapping back to the present, and headed towards his office. I followed suit, our conversation hanging in the air, along with the remnants of unfinished emotions. It seemed as though the past had caught up with us, and the future held uncertainties and possibilities.