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Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father Novel Cover

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.
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Chapter 6

The view from the 50th floor of the Koch Tower was spectacular. The entire city lay spread out like a circuit board, cars moving like data packets through the veins of the streets.

Dallas Koch stood at the window, his back to the room.

Behind him, the Board of Directors was arguing about the acquisition of a tech startup in Silicon Valley. The numbers were being thrown around—millions, billions—but Dallas wasn't listening.

He was staring at a small red dot on his tablet screen.

The dot was moving. It had left the jewelry store and was now stationary at a café on 5th Avenue.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A security report.

Subject: Anson Hyde. Incident at store. Neutralized. Banned from premises.

Dallas's jaw tightened. "Neutralized" wasn't enough. He wanted Anson Hyde erased. He wanted him to feel the fear Eliza had felt for years.

He turned around. The movement was sudden, and the room went silent instantly.

"Gentlemen, we're done," Dallas said.

The CFO blinked. "But sir, the merger details—"

"Email them to me. Get out."

The tone was final. The board members scrambled to gather their papers, sensing the storm brewing behind the CEO's eyes. They filed out, leaving only two men behind.

Zane Sterling and Vance Foster. His inner circle.

Zane spun a pen on the mahogany table. "You're distracted. Is it the market or a woman?"

Dallas ignored him. He walked to the head of the table and sat down, loosening his tie. It felt like a noose today.

Vance placed a manila folder on the table. "Marriage license filed. Sealed by the judge this morning. It's buried deep, Dallas. No one finds this unless they have clearance from the DOJ."

Zane choked on his water. He coughed violently. "Marriage? You? The Monk?"

Dallas glared at him. "It was necessary."

"Who is the lucky victim?" Zane asked, grinning like a shark.

"Eliza Solomon," Dallas said. The name felt heavy on his tongue. Foreign, yet right.

Vance nodded, ever the pragmatist. "The Hyde ward. Smart. You gain leverage over Hyde's sectors if she has a claim to the Solomon estate."

Dallas didn't correct him. He let them think it was business. It was safer that way. If they knew the truth—that he had been watching her, waiting for her, for three years—they would think he was insane.

"She's terrified of me," Dallas admitted. The words slipped out, a rare moment of vulnerability that made the room go quiet.

Zane laughed, but it was softer now. "You are terrifying, man. You look like you eat puppies for breakfast. You need to woo her."

"I don't woo. I acquire," Dallas said stiffly.

"Not with a wife," Zane advised. "You need soft power. Flowers. Dates. Talking."

"Talking is inefficient," Dallas grumbled.

Vance interrupted, looking at his laptop. "Anson Hyde is running a background check on the license number. He's hitting walls."

"Let him hit them," Dallas said, his voice dropping to absolute zero. "I want him to know she is untouchable. I want him to know she belongs to me."

He picked up his phone. He unlocked it and stared at the background photo for a split second—a candid shot of Eliza laughing in a park, taken from a distance two years ago—before locking it again.

"Azalea is with her," Dallas said. "They are shopping."

"Good. Azalea is your buffer," Vance noted. "She humanizes you."

Dallas stood up. He grabbed his jacket.

"I'm leaving early," he announced.

Zane whistled. "The King leaves the castle before 8 PM. It must be love."

Dallas shot him a warning look that could have peeled paint off the walls, but he didn't deny it.

He walked to the private elevator. He needed to see her. He needed to make sure Anson hadn't left a mark on her soul today.

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