In Love With My Father's Best
Prologue.
I've loved him as long as I can remember.
Hardin. My father's best friend. The man who seems untouchable, unlovable to every woman. But for me? He's everything.
Thirty-Five. Handsome. Calculating. Billionaire.
And yet, he remains single.
What could I do? I'm just Elena. Twenty-two years old. His best friend's daughter. Someone who shouldn't even think of loving him. So my first love became my hidden secret.
But now? I'm out of college, and I've vowed to chase my dream.
I joined his company, not for work, or for ambition. But for him.
To stay close. To make him fall for me.
Forbidden love is a dangerous game, but I'm willing to take the risk.
Will I succeed?
Will my love break through every rule and boundary?
I don't know.
But I'm ready to find out.
Chapters
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Chapter 1
[Elena's POV]
I didn't realize I had entered the wrong bedroom.
Not the one I had been told to use after the heavy rainstorm.
Work had run late on my first day, and by the time I was done, everything felt rushed and confusing. So my father had to ask his best friend for help. Apparently, it was his company.
And here I was-completely naked, the shirt I was supposed to change into clutched in my hands-when the door opened with a faint creak.
My heart skipped. My fingers loosened, and the shirt slipped from my grip, falling to the floor.
It was him.
Hardin Kings.
My father's best friend.
The man I loved.
Standing in the doorway, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. He didn't look away. He stared-openly, intensely, sending a strong shiver down my spine. I bit my lower lip, trying to control myself.
My chest tightened, reminding me that he was my father's best friend. The man I shouldn't even be standing in front of like this.
But I wanted him to notice me. Would he finally notice me now?
"This is my room, Elena. What are you doing here?"
His voice was low. Deep. Laced with something dangerous that made it harder to control my feelings.
His gaze didn't shift. He remained almost nonchalant, as if nothing about this situation bothered him.
But no. He couldn't completely hide the tension lingering between us.
"I..."
"I thought..."
My voice trembled, no words could undo the moment.
"You said the first room." I forced the words out.
"The first floor," he corrected quietly. "And you should have locked the door."
Why didn't I do that?
Was I... Waiting for this moment?
I swallowed.
A crooked smile curved his lips.
His gaze moved slowly over me, taking in every inch of my exposed skin as if he owned it all.
Then it hit me, I was naked.
I tried to cover myself, but it was too late.
He had already seen everything.
My gaze dropped, but I could still feel his eyes on me. My breath trembled as I slowly looked up again, our eyes locking.
In three slow, deliberate steps, he closed the distance between us.
I didn't move. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air between us thicken. His fresh, strong scent filled the room and my senses.
My eyes met his-dark, and filled with something I couldn't ignore.
My mind went blank. I could be this close to Hardin?
"What are you up to?" he whispered.
Heat burned down my skin. This was wrong, I should step away, but I couldn't.
"What do you mean?" My voice was barely above a whisper.
His stare held something palpable.
His hand shot out-gripping my jaw, as if he expected me to pull away. But I didn't.
Then he pulled my face closer to his. We shared the same heavy air, his warm breath brushing against my skin.
His eyes dropped to my lips, then to my eyes. I gasped softly.
"You seem very suspicious, Elena," he murmured.
He was just too close. Dangerously close.
A strange chill ran down my spine.
Slowly. Steadily. His lips moved closer to mine.
My heart raced as his face drew nearer. My eyes followed his gaze, and when his lips almost touched mine, my eyelids fluttered shut as if some invisible force was pulling us together.
And just when I thought he was going to kiss me, his lips brushed against my ear.
"You're so turned up, Elena," he whispered. "I can smell your arousal."
My breath caught in my throat and my eyes snapped open.
"Huh?" I breathed.
"Ending up in my room wasn't an accident." He smirked.
"I don't understand what you're saying," I said defensively, pulling away slightly, but his grip remained firm.
"Really?" he said softly. "Then why are you so wet right now?"
My fingers clenched together, my legs pressing tightly against each other.
"I'm not."
He nodded slowly.
And then I felt his hand brushing against my inner thighs.
My eyes widened as his two fingers slipped inside my pussy.
I swallowed sharply.
"Hardin..."
"Didn't I tell you? You're so wet," he grunted, teasing his fingers inside me.
I couldn't speak.
He pulled out, and before I could react, he thrust back in.
I almost whimpered and I gripped his shirt.
He smirked dangerously. "Isn't this what you wanted?"
He twisted his fingers deep inside me, and I almost lost my balance, but his other hand pulled me closer, pressing my naked body against his.
My legs trembled on the floor. I bit my lip hard to suppress a moan.
My grip on his shirt tightened.
I wanted to remind him this was wrong, completely wrong, but I couldn't. I wanted this more than anything.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, his fingers going deeper, making my whole body vibrate under his touch.
"Please..."
"Gosh!" I gasped.
Every part of me screamed that it was a mistake, yet my body refused to obey.
"Speak up!" he ordered, quickening his pace.
I nodded my head, My vision blurred, just like my mind did.
"Word!" he growled, commandingly.
"Yes. Don't fûcking stop... please." I sniffed.
Then he lowered his head to my chest, and I felt a cold bite on my nipple that nearly made me cry out.
His mouth closed around the nipple, sucking rawly, his tongue flicking against it, as if producing the sweetest milk in the world.
My knees weakened, but I couldn't lose my guard with his arm firmly around me. He caged me like he was never ready to let go anytime soon.
My head fell backward as my fingers slid into his hair, stroking it. His fingers were still moving inside me.
My lips parted, gasping for air. This dangerous obsessive feeling was sweeter than anything I'd ever tasted. I didn't want him to ever stop. He shouldn't stop.
I was so wet that I could feel every movement with ease. The scent of my own desire filled my senses.
He took my second nipple next. The one he had left sore.
I moaned, and it felt like I had begged him for more. He sucked so rawly I lost all sense of reality. My tears rolled down my cheeks.
"God.. don't stop." I cried, my legs trembling against the floor.
I yanked his hair roughly, but it didn't help. I bit down on his neck. "Yes... mm," I whimpered, the pleasure threatening to consume me.
"Tell me you love it. Say it, Elena," he roared against my skin, biting and sucking.
"Yes... I love it. Please," I gasped, pushing my chest closer to him.
When he finally let go, I could barely breathe. His eyes met mine again. His fingers left inside me. He licked them clean.
Redness flooded my cheeks. I could see the sinful hunger in his gaze, that matched my own.
Just like that, he lifted me like a leaf. Before I knew it, we were on his bed.
I lay flat on my back while he knelt between my spread thighs.
He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips.
"You're so naughty. You're this soaked without me even doing half of what I planned for you yet?"
I avoided his gaze. He chuckled darkly, teasing. My breath caught in my throat.
"I don't stop when I had started something. Are you sure about this?" he asked.
My silence spoke volumes.
He gripped my thighs, and before I could process what he was about to do, his face buried itself between my legs.
His tongue flicked along my soaking folds, licking and teasing, his teeth gently grazing my clit.
I bit my lower lip, my fingers found their ways to my own body.
His teasing became dangerous and raw, forcing my lips to part in silent plea.
"Oh... Har... din..." I moaned, gripping the bedsheet for support.
He devoured me, his tongue fucking my hole while sucking at the clit.
My body trembling as I screamed.
I could hear him moaning as he feasted on me.
It began as a faint ache, slowly awakening through me.
It grew-sharper and faster, coursing through me like a wildfire.
I couldn't speak. I arched closer, fingers tangling in his hair, desperate and pleading.
I needed it; I begged him without words, the wave of my climax pressing down, suffocating.
Instead of slowing down, he pushed his two fingers inside me, fucking me while sucking at the same time.
My ears roared.
Fuck! He was a monster. That single, piercing stare had taken everything, my composure, my control. And here I was, enjoying it so much.
Then.
He suddenly stopped.
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9.7
Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned.
Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman.
At his grandmother's funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted.
But the Moon has not abandoned her.
A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction.
Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power.
Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake.
By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.
9.5
In the glittering shadows of New York City's elite, impoverished artist Elena Vasquez clashes with the enigmatic billionaire tycoon Alexander Hale. What begins as a chance encounter in a rain-soaked alley spirals into a whirlwind of passion, betrayal, and redemption. As Elena fights to reclaim her stolen dreams, Alexander's guarded heart unravels, forcing them to confront family secrets, corporate intrigue, and the ruthless divide between their worlds. Will their forbidden love survive the storms of jealousy, scandal, and loss, or will it shatter like the fragile art that brought them together? Shattered Canvases is a steamy billionaire romance that explores the raw edges of desire and the healing power of vulnerability.
8.9
I returned to New York for my welcome-home party, expecting a warm embrace from Edwin, my devoted fiancé of twenty years.
Instead, his first words to me were a cold, public warning to stay away from his new girlfriend, Kacy.
He stood in my family's hotel, shielding a girl I had never even met, and painted me as a vicious, jealous bully.
"She is very sensitive, Kaitlyn. Her background is tough. Please, be gentle with her. Don't upset her."
He humiliated me in front of our entire elite circle, allowing them to mock me as the aggressive, discarded ex while he carried her away like a fragile princess.
For twenty years, I had been his loyal shadow, fixing his mistakes and loving him unconditionally.
I couldn't understand how decades of deep devotion could be instantly erased by a few crocodile tears and a manipulative damsel act.
He was absolutely certain I would throw a tantrum, cry, and eventually crawl back to beg for his attention.
But he was wrong.
He didn't know that Everett Rowe, a billionaire tech mogul, had been patiently waiting five years to marry me.
He also didn't know that during my three years abroad, I wasn't just studying art—I became "K.B.", the ruthless Wall Street predator who could swallow his family's empire whole.
I calmly pulled out my phone, ignored the mocking whispers around me, and typed a single message to Everett.
"Yes. I'll marry you."
7.2
I was securing the diamond clasp of my necklace when the security monitor blinked to life, revealing my husband burying his face between his assistant's thighs.
Just an hour later, Dante Moretti stood by my side at the Gala, playing the part of the devoted Capo, while his mistress smirked at me from across the room in a dress that screamed for attention.
I wanted to leave. I had packed my bags, ready to disappear.
But then the doctor told me the news: I was six weeks pregnant with the Vitiello-Moretti heir.
I thought the baby might save us. I thought it would stop the madness.
I was wrong.
When his mistress accused me of betrayal to cover her own tracks, Dante didn't listen to his wife. He listened to the woman warming his bed.
In a blind rage, the man who swore to protect me struck me down.
I felt the sharp, tearing pain in my abdomen before I even hit the stone floor.
As blood stained my pristine white dress, I realized he hadn't just broken his vows.
He had killed our unborn son.
So, when the opportunity came to detonate the gas line and fake my own death, I didn't hesitate.
I let the world believe Seraphina Moretti died in that explosion.
Ten years later, I returned to a city that thought I was a ghost.
I dismantled his supply lines, froze his assets, and watched his empire crumble piece by piece.
And when he was finally on his knees in the rain, broken and destitute, I stepped out of the shadows.
I didn't come back for his money.
I came back to hand him the ultrasound photo of the child he murdered.
"Hello, Dante."
9.3
She was never supposed to be the bride.
Lila Hart has always lived in her older sister's shadow, Evelyn, the perfect daughter, the favorite, the one chosen to marry Adrian Blackwell, the cold, powerful billionaire heir who controls half of Manhattan. But forty-eight hours before the wedding, Evelyn disappears. No explanation, No goodbye. Just a single warning: "Don't let him find out what I did."
Now the Hart family is about to lose everything, their reputation, their company, their future, unless Lila steps into the role her sister abandoned.
So Lila becomes the replacement bride
A marriage born out of duty for her... and pure anger for him.
Adrian doesn't want a wife, He wants answers. And he's certain Lila knows more about Evelyn's disappearance than she claims. They swear they'll keep their distance, No love,No trust, Just a contract neither of them asked for.
But the night of the wedding, a violent warning arrives, proving Evelyn didn't run away, She was taken. And whoever has her... wants Lila next.
Now Lila is trapped in a marriage built on secrets, hunted by enemies she can't see, and falling for a man she was never supposed to love.
Because the most dangerous place for her... might be right beside her husband.
7.2
I lay in the hospital bed, every breath feeling like I was inhaling wet concrete. My husband, Trent, stood by the window, more interested in his reflection in the glass than his dying wife.
My sister, Cristi, sat nearby, complaining about how the rain would ruin her expensive shoes on the way to the car.
Trent walked to my bedside and brushed a finger against my oxygen tube.
"The liver failure is aggressive," he whispered. "But we expected that, didn't we? After all those 'vitamins' you've been taking."
I tried to scream, but my vocal cords were paralyzed. Cristi just giggled, telling me not to struggle because they needed my trust fund voting power by midnight. They held up a Do Not Resuscitate order and told me my hand had "signed" it with a little help.
"You were a depreciating asset, Cleora," Trent said, his lips cold against my forehead. "Now, you're finally liquidated."
As the darkness swallowed me, I saw flashes of my life—my mother’s suspicious car crash, my stolen sketchbooks, and the bitter almond taste in my morning juice. I died in a state of pure, helpless rage, realizing I had been murdered by the only people I ever loved.
How could they be so heartless? How could I have been so blind to the monsters living in my own home?
Then came the sensation of falling.
I sat up with a gasp, my lungs burning with fresh, salty air. The hospital was gone. I was in a luxury stateroom on our family’s charity cruise, three years before my death. I was alive, healthy, and back at the beginning.
When a blood-stained billionaire named Clemente Pennington walked out of the suite's bathroom, I didn't run. I looked him in the eye and realized that this time, I wouldn't be the one liquidated. I was going to make them pay for every drop of poison they ever fed me.