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.
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Chapter 2
[Hardin's POV]
I could see the desperation in her eyes as I paused, the air thick with unspoken tension.
Tears glistened on her lashes, and when our gazes locked, a rush of something primal surged through me. I loved the way she looked in this moment-seductive, vulnerable, utterly captivating.
"Why... did you stop?" she asked, her voice low and innocent, reminding me of someone I could never forget.
A smile crept across my face, a sense of calm washing over me. I didn't care what might happen next; I wouldn't stop now.
"I want you to beg for it. Feel it before you come on my expensive nails," I said, my voice low and deep.
Her gaze softened.
"Beg for it," I urged, teasing my fingers against her clit.
"Please... let me come," she breathed, her nervousness evident.
"Good girls get good things," I murmured, a dangerous smile playing on my lips.
I could see her surprise as I unhooked my belt and unzipped my shorts. Her eyes widened as my cock sprang free, veiny and ready. She stared, fingers clutching the bedspread tightly.
"Are you scared?" I asked, pulling her hips closer to me.
She swallowed hard. "You... are so big," she mumbled, the words barely escaping her lips.
"I can still stop..."
"Don't stop. I want it inside," she interrupted, her voice firm yet trembling.
"Inside where?" I teased, rubbing the tip against her slick folds.
Her hips bucked forward. "Inside there... I want it."
Her voice was a sweet melody, igniting a fire within me. I couldn't wait to ruin her.
"Are you sure?" I asked again, pushing the tip inside just enough to elicit a whimper.
"Yes... please," she moaned.
With a steady, gentle motion, I pushed in fully, finding that hidden place of ecstasy she had never known. Her lips parted in a gasp, and she gripped the bedspread.
I clenched my jaw, overwhelmed by her perfection. Her walls hugged me tightly, as if I were made for her.
I pushed deeper, determined to leave her breathless. A deep groan escaped my lips, her tightness overwhelming.
I looked at her, sweat glistening on her forehead, lips trembling as she gasped for air. Leaning closer, I began to move again, my rhythm steady.
Her moans danced in my ears, and I bit my lip at the familiar sound. I kissed her ear softly. "Are you comfortable, Elena, or should I stop?"
"Please, don't stop. I want you. I'm very comfortable," she pleaded.
I stroked her hair gently, kissing her forehead. She smiled up at me, and my heart raced. My body pressed against hers as she wrapped her arms around me.
Then I moved a bit faster and rougher. She screamed, kissing my neck, as if to tell me I was hitting the right spot. When the sweetness became overwhelming, I returned to my normal pace-faster, deeper, rougher.
"Gosh..." she moaned breathlessly, kissing my neck again. The sensation sent shivers down my spine, igniting the guilt that tightened my chest. She was my best friend's daughter. But I couldn't stop.
The more she cried, moaned, and kissed me, the rougher I became, pushing her closer to the edge. I forgot everything else, lost in the feelings I craved the most.
"Oh my God!" she gasped as I thrust into her, her body shattering around me, warmth enveloping me. With a swift motion, I pulled her up, throwing her leg over my shoulder, driving deeper without giving her a moment to breathe. I was lost in the rhythm, consumed by the heat between us.
"Fuck!"
"Yes!"
"Harder!"
"Oh! I love it, Hardin!"
Her sultry moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of our bodies colliding. I studied her expression, reveling in her pleasure. Her hair fell across her face, eyes darting with excitement, mouth open in ecstasy, and her breasts bounced with each thrust. The mattress shook beneath us, echoing our connection.
"You love it?" I muttered, quickening my pace.
"Oh, yes. I love it," she cried out. "Please, fuck me more!"
A thrill coursed through me as I lifted her other leg onto my shoulder.
"Oh! Hardin! Yes!" she screamed, tears of pleasure glistening in her eyes.
"Hardin... I'm... I'm coming!" she moaned, her voice trembling. I wanted her to feel every moment, to know it in her soul. I didn't relent, feasting on her desire.
"Please..." she gasped, her body trembling beneath me.
"I'm..."
She bit her lip sharply, and when she finally let go, warmth enveloped me again.
"You love it when I handle you this way, don't you?" I cupped her face, brushing her hair aside, forcing her to meet my gaze. She exhaled a hot breath against my skin, looking utterly spent.
"Yes," she murmured, leaning in to kiss my lips. I smirked; she radiated the energy I craved.
I held her jaw, my cock still buried inside her, and locked our lips in a rough kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck, allowing me to taste her completely, like a devoted pet. She gasped, but then she suddenly broke the kiss.
I raised an eyebrow, our eyes locking. She bit her swollen lip, breathless. "I want..."
"I want to touch you too, Hardin," she said hesitantly, heartbeat quickening.
"Why?" I questioned, frowning.
"Please don't stop what you're doing with me. I just want to touch you..."
"This will be our first and last time together. Please, let me touch you too." She pleaded softly. "I want to take off your clothes and see you naked."
I fell silent, studying her.
"I want to do everything you do to me," she continued, her voice trembling. "Please, don't reject me."
"Why do you think this will be our last time?" I asked, holding her gaze.
She hesitated. A single tear rolled down her cheek, glistening in the dim light.
"Because you're my father's best friend," she uttered, the weight of her confession hanging heavily in the air.
In that moment, we both realized the gravity of our situation. The thrill of our connection was overshadowed by the consequences looming over us.
"This moment is what to us?" I asked, my voice low, almost a whisper.
"A mistake. We'll totally forget," she replied dryly, as if trying to convince herself as much as me.
And in that instant, I understood. Our minds were in sync; we both recognized this as a fleeting moment to satisfy our desire.
A sin.
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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.