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 5
[Elena's POV]
Heat crept up my neck.
"Fiancée?"
When? How?
A ripple of shock ran through the crowd. Then silence.
Hardin smiled-that calm, controlled smile-and walked to me. Each step landed like a measured beat against my ribs.
He slipped off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. His arm came around me-firm and unyielding. The scent of him-clean, and sharp-made my breath falter.
"Now that you're aware of our relationship," he said coolly, scanning the crowd, "Move."
He guided me through the parted sea of people as they moved.
When we reached the car, he released me.
The space between us felt sudden overwhelming.
His eyes locked on mine.
"Sir," his secretary Cash said from the driver's seat.
I stepped back.
"Take her home," Hardin said. "Make sure she's safe. No mistakes."
And just like that, he walked away.
I couldn't speak; I didn't know what he was planning. My family was in danger.
"Miss Creed," Cash called, gently.
I slipped into the back seat.
Moments later, the car pulled away.
___
It was noon when I arrived at home. The crowd was gone.
What if my parents had seen Hardin call me his fiancée?
My legs trembled as I stepped inside.
The house was unnaturally silent.
Father wasn't watching the news; Mother wasn't in the kitchen.
Guilt tightened in my chest.
I was about to move when my mother came out.
I froze.
"Where were you, Elena?" she asked, rushing toward me. Worry etched her face.
"I... I..."
She pulled me into a tight embrace before I could explain.
"Why did you go out without informing me? It's dangerous to be alone right now. I was terrified when I couldn't find you in your room."
I felt her tears against my shoulders.
"I'm fine, Mom," I said, pulling back to wipe her cheeks. But the look in her eyes told me she wasn't convinced.
"Elena..."
"I'm fine," I insisted. If I let my voice shake, she would break and I couldn't afford that. "Where's Father?"
She shook her head. "He refuses to do anything."
So they hadn't seen the news yet.
Relief and guilt twisted together in my chest.
What would father say if he knew?
"I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered, embracing her again.
She held me tight.
___
Sleep refused to come.
I kept turning from side to side.
The room felt unbearably hot.
What was Hardin planning now? Had the announcement solved everything or made it worse?
My breath caught as a soft knock tapped against my window.
I slipped out of bed and opened it.
Jordan stood outside.
I bit my lip as our eyes locked.
"Can I come in?" he whispered.
I nodded and helped him climb inside.
"You shouldn't be here," I said quietly. "People might misunderstand."
He pulled me into a hug.
"I know you need this," he murmured. "The video has been taken down. People will forget soon."
Composure broke inside me.
"My father hasn't eaten. He won't speak to me. My mother pretends to be strong for my sake. They're ashamed of me," I whispered, voice trembling. "Will they forgive me?"
Jordan hugged me tighter.
"They will. Just give them some time."
___
The next morning, I found my father in the living room.
No television. No newspaper.
Just silence.
"Good morning, Father," I said softly.
"Good morning," he replied without glancing at me.
I swallowed.
"Father..."
He stood up and began walking away.
The doorbell rang.
He stopped.
"I'll get it," I offered.
He ignored me and opened the door.
My breath stilled.
Hardin stood there.
Calm.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
Why was he here?
My father wouldn't spare him now.
I could clearly see my father's fist clenching.
"We don't accept outsiders in our house, so you're not welcome here anymore, Mr. Kings," he said. The harshness in his tone cut deep into my heart.
Hardin sighed.
"I don't want to be here either..."
"Then why are you here?" my father growled.
"To set things right," he muttered.
Before I could react, my father's hand struck his face-twice.
My throat went dry.
Hardin didn't move. He didn't flinch.
"How dare you break my trust-and our friendship?" my father roared.
I rushed forward and grabbed his arm as he tried to punch him again.
"Father, please..." I whispered.
His muscles were rock hard beneath my fingers. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't stop. Then slowly, his arm dropped.
Hardin seemed completely unbothered, his gaze never shifting toward me. Instead, he stepped inside the house as if he belonged there.
My father pulled away. I quickly shut the door and followed them inside.
"I can't believe this," my father continued angrily.
"You have no shame. After what you did to me and my family, you still have the audacity to come to my house?"
Hardin slid his hands inside his pockets.
"I'm not here as your friend," he said calmly. "I'm here as your son-in-law."
My eyes widened.
What was he up to now? Son-in-law? Has he lost his mind?
My father let out a dry laugh that chilled the room.
"Now I know you've truly lost your mind. You think you can fool me, like you fooled everyone else by your fake fiancée news? I was your friend for years-I know you. No woman can be happy with you. And you expect me to marry my only daughter to someone like you?"
My feet went cold in my slippers. My father was aware of Hardin's announcement? So he had pretended not to know?
"I know I deserve those slaps," Hardin said evenly.
My father froze.
"But we don't have another option."
Silence filled the room.
"I'm not here to defend myself," he continued. "I'm here to protect what is left of our reputation. If Elena marries me, this stops being an affair."
I bit my lip.
Marriage?-This was his solution?
"I won't force her," he added calmly. "But this is the best solution."
My father's jaw tightened.
"I don't need your help," he snapped. "I'll protect my family myself. We don't need outsiders."
Hardin reached into his suit jacket, and placed a slim folder onto the table.
My father raised his eyebrows.
"It's a civil marriage arrangement," he said. "My lawyer prepared it last night."
The room felt smaller.
"If you change your mind," he added quietly. "You know where to find me."
My father snatched the folder from the table and thrust it back toward Hardin. "We don't need this," he said through clenched teeth.
Then he walked to the door and pulled it open.
"Thanks for your concern, Mr. Kings. You may leave." He glared.
Without another word, Hardin walked out, gripping the folder tightly.
I watched him go.
The door slammed, echoing through the house.
My father punched the wall so hard that I gasped, the plaster cracking beneath his fist.
"Father!"
"Brandon!" My mother rushed in.
"I'm fine," he said stiffly before storming inside.
My mother followed him.
I slowly sank onto the couch.
Friendship, business, and reputation were being destroyed because of me.
When will all of this end?
Silence answered me.
___
In the evening, I passed by my parents' bedroom when I heard my father pleading with someone on the phone. I knew it was one of his clients.
I leaned against the door frame.
"Sir, please! Hear me out first. This is a family matter and I'll take care of it. Please don't bring business into this."
Helplessness laced his voice.
"Please, sir..."
The person ended the call.
He clenched the phone, then he smashed it against the wall, shattering it completely.
I gasped, heart hammering.
He turned around, and our eyes met.
As he tried to walk away, I rushed into his arms.
"I'm sorry, Father," I whispered. "I'll make everything right. I promise. Please forgive me."
After a moment of silence, his arms wrapped around me.
"It's fine, dear."
I sniffed, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over me.
Tomorrow morning would mark a new chapter of my life.
___
The next morning, every employee stared at me as I walked down the hallway.
*She's Mr. Kings' fiancée?*
*Why did they hide it?*
*She's so lucky...*
I ignored them.
I wouldn't stand by and watch things collapse. I refused to be weak any longer.
I walked straight into Hardin's office.
He looked up, frowning.
"You should knock," he said coldly. "Ask for permission before entering."
I smiled softly.
Instead of answering, I walked forward and sat on the edge of his desk.
My heel brushed against his thigh.
His jaw tightened.
I leaned closer and lifted his chin, forcing him to look at me.
He breathed heavily.
Meeting his gaze made my heart race, despite the chaos swirling around us.
"I need permission to enter my fiancée's office?" I asked softly. "That's funny."
"Fiancée?" he drawled.
I leaned even closer and pressed a kiss on his cheek.
"No," I whispered. "My husband."
His gaze sharpened.
"I'm here to accept your proposal, Hardin Kings."
I held his stare.
"Let's get married. Today."
The air between us turned dangerously still.
His eyes burned into mine.
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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.