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Not her Biological Father

Not her Biological Father

đź’•đź’•đź’• She trusted him with everything. But love was never part of the plan... and neither was death. Seventeen-year-old Jessica Harts arrives at the University of Gold Coast full of dreams, brilliant, beautiful, and trusting. Andre Blake, her charming "school father," was everything she thought she needed: older, smart, respected... safe. But behind the charm and quiet smiles was something darker. Something he kept buried... until it consumed him. And what he promised himself he'd never do again happened a second time. Only this time... it couldn't be undone. Now Jess is dead. And Andre is the only one who knows the truth. The world believes it was an accident. The whispers say depression. But someone else knows better... and they're watching. But Andre? He thought his wealth would cover his tracks. He thought silence could protect him. Until Jess's older sister arrives... with questions he can't answer and eyes that saw straight through him. He was hiding something or worse lying. Secrets don't stay buried. Guilt doesn't stay silent. Was it ever love? Or something much, much darker? Not Her Biological Father is a haunting billionaire romance thriller set on the golden coast of Australia. A story about twisted desire, broken trust, and the irreversible cost of crossing the line.
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Chapter 5

The conference hall at Central Bay Hall buzzed with soft chatter and the clinking of coffee cups. Sunlight filtered through wide windows, casting long beams across folding chairs and colorful banners that read: "She Speaks: Building Boundaries, Finding Power." Jessica Harts sat somewhere in the middle of the room, arms folded across her chest, eyes low beneath the subtle tint of her glasses. She wasn't supposed to be here today. She had told Ann, her coursemate that she was staying in her hostel because she was "bored." That was a lie. She had needed space. Mental space. Emotional space. She needed to breathe. The speaker onstage was tall, with short platinum-blonde hair and a voice that carried across the hall like silk cutting glass. "No one-no matter how close they are-has the right to touch your body without your permission. Not a boyfriend. Not a friend. Not even someone you call 'family.'" Jess's chest tightened. She knew the speaker wasn't talking to her specifically. But somehow, it felt personal. Like the woman's eyes were trained directly on her. She blinked away the burning in her eyes. Earlier That Morning... Jess had woken up early. Her roommate, Claire, was already in the shower, humming off-key to a pop song Jess couldn't quite recognize. "Morning," Claire said brightly, stepping out moments later with a towel around her head. She looked radiant as always, with peach-toned skin, naturally arched brows, and a head full of soft red curls. Everything about Claire screamed Pinterest-ready. Jess nodded, forcing a smile. "You sure you're okay?" Claire asked, drying her arms as she noticed Jess hadn't moved much from where she sat on her bed. "Just tired," Jess mumbled. "You've been tired for three days, Jess." She didn't respond. Claire sat next to her, not pressing too hard. That was Claire's way, always gentle, but never unaware. Back at the event... After the main talk, Jess found herself seated beside two girls from her faculty, Zoe and Mallory. "I'm so glad we came," Mallory whispered. "That last speaker? Whew. Gave me chills." Zoe nodded. "Especially the part about trauma responses. Like... how your body freezes even if your brain's screaming 'run.'" Jess swallowed. She turned to her notebook and scribbled a line just to keep her hands busy. "Don't ignore what your body remembers, even if your mind wants to forget." She drew a small heart next to it. Then furiously scratched it out. Flashback: The Lighter Days She remembered when Andre first walked her to her lecture hall, how he had shielded her from the afternoon sun with his notebook. He joked that he'd always be her umbrella if she ever needed one. She had laughed so hard her cheeks hurt. That was the Andre she had trusted. The one she'd shared secrets with, like how she hated her smile because one of her teeth was crooked. He had told her it was her best feature. She had believed him. They studied in the library together. Walked through the park near Eastwood Hall eating ice cream. She had once fallen asleep on his shoulder while reading To Kill A Mockingbird on the lawn behind the engineering block. Now? That shoulder no longer felt safe to rest on. Back at Campus Jess returned to campus just before sundown, tired but mentally revived. The empowerment seminar had been exactly what she needed, words of strength, stories of resilience, women clapping for each other's growth. For a while, it made her forget the strange weight she'd been carrying. The silence. Andre's eyes. That kiss. But as she walked through the campus gates, reality tiptoed back into her chest like a whisper she couldn't ignore. Claire was waiting for her in the room, cross-legged on the bed with her hair wrapped in a messy scarf and snacks scattered all around. Scrolling through Pinterest boards for their dorm decor revamp. "Finally," she said, springing to her feet. "I was about to report you missing." Jess dropped her tote bag and smiled faintly. "I told you where I was going." "You also told me you'd be back by three. It's almost seven." "I stayed for a panel. It was worth it." Claire looked at her, really looked. "Are you okay, though?" Jess blinked. "Why wouldn't I be?" Claire raised a brow. "You've been off all week. Even when you smile, your eyes don't. I know when you're pretending." Jess sank onto her bed, suddenly too tired to lie. "I've just been overwhelmed." "With school or... something else?" Jess hesitated. "Both." Claire didn't push. Instead, she grabbed her purse and said, "Good. Because I already made plans. We're going out." Jess blinked. "Out where?" "Mini girl's night out". I'm treating you don't have to worry. Food, drink, and if you behave, maybe ice cream too." Jess let out a soft laugh. "You're bribing me with ice cream?" "Absolutely. Because you're my roommate and my emotional support bestie, and I don't like seeing you this... dimmed." Jess felt a lump rise in her throat. "Claire, you don't have to" "But I want to," Claire cut in, already pulling her into a hug. "Now get changed, Queen. We're going to have fun." They ended up at a cozy rooftop café not far from campus. The sun had just dipped below the skyline, bathing the sky in dusky pink and gold. String lights twinkled overhead, and the scent of grilled chicken, cinnamon, and melting cheese filled the air. They ordered mocktails, cheesy fries, chicken wraps, and Claire paid every bill without flinching. Jess found herself laughing, for the first time in days. They talked about their classes, their annoying course reps, boys they both pretended not to like, and what kind of weddings they'd have if they ever married billionaires. It felt normal. Safe. Until, for a split second, Andre's face flashed through her mind again. That look in his eyes. The way he left that day after kissing her without saying a word. She swallowed her smile and looked down at her drink. Claire noticed. "You went quiet again." Jess forced a smile. "Just tired." Claire nodded slowly, as if deciding not to push. "Then let's end the night with ice cream. Happiness on a cone." Jess laughed softly and followed her to the walk-in parlor nearby. And for a little while longer, she let herself forget. Forget how fast things had changed. Forget how quickly safety had started to feel like an illusion. They left the ice cream stand with laughter still buzzing in their chests and sticky sweetness on their fingers. The walk back to the hostel was slow and lazy, the kind of pace that only came with full bellies and tired legs. Claire was already yawning before they reached the stairwell. "I'm so full and feel so heavy," she groaned, dragging her feet like a zombie. "That food knocked me out." "You were the one who insisted on extra toppings," Jess teased. "It was for you," Claire whined dramatically. "Healing-through-gluttony therapy. Now I've sacrificed my whole stomach for your emotional well-being." Jess chuckled. "You're so dramatic." They reached the room, and Claire tossed her tote bag onto the floor before collapsing straight onto her bed like a sack of laundry. "Off to dreamland," she mumbled, "Oh wait" she stood up like she almost forgot something, reaching into her bag and blindly tossing something toward Jess. It landed on her lap with a soft thud. Jess looked down. A chocolate bar. "Thanks," she said with a small smile. Claire waved her off sleepily. "Eat it, don't cry over it. G'night." She went back to bed, wore her headset, and buried herself under her blanket, and within minutes, her breathing slowed into a soft, rhythmic hum. Out cold. Jess sat at the edge of her bed, chocolate still unopened in her hand. The quiet settled around her like a second skin. Outside, the night was humming, distant traffic, a dog barking, wind rustling the trees. Normal sounds. But her mind wasn't quiet. Jess dropped onto her bed with a sigh. Her phone buzzed. A text from her older sister, Jasmine. "Hey baby bird. You've been quiet lately. How's school?" Jess didn't reply right away. She stared at the screen, heart aching with a heaviness she couldn't name. She considered typing: "I kissed someone and I think he's dangerous now." But deleted it. Instead, she wrote: "Been busy. You?" Jasmine replied instantly. "Still working crazy hours. Can't wait to fly over soon. Maybe next weekend?" Jess bit her lip. Maybe she should tell Jasmine something was bothering her. She always knew what to say. But that was the thing about Jasmine, she didn't hold back. If Jess told her... something serious might happen.   Nighttime The stars outside Jess's window blinked faintly through the dusty glass. Claire had long fallen asleep, soft music playing from her headphones. Jess sat up, with her back against the wall, knees drawn to her chest, clutching her phone. She opened her chat with Andre. Typed something. Deleted it.   Typed again. "I'm afraid of you."   She deleted it. Typed once more. "What happened to you?" Sent. Seconds passed. No reply. She waited. Eventually, she locked her phone, placed it face-down on the desk, and whispered into the silence: "What if I fall in love with him?"

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