My Father’s Best Friend

Isabella Monroe POV

"Do you smoke?!"

His surprise looked real. Like he had never seen me smoking outside the college gate before.

He asked again, just to be sure.

"Didn’t you know?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I do know, Isabella."

My eyes widened, impressed. A wide smile slipped from my lips.

"Aren’t you going to put it out?"

He took another drag, his eyes fixed on the way my body leaned in the chair.

"Do you usually dress like this?"

I glanced down at my outfit, confused.

"Clothes like this aren’t suitable for a study meeting, right?"

I started gathering my things into my bag.

"If it bothers you, I can leave now, Professor. And my clothes are normal for a girl my age."

"But they’re not comfortable for a man like me. A man my age."

I looked at him, trying to understand what he meant.

"Sorry if it bothered you. I thought I was meeting someone like a father to me."

He walked toward me, slow, heavy steps. His dark eyes devoured every inch of me. My chest tightened when his scent hit me, mixed with cigarette smoke.

"That’s why I’m advising you, as your father. Wearing something this revealing could expose you to harassment."

He placed a glass in my hand, our fingers brushing.

"Drink this."

"Your cheeks are red. You’re clearly short of breath because of what I said."

I took it from him.

"Thank you."

I drank it in one go.

"Do you have any other questions?"

I shook my head, embarrassed, moving it side to side.

"You’ve already given me a lot of your time. I’m really grateful for your help."

I put my bag on my shoulder and stood up, ready to leave.

"My time is all yours."

I smiled shyly. He stood up too, his face still serious, unreadable.

"I’ll walk you to the door."

I nodded politely and walked ahead of him. His presence behind me made me nervous. So nervous I didn’t notice my shoelaces were untied. I stepped on one and almost fell.

His hands wrapped around my waist, firm, strong. The grip lit something deep inside me. It even hurt a little, his fingers pressing into my bones.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, flustered.

"Slow down a bit… I almost fell."

The heat of his touch, our bodies pressed together, made it hard to breathe. A warm breath escaped my lips, lifting the strands of hair off my eyes.

"Sorry… this is really embarrassing."

Then, boldly, his finger slid along the curve of my waist.

"You’re sweating. I hope you’re okay, little one."

I jerked away from his touch and rushed out of his office. I didn’t even look at his assistant, who was clearly staring at me with judgment.

I got on my motorcycle, still shaken by what just happened between us. How did I start leaning toward this man? His body, his behavior… the same man who helped me when I was a child. The man I always saw as a father figure.

And now… just looking at him messed up my breathing.

Damn it. He’s my dead father’s best friend.

"He needs to draw some clear boundaries with women. Just because he’s divorced doesn’t give him the right to get close to anyone. Especially not me."

I put on my helmet, forcing myself not to look at the window. I had this dirty feeling that he was watching me from behind it.

---

I was still lost in thoughts about him when Sofia called. I answered right away. Loud music blasted through the phone.

"Where are you, Sofia? I can hear music."

She sounded excited. Drunk, no doubt.

"I’m at the club again. Get dressed and don’t be late. I’ll wait for you."

I rolled my eyes and spoke, pretending to be sleepy.

"I was about to sleep, unfortunately for you. I’m not in the mood for a noisy night."

She screamed loudly, stubborn as always.

"Don’t pretend to be sleepy, Isabella. If you don’t come, I’ll come get you myself."

Then her voice softened suddenly, almost regretful.

"Please, Isabella… I feel alone here. And just so you know… the place is full of hot guys tonight."

I sighed, remembering her mother’s words. Sofia always did the opposite of what Cassandra wanted, just to drive her crazy. And somehow, I always ended up paying the price for her recklessness.

"Don’t move. I’m on my way."

I said it before I could even believe I agreed.

"Yesss! Wear something sexy."

I arrived a few minutes later on my motorcycle.

I saw her dancing with a handsome guy, as usual. He was much taller than her. Big. Really big.

The moment she saw me, her eyes lit up.

"Pink was made for you, Isabella. Damn, you look hot."

"Who was that guy you were dancing with? Didn’t I warn you about men in this place?"

She rolled her black eyes arrogantly. Just like her father.

"I was just having fun. You know I don’t like those types."

She let out a tired sigh.

"I want a man, not a boy. I want someone strong. Solid. Serious. And I wouldn’t mind if he’s a little twisted."

I grabbed a drink from the bartender.

She took another glass too. Her third.

"This is your third drink. You’re overdoing it again."

She took a sip, her voice slurring.

"So… how was your meeting with my dad today?"

I downed my first glass. Then the second right after.

"It was good. What do you think it would be?"

She grabbed another drink, already losing her balance. If she drank a fifth, she’d pass out.

She was about to say something suspicious, but suddenly a girl stumbled into her, drunk, spilling wine all over Sofia’s dress.

Sofia turned to her, eyes blazing.

"Are you blind?! You ruined my expensive dress!"

The girl stepped forward, ready to start trouble.

"What’s a spoiled girl like you doing here? Or is it just your rich daddy paying for everything?"

Sofia froze, shocked. She looked at me, then at the tattooed girl. She pushed her lightly, anger rising.

"What did you just say? Did you just call us spoiled?"

The girl shoved her hard. Sofia fell against me.

That was it. My blood boiled.

I pulled Sofia behind me and faced the bitch.

"What’s your problem? You want trouble? You won’t like what you get."

She cracked her neck, trying to scare us. Then she hissed, drunk, pointing at Sofia.

"My problem is with your whore friend."

"My friend is not a whore, you bitch."

I slammed my forehead into hers. She staggered back, screaming, barely able to stand.

"But I am."

In a second, she lunged at me, trying to slap me. I caught her hand, twisted it behind her back, and dragged her toward the edge of the bar.

"Now do you see who the whore is?"

Her voice got louder. People gathered around us, shouting like it was a show.

"Let go of my hand and I’ll show you what I’ll do to your pretty face."

My jaw trembled. I was tired of holding back. Everyone around me pushed me to lose control.

I looked at Sofia. She was crying, silently begging me not to do it.

But if I let go… I’d be the one who loses.

I grabbed a glass bottle from the counter.

I didn’t think.

I smashed it hard against her head.

I pulled my arm back, breathing fast.

Blood spread across the floor.

Everyone screamed.

Even the music stopped.