All Chapters of Tempted By My Best Friend's Billionaire Father: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

ARIAThe next morning arrived with a brutal brightness. The Malibu sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the beach house, painting streaks of gold across the white linen sheets of the guest bed. I woke up feeling heavy, my muscles aching in a way that reminded me of exactly where I'd been the night before.I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The heartbreak wasn't gone. It was still there, a dull ache in the background, but the sharp, suffocating edge of it had blunted. The pact had worked. I had remembered how to feel something other than grief.I showered slowly, letting the hot water scrub the remnants of the club and the alley from my skin. I dressed in an oversized white t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts, my hair still damp and clinging to my neck.As I walked down the spiral staircase toward the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air. I could hear Mika's voice, bright and energetic, echoing through the open floor plan."

ARIAThe skin of my shoulders burned from the sun, a tight, pulsing heat that made the walk back into the house feel like stepping into a refrigerator. I didn't bother with a towel, leaving a trail of damp footprints across the bleached hardwood. My mind was a chaotic loop of Julian's silhouette in the window, the way he'd looked at me, not as a guest, not as Mika's friend, but as something he intended to consume.The kitchen was silent, the air smelling of lemon polish and expensive espresso. I reached for a glass from the overhead cabinet, the glass clinking softly. I filled it from the fridge dispenser, the ice-cold water shocking my system, but it didn't extinguish the fire he'd lit from two stories up."Water doesn't usually cure that kind of thirst."I jumped, the glass nearly slipping from my hand. Julian stood in the archway, his arms crossed over his chest. He'd changed into a crisp white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle and a heavy sil

ARIAThe mahogany desk bit into my thighs, but the pain was a distant hum compared to the roar of Julian's breath against my skin. He didn't break the kiss; he deepened it, his tongue claiming my mouth with a territorial hunger that left me gasping."My room."The words were a command, barely a whisper, vibrating against my lips.He didn't wait for an answer. He gripped my wrist, his fingers locking like a cuff, and hauled me away from the desk. I stumbled after him, my silk wrap trailing behind me like a discarded skin. We moved through the house in a blur of shadows and silence, the air thick with a tension that felt like a physical weight. Every time his hand brushed my back or guided me around a corner, a fresh jolt of electricity sparked through my core.He kicked open the door to his suite and pulled me inside, slamming it shut with a definitive thud that echoed through the hallway.The room was a mirror of the man, minimalist, cold, and impeccably curated. Grey slate floors, cha

ARIAThe click of the study door felt like a slap. I stood in the hallway, my lips still tingling, the metallic, salty taste of him lingering on my tongue. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, not from passion, but from a sudden, searing heat of indignation.Get out.The words looped in my head, a cold recording that drowned out the memory of his hands in my hair. A few minutes ago, I had been his secret, his indulgence, the only thing keeping him anchored while he played the corporate titan. I had crawled under his desk and given him everything, risking the one thing I had left, my friendship with Mika, and he had discarded me like a piece of scrap paper the moment his screen went black.I leaned my back against the wall, sliding down until my thighs hit the hardwood. I closed my eyes and I could still feel the weight of him, the raw, desperate need that had pulsed through him while he spoke to those men in Tokyo. That need had been real. The coldness that followed was

ARIAThe Pacific was a bruised purple under the morning haze, the tide dragging a line of frothy white lace across the sand. My head throbbed in time with the crashing waves, a dull reminder of the champagne and the screaming match in the foyer. Beside me, Mika walked with her shoulders hunched, her footsteps heavy and uneven. She wore an oversized white linen shirt and sunglasses that hid half her face.She stopped abruptly, kicking a clump of wet seaweed."I can't believe I screamed at him."I paused, the salt spray clinging to my skin. "He's your father, Mika. You were just being honest.""Honesty is a luxury in that house. Usually, we just trade silence for shopping sprees." She sighed, the sound lost to the wind. She looked out toward the horizon, her expression vacant. "He doesn't know how to do it. The parenting thing. He thinks love is a transaction. If I'm sad, he buys me a bag. If I fail a class, he buys me a car. It's like he's trying to outsource the emotional labor to a c