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Not her Biological Father
Not her Biological Father

Not her Biological Father

39 Chapters
Completed
In Not her Biological Father, billionaire Andre Blake hides the truth behind Jessica Harts' death. As her sister seeks answers, this billionaire romance novel turns into a thriller of buried secrets. Read this modern novel to see if his influence can mask the darkness.
Chapter 1 of Not her Biological Father

Jessica Harts grew up in a house where love arrived before money ever did.

Her childhood home sat on a quiet coastal street, modest but warm, always smelling faintly of antiseptic and laundry detergent—evidence of her mother’s profession. Elaine Harts was a senior nurse in a public hospital, a woman who worked double shifts and came home with tired eyes but steady hands. She raised her daughters on discipline, prayer, and the belief that education was the only inheritance that could never be stolen.

Jess learned resilience early. Not because life was cruel, but because it demanded effort. She watched her mother leave before sunrise and return long after dusk.

Her older sister, Cassie, became her first role model—protective, outspoken, and fiercely independent. Together, they learned how to navigate life without shortcuts.

Jess was the kind of girl teachers noticed for all the right reasons. Intelligent, observant, and quietly ambitious. She wasn’t loud, but she was present. Not reckless, but curious. She dreamed of building a life that blended purpose with comfort—a future where she could give back without losing herself.

University was not just a milestone—it was proof that the sacrifices had meant something. Proof that she could build a future wide enough to carry everyone who believed in her.

That morning, as she stood at the gates of the University of Gold Coast campus with a suitcase at her feet and her heart racing with anticipation, Jess told herself this was where everything would begin.

She didn’t know yet that trust could feel safe before it felt dangerous.

She didn’t know yet how thin some lines were.

…….

I stared at the beautiful image of this damsel standing before me, her hips swaying from side to side as she catwalked toward me. I got lost staring at her cleavage peeking from the V-neck crop top she wore. They weren't too big or too small..just the right, perky kind that jiggled slightly as she walked by.

"Hey, Dad. Dad!!" she called, snapping me back to reality.

Jessica had just been admitted to the university, while I had been here for the past three years. This was currently my fourth and final year. I'm a Civil Engineering student-and Jessica's school father. My name is Andre.

Jess, as I call her, is not only intelligent but also undeniably beautiful. A perfectly carved figure-eight body. A face that makes heads turn.. pointed nose, almond eyes, naturally pink lower lips, and soft eyebrows that complete her angelic look.

I was the first person she approached on her first day when she got lost on her way to a lecture hall. I remember the day like it happened yesterday. She stopped me, looking slightly embarrassed.

She had stopped me near the Science Block, looking lost and a little flustered. "Hi... sorry. Do you know where the Science Department is? I think I'm lost "

Her voice was soft, uncertain.

I recognized her immediately. Jessica Harts. We had gone to the same elementary school years ago, though she didn't seem to recognize me.

"Yes, actually," It's just by the side of the students' cafeteria, close to the VC's office."

She looked a bit confused, so I added, "You know what, I'll take you there-if that's okay with you?"

"Okay, sure. Thank you so much," she replied, visibly relieved.

That one offer became everything.

Since that day, we'd been close. Texting, studying, eating together. I helped her register for courses, talked her through assignments, and answered her late-night calls when she got anxious before class. It felt good at first, protective. Purposeful.

But over time, my feelings warped into something else. Something I couldn't explain. Or control.

She didn't make it easier, either not intentionally. She called me "Dad" like it was a joke, always laughing, always wrapping her arms around me like I was the safest place in the world.

She had no idea.

"Dad, are you okay?" Jessica's voice pulled me back to the present.

Shit. I had been staring again.

"Uh, yes, dear. I'm fine," I quickly replied.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, placing her hand softly on my shoulder. "Is it your final exams?"

"No, dear."

"Don't worry, I know you don't want to talk about it. But I'm sure you'll pass."

"That's sweet of you. But no-it's not that. I'm just exhausted."

She smiled. "You're still looking handsome, even when exhausted."

I chuckled, "And you're beautiful today, Jess."

"Where are you heading?" I asked.

"I received a package from home, so I'm going to get it," she replied, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag.

"Hope it's a big bag of goodies?" I teased.

We both laughed.

"I don't know yet, but if it is... I might not tell you," she said, raising a brow. "So you don't hover around my house and finish them for me."

"Wow. The betrayal," I said, pretending to clutch my chest. "After all we've been through."

Jess giggled and rolled her eyes. "I'll let you know if it's worth sharing. Maybe."

"Or maybe I'll just show up uninvited," I shot back.

She looked at me, a playful smirk lingering. "Try it, and I'll call the campus police."

"Then I'll say I was checking up on my child," I said, a grin tugging at my lips.

"Some father you are."

We stood there in that small moment, laughter slowly fading, a silence settling between us like fog.

She looked up at me with those warm brown eyes, the kind that saw people, not just through them.

"I'll see you later, Dad," she said softly, starting to walk away.

My smile faltered for a second.

"Yeah... later, Jess."

I watched her go-shoulders slightly bouncing with her stride, her curls catching the sunlight like fire.

I should've turned around and headed the other way.

But I didn't.

I stood there too long, hands buried in my pockets, staring at a girl I had no business seeing the way I did. My thoughts spun in all the directions they weren't supposed to go.

She was seventeen.

I was supposed to protect her. Guide her. Keep her safe. I was supposed to protect her. Guide her. Keep her safe. Not the other way around.

I rubbed the back of my neck, frustrated with myself.

"You need to get a grip," I muttered under my breath.

But deep down, I already knew the truth:

I wanted more than friendship.

And no matter how hard I tried to hide it... It was only getting harder to control

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