Chapter four

HAZEL POV

The library basement was quiet, smelling of old paper and dust. It was 2:00 AM, and I was on my third cup of black coffee. Spread across the large wooden table were three thick textbooks on advanced corporate finance, alongside Killian’s sleek silver laptop.

Killian didn't care that I had my own midterms to study for. He had thrown his syllabus at me three hours ago and told me he wanted a twenty-page research paper done by sunrise.

He wasn't even working. He was sitting across from me, his long legs stretched out under the table, his boots resting on an empty chair. He was watching me. Not reading, not on his phone, just tracking every move of my pen, every blink of my eyes, like a hawk watching a mouse.

"You're staring," I muttered, not looking up from the screen.

"You're rewriting my thesis wrong," Killian replied, his voice a low purr in the empty basement.

"I have a 4.0 GPA, Killian. I know how to write an economic analysis," I snapped, finally glaring at him.

"I don't care about your GPA," he said, dropping his legs to the floor and leaning across the table. The shift in his weight made the wood creak. "I care about your focus. Your phone keeps buzzing. Turn it off."

"It's Winter and Mila," I said, glancing at the screen. Ten missed texts. They were worried about where I had gone after the party. "They will think I'm missing."

Killian reached across the table, his long fingers snatching my phone before I could grab it.

"Give it back!" I whispered, half-rising from my chair.

"No distractions," Killian said smoothly, dropping my phone into his jacket pocket. "Your friends don't need to know where you are. For the next month, your only priority is me."

"You're a monster," I whispered, anger burning hot in my chest.

"I'm your boss," he corrected, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He stood up and walked around the table, stopping right behind my chair. He leaned over my shoulder, his chest brushing against my back. The sudden physical proximity made my breath hitch. He reached past me, his large hand wrapping over mine on the laptop mouse.

His hand was warm now, heavy and strong. "Section three is weak. Fix the market analytics."

I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. I could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of his cologne filling my lungs. It was a bizarre twisted contrast, his actions were cruel, but his physical presence felt overwhelmingly intoxicating. For a terrifying split second, I didn't want him to move away.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "You have all the money in the world. You could hire anyone to do your work. Why me?"

Killian stopped moving the mouse. His breath was hot against my neck, sending a shiver straight down my spine. "Because the others are boring, Hazel. They bow down the second I look at them. But you... you have that fire in your eyes. The same fire you had when you slapped me back in London.”

He leaned closer, his lips almost touching my skin. "I like watching you fight me. It makes it much more fun when I finally break you."

I pulled away, shaking. "I'm never going to break."

"We'll see," he murmured.

“What do I have to do for you to leave me alone? It’s been years killian.” My eyes shimmered with tears.

“Why are you asking a question you already have the answer to?”

“I’ve never done anything to you. Why me?” My voice breaks down with tears I’m fighting to hold.

“I used to imagine this. Not the blackmail, that part’s just logistics.” His thumb traced down the side of my face, slowly. “I imagined you across a table from me, exhausted, furious, with nowhere left to run. I didn’t think it would feel this good to finally have it but it does. People think I’m cruel because I enjoy it.” He tilted his head, studying me like I was something under glass. “I’m not cruel. I’m patient. There’s a difference. Cruelty is impulsive and you hazel, you caught my attention since high school, there’s always a thrill when I see you and I won’t let the feeling go.”

straightening up and walking back to his chair, he said. "You have four hours left. Get back to work."

By 6:00 AM, the paper was finished. My eyes were bloodshot, and my head throbbed. I packed my bag, my movements sluggish. Killian stood up, tossing my phone back onto the table.

"Tonight, 9:00 PM. My dorm," he commanded, turning on his heel and walking out of the library without a single word of thanks.

I collapsed back into my chair, gripping my phone.

My hands hovered over winter’s name before I finally typed something back.

Me: I’m okay. Long night. Will explain later.

The reply came instantly.

Winter: Later?? Hazel it’s 6am. Where the hell have you been

Mila: we were about to call campus security

Me: I’m fine I promise. Just stressed about classes. I promise to explain everything later at the dorm.

Winter: that’s a lie and we both know it.

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keys. I wanted to tell them everything, the garage, the contract, the video sitting somewhere on Killian’s phone, But if I told them, they’d try to help. And helping me would mean getting in Killian Blackwood’s way. I wasn’t going to let that happen to them too.

Mila: you better explain yourself woman

Winter: if you’re not at the dorm now I’m hunting you down myself

I set the phone down and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, exhaustion pulling at every part of me.

When I opened my messages again, my heart dropped.

It wasn’t just Winter and Mila who had texted me. There was a new, anonymous message on the campus forum.

‘The freshman girl from the party belongs to the bikers now.’

The trap was tightening, and I was sinking deeper into the quicksand.