Chapter 3- Ethan

Maya’s POV

I was genuinely confused by what had just transpired, but I brushed it off. Maybe she just didn’t want to get involved with the school board’s golden boy.

“Was she disturbing you? Because she’s known for always being extra,” Ethan said.

I gave him a subtle side-eye because he sounded incredibly condescending. I shouldn’t have cared, it wasn't like I liked Ms. Thorne, and she had literally just humiliated me in front of people but the sheer entitlement in Ethan's voice was irritating.

“Why do you have to talk down on everybody, Ethan?” I asked, pulling my shoulders back as we stepped out of the humanities block.

“I’m not talking down on her, babe. I’m just asking if she was giving you issues,” he replied smoothly, completely unbothered by my tone.

I wasn’t in the mood to drag this out with him, so I just zoned out. The heat was already rising from the concrete, and my head felt fuzzy from the lack of sleep on that miserable leather couch.

“Babe, are you good?” Ethan asked, his fingers squeezing my waist to get my attention.

I looked up at him, forcing a tiny smile onto my face, and nodded. I reached down and interlinked my arm with his.

He leaned down and pecked me on the lips, the faint scent of his expensive cologne and mints washing over me. I tried to lean into it, to force that fluttering sensation a girl is supposed to feel when her handsome, wealthy boyfriend kisses her. He was everything a girl in my social circle was supposed to want. He was smart, rich, and destined for a massive corporate legacy. My mother regularly reminded me how lucky I was to secure him before graduation.

“I am lucky,” I told myself, repeating the mantra like a script. “I am almost in love with him. I have to be.”

"Come on," Ethan said, guiding me toward the parking lot where he parked directly in a no-parking zone, completely unchallenged.

"The Dean is expecting us at the faculty dining club. Your dad called him this morning to make sure we were being looked after."

"My dad called the Dean?" A knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach. Even from a three-hour drive away, my family’s suffocating grip felt tight around my neck.

"Of course he did, Maya. It’s an election year," Ethan chuckled, opening the passenger side door for me with effortless chivalry. "Appearance is everything. He wanted to ensure his future son-in-law and daughter were getting the VIP treatment on campus."

I slid onto the leather seat, the cool air conditioning instantly blasting over my skin. As Ethan walked around to the driver's side, I stared at my reflection in the side mirror. I looked like a regular student in my baggy jeans and tank top, but the invisible golden leash around my neck was sparkling in the sunlight.

This entire university enrollment was supposed to be my temporary escape, a boundary I drew to breathe before the high-society wedding my parents were orchestrating. But with Ethan shifting gears beside me, I realized the cage had just moved locations.

The faculty dining club was located on the topmost floor of the grand alumni building, a restricted area. The Dean himself, a round man with a meticulously groomed mustache and eyes that constantly scanned the room for donors, was already waiting at a corner table.

"Ah, Ethan! Maya! Wonderful to see you," Dean Harrison boomed, standing up to shake Ethan’s hand with a deference that was almost embarrassing. He treated a twenty-one-year-old student like a visiting dignitary. "Please, sit. Your father sends his absolute best, Ethan. He mentioned the Sterling Foundation is finalizing the grant for the new library wing."

"He's very excited about it, sir," Ethan replied, smoothly pulling out my chair before taking his own seat. He fit into this world perfectly, speaking without a single stumble.

"And my father wanted me to personally thank you for looking into Maya's housing situation. There was a ridiculous system glitch."

"Oh, an absolute tragedy of an oversight," the Dean sighed, waving a hand dismissively as a waiter immediately poured sparkling water into our glasses. "The housing department is entirely understaffed this term. Rest assured, Miss Sloane, we are resolving it. I’ve already instructed the housing director to clear out a premium, private suite in the honors dorm. We might have to displace a standard student to make room, but exceptional circumstances require exceptional adjustments."

A wave of disgust rushed through me. I opened my mouth to say something but under the white tablecloth, Ethan’s hand found my knee. His fingers gripped me with a firm, warning pressure that instantly silenced me.

"That sounds perfect, Dean Harrison," Ethan said smoothly, his smile blinding. "Maya needs her space to study. We appreciate the quick turnaround."

For the rest of the luncheon, I barely tasted the expensive salmon on my plate. I sat quietly, nodding when necessary, watching Ethan effortlessly navigate the conversation.

The Dean hung on his every word, practically purring at the mention of the Sterling family's influence.

Seeing Ethan like this, so powerful and commanding, reminded me of why I had always clung to him.

“It’s a good life,” I argued with the rebellious voice inside my head. “Just let him handle it.”

When lunch finally concluded, Ethan drove me back to the campus quad, parking in the shade of the grand oak trees. He turned off the engine, turning in his seat to look at me.

"You were quiet during lunch, babe," he murmured, his hand reaching out to trace my jawline.

"Just tired," I lied, looking down at his crisp collar. "Class was exhausting."

"Yeah, that Thorne woman seemed like a real piece of work. Don't worry about her grades, anyway. If she gives you a hard time, I'll have my dad look into her faculty tenure," he said casually, as if ruining a lecturer's career was as simple as ordering a drink. He leaned in closer, his thumb tilting my chin up. "I missed you over the summer, Maya."

Before I could reply, his lips met mine. This time, the kiss was deeper, heavier, full of a demanding possessiveness that made my chest tighten.

I closed my eyes. I tangled my fingers in his hair, trying to drown out the lingering, frustrating echo of Ms. Thorne’s voice from earlier. I wanted Ethan to consume my thoughts.

I needed him to.

He pulled back slightly, breathing softly against my lips, a satisfied smirk on his face. "That's more like it. I'll call you tonight, okay? Don't stress about the apartment. You'll be out of that dump soon."

"Okay," I whispered.

I watched his car roar away, leaving a cloud of dust in the air. I stood on the pavement for a long moment, rubbing my arms as a sudden chill washed over me despite the afternoon heat.

By the time I dragged my feet back to the apartment, it was late in the evening. The campus was quiet, and the hallway of the lecturer’s wing was entirely deserted. I pressed my keycard against the reader, the little mechanism unlocking with a soft *click*.

The apartment was pitch-black.

A wave of relief washed over me as I stepped inside, dropping my heavy backpack onto the floor.

Thank God.

She wasn't home yet. I could finally have a few hours of absolute silence without her suffocating ice filling the room.

I walked into the dark kitchen, running a hand over my tired eyes, and reached for a glass from the drying rack. I turned to the water dispenser, desperate for a cold drink to wash away the lingering taste of Ethan's mints and high-society compliance.

Suddenly, the overhead fluorescent lights hummed violently to life, flooding the room with a harsh, blinding glare.

I gasped, nearly dropping my glass as I spun around.

Ms. Thorne was leaning against the far kitchen counter, a short glass of dark amber liquor held loosely in her hand. The crisp, ironed blazer and the ruthless, sleek bun from this morning were completely gone. Her ginger hair was down, falling in messy waves around her shoulders, and the top two buttons of her dark silk shirt were completely undone.

How she looked made me feel some type of way, but her expression was just as freezing as it had been in the lecture hall.

"Keep your leash on your boyfriend, Sloane," she said, her voice dropping into a low rasp that cut through the quiet apartment.

I bristled, my jaw tightening as the initial shock wore off.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. He lacks boundaries, and I lack patience," she said, taking a slow step towards me, radiating absolute authority.

"The next time he barges into my lecture hall like he owns the faculty, I won't just write him up for a code of conduct violation. I will have campus security bar him from the building entirely. I don't care whose son he is."

"Then why didn't you say any of that to his face?" I shot back, crossing my arms defensively, desperate to poke a single hole in her arrogant armor.

"You let him walk right in and pull me out. If you're so terrifying and full of rules, Ms. Thorne, why did you let a student boss you around in your own classroom?"

Diana stopped mere inches from me. The rich scent of vanilla, and bitter alcohol instantly filled the narrow space between us. Up close, I could see the slight flare of her nostrils, but her blue eyes remained dead.

"Because unlike you, Sloane, I actually understand the math of survival here," she whispered, her gaze cutting into me with a mocking sharpness that made me feel entirely transparent.

She set her glass down on the counter with a hard, echoing “clink”, turning her back to me as she walked toward the bedroom door.

"Do whatever you want with him outside these walls," her voice floated back.

"But if his shadow touches my classroom again, I will make sure you're packing your bags before sunrise."

“Great, everyone wants to move me around.” I said loud enough for her to hear.