ログイン“Raven!” I glance over my shoulder at Evee. Her dark eyes are wide, pleading, and her lips press together in that familiar mix of worry and excitement. She’s staring at the five drink orders in front of her, hands poised on the tray like she’s ready to fly. Behind her, the kitchen buzzes: two tables’ meals are ready, dishes steaming and waiting, all depending on me. I force a wide, fake smile that I hope passes for confidence. “Can I get you guys anything to drink?” The group falls silent. Every pair of eyes immediately snaps to Mr. Madden first. Are they seriously waiting for him? “Red wine,” he says. “The best you have.” He doesn’t even look at me. His attention stays fixed on his phone, thumb moving with quick precision, like whatever’s on that screen matters more than the room around him. “Same,” one of the others says. Then another. A chain of agreement, effortless. “Shall I bring the bottle?” I ask, already knowing the answer. “Yes,” Liam cuts in smoothly. “If you keep p
He walks in with a group of men behind him, and the instant his eyes land on me, it feels like the room tilts. And then I feel it—the way his gaze travels. Not to my face, not to my eyes, but lower. Down to my ass. My ass, barely covered by the leather mini skirt. He doesn't even look at me. He just looks straight down, as if drawn there. Fuck. I force myself to look away, to the group of boys in front of me, refusing to acknowledge him, refusing to acknowledge any of them. Unprofessional. Un-server-like. But my pulse is thundering in my ears, my mind screaming at me to disappear. This can't be happening. “And so I bought the orange Ferrari. What’s your favorite color, pretty?” One of the boys leans forward, grinning like he owns the world. Madden and his men walk past me, some of them laughing too loudly, the sound jarring in the dimly lit diner. They don't care that people are watching them. My fingers curl around the tray I’m holding, knuckles blanching. I fight the urge to
A flash of light suddenly explodes outside, and I scream before I can stop myself. My hand flies to my mouth, but the thunderclap straight afger detonates so close it feels like the sky itself is splitting. I flinch, heart hammering. Thunder. I hate thunder. I sprint to my desk and snatch my phone. Eight o’clock. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. My shift at the diner starts now. “Oh my god,” I whisper, stuffing everything into my bag with trembling fingers. My chair topples behind me with a deafening crash, but I don’t pause. I charge out of the library. Straight into the pouring rain. Rain lashes my face, soaking my hair and clothes in seconds. Thunder rattles through the air, vibrating the concrete beneath my boots, and my luck runs out—I step straight into a deep puddle that soaks me to the knees. I bite back a scream and sprint toward my red car. There's only one car left, and it's one right beside mine. Rain pelts my face, but through the rain, I can definitely see something. A
“He’s so intimidating,” Sam blurts the second we arrive back at Tessa, flopping into the chair like a man defeated by desire. “Who?” Tessa asks without looking up from her laptop, fingers still dancing across the keys. “Madden,” Sam replies, voice low and reverent. “He’s so… manly.” Tessa finally lifts her gaze. “Manly?” “Yeah,” Sam says, leaning back, chest puffed slightly. “Like he could fuck your brains out five times a day and still take you out for dinner afterward. A real man.” “Jesus, Sam,” I groan, the image searing itself into my mind. “Will you calm down? We’re in a library and he could hear you right now.” Tessa leans back, smirk curling her lips. “Well… he’s right. That man looks like he has stamina. Have you seen that body? There’s no way he’s a one-and-done kind of guy. He looks… thorough.” Sam sighs, exaggeratedly disappointed. “Thorough and completely straight, unfortunately.” I pat his arm lovingly. “Your time will come. Did the security guard message you at a
“You scared me,” I breathe out, chest pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. A half-smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It’s just enough to make my pulse spike. Like he enjoys the effect he has on me. My phone screen goes black. All light vanishes. I freeze for a moment, realisation crashing over me. We shouldn’t be here. We're just a student and a teacher in a public library—but it feels different. Electric. Dangerous. Dark. “What are you doing here?” I whisper. Why am I whispering? Why does it feel like we shouldn't be seen here? I glance up at him. In this narrow aisle, surrounded by towering shelves, he looks impossibly tall, almost predatory. He blends into the shadows, the old books, like some creature of the night—daunting, frightening, but magnetic. He steps closer, almost brushing my shoulder, and slides a book into the shelf right by my head. My breath catches. “This is the criminology section,” he murmurs, voice low, a velvet rumble in the silence. He
We replay the footage. 1 p.m., the rush of students flooding the hallway, lockers clanging, sneakers squeaking, hundreds of bodies moving like a river—and then, black. Blank. Empty. Nothing. “Someone deleted it,” the guard mutters, his deep voice sharp with frustration. My breathing picks up, fast and shallow. Sam turns to me, concern written across his face. “Who? Who has access to the cameras?” Tessa asks, her voice sharp but tinged with fear as she looks at me. “I do,” the guard replies, eyes locking on mine. “I’m the only one with access. Nobody else. Everybody has to go through me.” My skin prickles. A cold shiver crawls down my spine. He turns back to the screen, voice low, dangerous. “This was done from inside this room. Someone must’ve broken in after hours. I will find them. Nobody goes through my work without my permission.” I don't hear anything anymore. I shake my head. “Someone is after me… someone is following me… stalking me.” Sam grabs my arms, gentle but fi
“Fuck!” My hand slams against the printer, a sharp crack echoing in the empty reception area. Why isn’t it working?! The screen flashes some cryptic error I’ve never seen before, and my card keeps getting rejected. My chest tightens, each heartbeat like a hammer against my ribs. I check my watch
Mr. Madden looks up with a faintly bored expression. For a split second I swear his eyes snap to me first, but I must be imagining it, because his attention settles on Sam almost immediately.“Sam,” he says calmly.I silently praise him for remembering Sam’s name.We stop right in front of his desk
He clicks on a button of his laptop and the grading rubric appears on the board.“You’ll start with the case summary,” Mr. Madden says. “The victims, the location and time frames of the murders, key characteristics of the offender’s behavior, and the known details about the social and economic envi
He’s talking to Nick when we enter the classroom.Several students are already seated, but nobody seems interested in their books. Every pair of eyes is fixed on the front of the room, where our new hot teacher stands behind his desk with his arms crossed.Mr. Madden.He doesn’t look up when we wal







