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Chapter 56: Hotel
publish date:
2026-08-05 00:04:48
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My professor, my stalker Chapter 60: Meeting
He slows, then stops in front of another group. The men are already mid-laughter, the kind that carries—rich, unrestrained, echoing slightly above the music. It cuts off the moment they notice the man I'm with. Their expressions shift seamlessly into polite interest, like a switch has been flipped. “Tristan,” one of them greets, nodding in acknowledgment. There’s a woman among them. She’s the only one who doesn’t immediately mask her reaction. Her eyes widen the second they land on him, recognition flashing across her face, sharp and unmistakable. It lingers just long enough to be noticed—before it smooths into something more controlled. “This is Raven,” Tristan says, his voice calm, measured. His hand remains firm at my waist, fingers pressing slightly into my side as if to anchor me there. Or present me. “She’s interested in criminal psychology.” Every gaze shifts to me. Assesses. Measures. It should make me uncomfortable. Instead, something in me straightens. “Then you’re
My professor, my stalker Chapter 59: Touchy
His three friends turn to me almost in unison, their attention shifting with a sharpness that makes me feel momentarily assessed, weighed. The one who had laughed earlier steps forward first, extending a glass of red wine toward me with an easy confidence that mirrors the man standing far too close at my side. “Tristan said you liked red,” he says, amusement flickering in his eyes like he’s already in on a joke I haven’t been told yet. I glance sideways at the man who's plastered against me and find him already looking at me. There’s something unreadable in his expression, something that lingers just a second too long. My eyebrow lifts before I can stop it, a silent question passing between us. Have you been talking about me? His gaze doesn’t waver. If anything, it darkens slightly, like he enjoys the implication. “I do,” I say instead, turning back as I take a sip. The wine is rich, heavier than anything I’m used to, the taste grounding me. “This is Matthew,” Mr. Madden says,
My professor, my stalker Chapter 58: Convention
“What if he’s there?” I ask aloud, my voice barely more than a whisper. I glance at myself in the long mirror, legs slightly lifted as Sam crouches before me, expertly fastening the straps of my expensive heels. Each ribbon winds carefully around my ankle, and he adjusts them with precision, making sure everything is symmetrical, perfect. “Then Mr. Madden will probably murder him,” Sam murmurs, eyes still down, focused on the strap. “For real. If he threatened an immigration officer just for looking at you…” Sam moves on to admire my freshly painted nails, then my hair, adjusting a stray curl here, a wave there, until the half-updo falls just right. He even places the small diamond raven at the back, sparkling faintly in the soft light—a gift he 'found' and insisted I wear tonight. My dress fits like a second skin. Black fabric hugs my waist, traces the seductive curve of my breasts, and dips low across my back. It reveals more than I usually show, but it doesn’t feel too sexy. I
My professor, my stalker Chapter 57: In the bag
“This is a suite,” Sam says the moment we step inside ou room, his voice filled with disbelief. “This is one hundred percent a suite. Look at the size of this room.” My gaze drifts slowly across the space, taking everything in piece by piece, like my mind needs time to process it all. The room is far larger than I expected—larger than any hotel room I’ve ever been in. A four-poster bed dominates the left side, its dark wood frame carved with intricate details, draped in deep red and gold sheets that look almost too luxurious to touch. The fabric catches the dim lighting, giving off a soft, warm sheen. Across from it sits a freestanding bathtub, positioned right beside a tall window that overlooks the narrow street below. The curtains are half drawn, letting in just enough of the outside world to remind me where we are—though it already feels far away. There’s a seating area near the fireplace, plush couches arranged in a way that invites you to sink into them and stay there for ho
My professor, my stalker Chapter 56: Hotel
The officer looks at me. Then at my passport. Then back at me again, slower this time, like he’s trying to peel something off my face that isn’t there. “I might have to take you to the back,” he says, voice low, deliberate. Something cold slides down my spine. My face falters before I can stop it. He’s built like a wall—broad shoulders, thick arms, weapons hanging off his belt proudly. Like he uses them. Like he enjoys it. His entire presence feels wrong, like standing too close to a storm you can’t outrun. But then he smiles a crooked smile, probably meant to soothe me, but my nerves skyrocket even more. Because it's a smile that lets me know that he means it in a flirty way. “Is there an issue?” A hand lands on my lower back. Firm. Warm. Possessive. The officer’s gaze drops to the contact, lingers there for a beat too long, then lifts again—sharper now, more alert. “You’re the teacher?” The hand disappears from my body. The officer hums, squaring his shoulders as if he’s ju
My professor, my stalker Chapter 55: Wake up
I wake to a flash. It cuts through the haze of sleep, sharp and intrusive, and my eyes blink open slowly, struggling to focus. For a second, everything is blurred—shapes, shadows, soft light filtering through the cabin—but then it settles. Sam is standing in front of me. Holding his phone. Pointed directly at me. Did he just take a picture of me? I frown, my brain still catching up, irritation flickering through the fog—and then it hits me. Oh. My stomach drops. I’m holding onto Mr. Madden’s arm like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded, my fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, nails half digging in. My head is pressed against his shoulder, tucked into the curve of him like I belong there. And he— He’s leaning into me. His head rests partly on top of mine, his breathing slow and even, deep in sleep. Mr. Madden is asleep. On me. We’re tangled together in a way that feels far too intimate. The armrest between us has been completely sacrificed, crushed under the wei
My professor, my stalker Chapter 5: Attention
Tessa sighs, like this whole drama is the worst inconvenience in the world. “Fine. Dead. Buried. He doesn’t exist. He probably has a small dick anyway.”Delilah narrows her eyes at us, her gaze landing squarely on Sam. “That includes you.”Sam raises his hands in surrender. “The man is dead to me,”
My professor, my stalker Chapter 4: Him
“I heard they hired some new teachers,” Delilah says as she opens her locker and tosses her books inside. “They did,” Tessa replies immediately. She leans back against the row of lockers with a knowing look. “And not just any teachers. I heard the new criminology professor is… a real treat for the
My professor, my stalker Chapter 3: A new start
Someone is watching me.Again.I sigh quietly at my own paranoia.This is what happens when you watch too many horror TikToks before bed. Suddenly every creaking floorboard becomes a ghost and every shadow turns into a lurking spirit waiting to drag you into the darkness.Still…The feeling won’t g
My professor, my stalker Chapter 2: Eyes
“Hey, pretty,” my sister says with an appraising smile as she tugs a strand of my long brown hair.“Hey,” I reply, stifling a yawn.The long nights are finally starting to catch up with me. It’s only a diner, but this place is known for staying open deep into the night. We get the late crowd. The a
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