“Your test has been rescheduled for Friday. Class dismissed.”I stack my notes, ignoring the predictable wave of groans.It’s been off the schedule since last week. They just need something to whine about.I glance up.Sofia.Caked makeup. Tired eyes. The kind of tired sleep doesn’t fix.After Saturday, I’m not surprised.“Goodbye, Professor,” Ivy says, walking past with a smirk and her usual entourage.I nod once.Then her eyes lift—right into mine.Steady. Unapologetic.It shoots through me. Quick. Hot. Wrong.She rolls her eyes a second later, like that look never happened. Like I imagined it.I didn’t.She rolls her eyes and turns to her friends, pretending to listen. Pretending she didn’t just wreck my composure with a single look.“Goodbye, Professor,” another group chimes as they pass.“Till tomorrow,” a girl giggles.I don’t answer. Just slow my movements enough to scan the room.That’s when I catch Sofia’s lips move.“Let’s go,” she mouths to her friends.They grab their bags
“Would you come out already so we can see the dress?” Mom snaps from outside the changing room. Her voice, clipped and impatient, slices right through the curtain.I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair as I stare at the mirror. What kind of joke is this dress?I turn, trying to see the back. The fabric hugs my chest and hips like it’s trying to expose every flaw. I look… round. Not in the flattering way. The zipper strains a little when I move, and the neckline—God, the choker-style collar feels like it’s trying to strangle me into elegance. This dress isn’t me. Not even close. It’s her idea of who I should be.I shift again and exhale—barely. “She got my measurements wrong,” I mutter.“Sofia!” Mom snaps from outside. “Do I have to come in there and drag you out?”Wouldn’t put it past her.I clench my jaw and breathe—barely. My lungs are being crushed by overpriced fabric, and the collar around my neck feels more like a leash than a fashion choice.Still, I unlock the door and step
“Coming,” I groan, wincing as the pounding in my head threatens to split it open.That’s what I get for sleeping late and waking up barely past six.“Grandma?” I call out, slipping on my flip-flops and dragging myself to the door.I open the door slowly. Mom’s standing there in full makeup and heels—at 7 a.m. Like she’s headed to a photoshoot, not her daughter’s bedroom.“You’re not dressed,” she says flatly, like I’ve offended her personally.“Good morning to you too,” I mutter, leaning against the doorframe.“We have fittings. You forgot, didn’t you?”No good morning. No how did you sleep. No happy Saturday, honey.“Me and you?” I blink.“Yes. I texted you last night—Brianna’s birthday party. I need to buy you something decent that actually fits the theme.”“Mom.” I groan. “You show up at my door at 6 a.m. just to drag me on a shopping spree… for Brianna’s birthday?”“What’s wrong with that?”“I have things to do. I manage my time—something you don’t seem to understand.”She always
She dragged her eyes up to meet mine—slow, deliberate—and I stilled. Her knees were on the floor. Palms spread gently beside them, like an offering. Obedient. Composed. Too composed. Like she was waiting to be told. “Come here.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Low. Rough. A command wrapped in need. She smiled. “Okay… Professor Lucien.” She said it slowly. Like a dare. Like she knew exactly what that name did to me. Then she crawled. One knee forward. Then the other. Her hips swayed just enough to make it unbearable. Deliberate. Controlled. Like she wasn’t obeying. Like I was. Her palms kissed the floor, fingers splayed. Graceful. Feline. Dangerous. “Closer,” I heard myself whisper. She tilted her head, lashes lowered like a curtain over something wicked. “Is this how you imagined it, Professor?” I hadn’t. I wouldn’t. But now I’d never imagine anything else. She inched closer—close enough that I could feel her breath ghosting across my skin. And that
Sofia Pov Flashback Mia's Apartment. "Shouldn’t we be getting ready for the party?" Kiera asks, watching Mia lying face-down on the bed, nose buried in a book. "We still have over an hour," Mia groans, barely glancing up. "I’m not trying to show up with the first-rounders." I walk over and climb onto the bed beside her. "What are you reading?" "Seriously, Sofia?" Kiera scoffs. "Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed her obsessing over that book all week. You think you’re going to seduce Leo with those tricks?" "Hush, Kiera." Mia throws her a disapproving glare. "Believing is key." My eyes wander to the pages. Chapter Four: Make Them Kneel Without Touching Them Something tightens in my chest. Curiosity. Quiet. Creeping. The kind that doesn’t knock before entering. Mia flips the page with a sigh, totally engrossed. “This one’s good,” she mutters. “This chapter alone is worth the price.” “Let me see.” I tilt my head, catching a line: “Guilt is a powerful leas
Her lips are still parted.She blinks once. Slowly. Then again.Her fingers lift to her mouth, hesitant. Like her brain hasn’t caught up yet. Like she could still undo the kiss. Erase the heat of it.Her breath catches. Skips. Like her lungs forgot how to work.“Oh my God,” she whispers. Not wonder. Not pleasure. Revulsion.The kind that guts you from the inside out.Like I’m the shame she can’t scrub off.I don’t move.My chest won’t move. Not even for air.“Sofia…” I take a step toward her.But the look she gives me stops me cold.Not fear.Horror.She flinches.Steps back like the very air between us has turned poisonous.Her fingers press harder to her lips. “No, no, no…”Her voice is barely a whisper. But her eyes—glazed, distant, like she’s trying to retreat from her own skin—cut straight through me.“Sofia—”“Sofia—”“Why did I come?” she cuts in, eyes wide, unfocused. “Why the hell did I even come?”She lets out a bitter laugh—sharp and self-directed.“I knew you’d pull somet