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Chapter 47: Brianna's Birthday
Last Updated:
2025-08-10 19:19:56
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Professor Lucien Chapter 49: Dirty Mind
Sofia's PovBaby Slut. Stay away from Lucien.Each letter seems to crawl closer, squeezing the air out of me.My eyes burn, vision swimming.The words don’t move.Unknown number.They know.Him.Me.No—My thumb fumbles for the call button. Straight to “unavailable.”My mind won’t stay still—flashes of the last incident with Mom, the gossips, the whispers. My chest aches in that same old way, the kind that feels like it might crack me open from the inside. Even an hour later, it’s still replaying in my head, wrapping tighter with each beat of my pulse.Mia and Keira’s chatter fades into meaningless noise.This can’t happen. Not again. I can’t be dragged into another mess.The class falls silent when a figure steps through the doorway, the shift in the room so sudden it sends my pulse spiking in my ears.Professor Lucien’s gaze sweeps the room, slow and deliberate, like he’s counting every breath we take.“Put away all materials related to my subject immediately, and bring out your wri
Professor Lucien Chapter 48: Baby Slut
Sofia's Pov “Wait—let’s spell the name ‘Brianna,’ and as we scream the last letter, ‘A,’ you cut, understood?” the MC asked.Brianna beamed, doing a little dance. “Got it.” Her eyes sparkled at the cake—white frosting, Happy Birthday Princess piped like perfection.“So, you’ll blow out those candles after making a wish,” the MC added.Brianna shut her eyes, breathed out, and blew them away in one soft puff.“What did you wish for?” the MC teased.“That’s a secret.” Brianna laughed, and Mom joined in with a smile beside her.“Okay, let’s go,” the MC announced.The MC counted down. “B-R-I-A-N-N-A!” Cheers rose as Brianna sliced the cake.“Hip hip hurray!” echoed—hollow in my ears.Mom’s fingers entwinines with Brianna’s as she guides her toward the guest table.Their laughter followed, wrapping them in a world I didn’t belong to.Tasha—the woman who looked like a waitress—paused in front of me“Have you been standing here the whole time?” she asked, voice low but edged with suspicion.
Professor Lucien Chapter 47: Brianna's Birthday
Sofia's Pov Professor Lucien is… something else. My face still burns remembering how I threw myself at him—only for him to turn me down. Embarrassing? Absolutely. But he wasn’t cruel about it. Which, annoyingly, makes him harder to hate.I push the door open, still caught in that haze—then stop cold. Grandma is lying face-down on the floor."Grandma!" My bag hits the floor as I drop to my knees, hands on her frail shoulders."Sofia…" she whispers, her fingers trembling in mine."What happened? Should I call an ambulance—or Mom?"I help her onto the couch, my heart pounding."Oh, don’t bother, child. I slipped and fell. I was… too sore to stand, that’s all.""Ooh, Grandma." My chest tightens—if I’d just come home earlier… "We should go to the hospital. Or at least call Mom to take you for a checkup."She brushes at the dust clinging to her sleeves, eyes avoiding mine. I catch the faint tremor in her fingers and the way she shifts uncomfortably, like she’s hiding pain. "Don’t trouble y
Professor Lucien Chapter 46: Goodbye Past
Lucien's Pov His words don’t make sense.“I don’t know why you hate Camille so much, but at least give her some respect,” I snap, my patience worn thin. “Why would you even suggest she broke into her own house? We buried her, Michael. We saw her.”My head throbs. I rub my temple, trying to breathe through the tightness in my chest. “She’s gone.”Michael doesn’t even flinch. He strides to the cabinet and grabs my laptop.“Do you remember during the funeral,” he says, flipping it open, “we installed that CCTV camera outside? For security. No one knew about it. Your password?”I hesitate, jaw clenched, then slide the laptop to him anyway. He inserts the flash drive.“What are you saying now?” I ask, irritation rising. “That Camille rose from the dead to break into her house? Really, Michael?”“Watch this.”The footage is dark, grainy. A figure in a hoodie drops from the back window. Just that—no face, no real clues, just movement and shadows.“Let me zoom in,” Michael mutters, leaning c
Professor Lucien Chapter 45: Control
Lucien's Pov God.Every thought slips out of my mind, replaced by her face, staring up at me.“Professor Lucien, I never knew you had restraint. Why are you counting?”Her fingers graze the shell of my ear, and my whole body shudders. Her lips inch closer.“Isn’t five seconds too long?”Her voice trembles, but she’s trying not to break eye contact.And that’s when it hits me—how dark I’ve made her become.I yank myself away, stepping back.The warmth disappears with her, and all that’s left is my racing heart.“You should stop,” I warn.“Stop? Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” she whispers.What I’ve always wanted?I thought it was...“Why are you acting like a child now, Professor? Or is this a game? Get me high… then leave me hanging?”Her voice cracks.I close my eyes, exhaling slowly. “Professor Lucien…”“Stop it.” I snap, harsher than I intended. “You have the whole world to explore, Sofia. Happiness. Adventure. But if you let this bitter version of yourself grow, you’ll lo
Professor Lucien Chapter 44: Five Seconds To Fall
"You were crying..." he breathes, just as my fingers tangle in his hair. "Does it have something to do with me?" His hair is too soft. Too easy to touch. I drag my fingers deeper into his scalp. The scent of his cologne wraps around me—sharp, dark, addictive. My heart hammers. "Why would you think you made me cry?" "I made you do things you didn’t want to do. Disgusting things." His eyes shut, heavy with guilt. "I’m sorry." I laugh—quiet and bitter. "Your guilt showed up right after a fight with your girlfriend? How convenient." I tug his hair, deliberately. His lips part. A breath escapes him. God—how can someone look this good? Those stormy gray eyes could ruin me. God help me—I don’t stop. "Sofia..." His voice is strained. "I thought it was Miss Carson now," I murmur, letting my nails graze his scalp. He melts under my hands. His tension slips away. His lips twitch. “You sound jealous.” "I’m not," I lie—heat still curling in my chest. “She’s not my
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