Secret Affair With My Professor

Julian Harrison sat in the wide leather chair in his father’s office, his legs stretched out, tapping his shoe against the shiny floor. He hated this office. The heavy wooden shelves, the tall curtains, the smell of old books and cigar smoke. It all felt like the kind of place made for orders, not for living.

His father sat behind the large desk, glasses on, flipping through some papers. He didn’t look at Julian as he spoke, and that made the words sting more.

“You failed the course again.” His father’s tone was calm but sharp. “If you fail it once more, you will not graduate on time. You will spend another year in school. I will not allow it.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “It’s not that serious. People fail all the time.”

His father finally looked up. His grey eyes were hard, cold. “Not my son. You are a Harrison. We do not fail. Next year should be your final year in college. You should be preparing to take your seat in the company. Instead, you are playing games.”

Julian sat up straight. “Maybe I don’t want your company.”

“You don’t have a choice.” His father’s voice rose just a little, enough to make the air thick. “I built everything with my hands. Do you think I will let my only son throw it away because he wants to party and drink?”

Julian pressed his lips together. He wanted to shout back, to tell him he had dreams of his own, but what was the point? His father never listened.

“Which course was it again?” his father asked, already knowing the answer.

“Economics,” Julian muttered.

His father slammed the desk with his palm, making Julian jump. “Economics is the foundation of this family. If you cannot pass that, how will you ever handle real business?”

Julian shrugged. “Maybe I won’t.”

The silence after that was heavy. His father leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses. His face looked older, but his eyes burned with control.

“I have made arrangements,” he said finally.

Julian sighed. “Here we go again.”

“I hired a new tutor,” his father continued, ignoring him. “A professor. Young, brilliant, dedicated. His name is Aiden Cole. He will work with you privately until you pass.”

Julian laughed. “Another babysitter? Don’t you ever get tired of this? The last three quit because I ‘wasn’t serious.’ Maybe take the hint.”

His father’s jaw tightened. “This one will not quit. I made sure of it. If you drive him away, Julian, I swear...”

A knock came at the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

The door opened, and a tall man stepped inside. Brown hair, neat suit, clean shoes. He looked young, maybe not much older than Julian, but carried himself with quiet confidence. His hazel eyes moved across the room, sharp but calm.

“Mr. Harrison,” he said, shaking his father’s hand firmly. His voice was steady, not nervous. Then he turned to Julian. “And you must be Julian.”

Julian leaned back, smirking. “Depends on who’s asking.”

The man didn’t blink. “Aiden Cole. I’ll be your tutor.”

His father stood, adjusting his jacket. “I’ll leave you both to get started. Aiden, he has the schedule. Julian, you will take this seriously, or you will answer to me.”

The door shut, leaving silence behind. Julian tilted his head, studying the man. Aiden placed his bag on the desk and opened it calmly.

“So,” Julian said, his tone mocking, “you’re the genius who thinks he can fix me.”

Aiden pulled out a notebook. “Not fix. Teach. The fixing is up to you.”

Julian raised a brow. “You don’t strike me as someone who lasts long. Did my father tell you I’m impossible?”

“He did.” Aiden began writing something in his notebook. His handwriting was neat, steady. “But impossible usually means stubborn. And stubbornness can be redirected.”

Julian laughed, but it sounded more like a challenge. “Redirected? You think you’re going to redirect me?”

“If you want to pass, yes.”

Julian sat up, his smirk fading into something sharper. “And if I decide to make you quit?”

Aiden finally looked up, his hazel eyes steady. “Then you’ll only prove that you’re afraid of trying.”

Julian froze for a second. His chest tightened, though he hid it with another smirk. “Afraid? You don’t know me.”

“Not yet,” Aiden said. “But I will.”

The clock ticked on the wall, filling the silence. Julian hated how calm Aiden was. Tutors usually begged, yelled, or gave up. This one wasn’t giving him anything to push against.

“Fine,” Julian muttered. “Show me what you’ve got, Professor.”

Aiden closed his notebook. “I’ll last as long as it takes for you to learn. What you do after that is your choice.”

Julian clenched his jaw, staring at him. For the first time, he wasn’t sure if he would win this game. And that thought annoyed him more than anything else.