Chapter 7: Visit

For a second, I'm lost. I sigh as the memory of what I said earlier comes back—how I sexualized Isla in front of the boys. “Come on,” I say, trying to play it cool and calm my racing heart. “You secretly loved it.”

 

Her mouth falls open in disbelief as she hugs the towel tighter around her body. “You said we shower together! We’ve never even done that!”

 

I grin at the memory of the looks on their faces. Intense desire and jealousy. “Doesn’t matter. They believe everything they hear. Plus, Daniel probably has ten times more respect from the other doms now.”

 

I step into the bathroom, eager to wash this day off me.

 

“Don’t call him by his name, Dani, I don’t like that,” Isla mumbles, poking her head into the bathroom. Her cheeks are red as she averts her gaze the second I peel my top off. She’s always shy about nudity—even between girls. It’s endearing yet strange.

 

“Sorry, girl,” I say with a light laugh, brushing her off as I toss my top onto the floor. “Didn’t mean to upset you. Your Dom will cool down. It’s about being liked by them, right? And after tonight, they definitely like you a whole lot more.”

 

My bra is next. I fling it at her face, laughing as she squeals and jumps back, nearly tripping over herself.

 

Isla is adorable—sweet, modest, and still unsure how to handle my teasing. I live for these moments.

 

By the time my panties come off, she’s already fled back into the bedroom. I leave the bathroom door open and step into the shower, finally washing today off with my favorite vanilla and almond body scrub. It smells like home. Like comfort. Like something that still belongs to me in a world that doesn’t.

 

When I come back out, hair wet and towel wrapped around me, Isla is out cold—already snoring softly, her face turned into her pillow. That girl could sleep through a hurricane, so I don’t bother being quiet as I move around the room.

 

My fingers trail over my dresser, pausing over the sharp objects hidden inside. They call to me like an old friend. There’s a storm in my head tonight, the anxiety pressing down on my ribs, and part of me craves that release. Something to silence the noise. I need the stillness of them.

 

But not with Isla here. Not when she could wake up. She wouldn't understand. Wouldn't understand my pain, and how I deal with it.

 

I pick up my brush instead and drag it slowly through my wet hair. The repetitive motion helps a little. I focus on that. Just breathe. Just—

 

A knock at the door jerks me out of my trance.

 

My eyes flick to the mirror, brows knitting. Who the hell could that be this late? A girl from down the hall? Isla’s Dom?

 

Probably not the latter. It's too late for a dom to visit his sub.

 

Still holding the brush, I walk barefoot across the marble floor and swing the door open—

 

And freeze.

 

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

 

Aiden. Fucking. Abbott.

 

He’s leaning against the doorframe like he owns the building, a lazy smirk curling his lips. His eyes sweep over me—slow, hungry, deliberate. I’m still wrapped in nothing but a pink towel, my skin still glistening from the shower, and the air suddenly feels colder. I'm too stunned to react. 

 

He shouldn’t be here.

He’s not allowed to be here.

He’s not allowed to see me like this.

 

“The untouchable,” he murmurs, like he’s toasting to a secret joke only he understands.

 

My lips part in shock. He notices immediately, his smirk stretching wider.

 

“Aiden,” I manage, swallowing the disbelief.

 

Is he here to take revenge?

I swallow.

 

He straightens slightly, eyes sharpening. “Do not ever call me by my first name again. You do not have that right.”

 

My grip tightens on the towel. “What do you want me to call you?”

 

“‘Sir’ would be a good start,” he says, eyes narrowing.

 

“You’re not my—”

 

“Henry is about to drop his current submissive,” Aiden cuts me off, sharp and precise, “to claim you. He’s won the fight with the other boys. You’re his prize.”

 

The words hit me like ice water.

 

“What?” I whisper, my voice dry. “No.”

 

“He’ll be here in—” Aiden glances at his watch, “—eight hours. Right before your deadline. The whole school already knows. You’re about to be his.” His posture is relaxed, confident, his muscles on show like he wants me to see them. He's still in his black suit from teaching.

 

“No.” My voice cracks, but I force it out stronger. “You’re lying.”

 

He rolls his eyes, unimpressed.

 

“I don’t lie,” he says flatly. “It's a good thing Henry took something from me. It's a good thing I love revenge, no matter the cost. I love taking something from him, now.”

 

I blink, reeling. “You… what are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying I will be your dominant.”

 

The sentence slams into me. It echoes in the room like a bomb going off.

 

I’ve heard those words before. From other boys, from would-be doms clawing for power. But never from him. Never from Aiden Abbott.

 

And never like this—dripping with threat and control.

 

“I don’t want a dominant,” I snap, lifting my chin.

 

I’m already halfway to slamming the door in his face.

 

He takes a step forward, his presence swallowing the air around me. “I do not care for your desires, or your needs, Danika. You’ll be mine—whether you like it or not. You’ll help me avenge Henry. And I’ll train you into the submissive you’re meant to be. The bratty one you are.”

 

“You’re a teacher!” I bark back, desperation crawling in my throat. “That’s forbidden!”

 

“Not full-time,” he replies coolly.

 

“So the rules don’t apply to you?” I throw back.

 

“No rules apply to me.”

 

His confidence is maddening. It drips off him like heat, thick and undeniable.

 

“You’re so fucking arrogant,” I hiss.

 

“I can’t wait to beat that attitude out of you,” he says, voice tight with restrained fire. His control slips just an inch. He's surprisingly calm.

 

“Good luck trying.” I bite back as taunt.

 

Instead, he smirks. “I do love a challenge.”

 

I stare at him, chest heaving. “Is that all I am to you? A challenge? Why not pick someone easier? Emma’s right there. You could steal her—”

 

“Do you think I want a bratty submissive?” he interrupts. “I hate disobedience. I live for structure, control. But touching the untouchable?” His eyes drag down my half naked body again, making my breath hitch. “That’s a prize worth claiming. And Henry wants you. Like every other dominant here. But I’m going to have you.”

 

“No,” I say again, this time louder.

 

His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t lash out. That scares me more. He’s calculating. Patient. He’s saving his rage.

 

Saying No to a dominant is worthy of capital punishment.

 

“Or would you rather be on your knees while Henry jerks off on you like you’re a toy? Because I can’t promise he won’t share you. Just to show everybody how much power he has. You know him better than that.”

 

My stomach drops. A tiny gasp escapes me. He knows what I witnessed. He saw.

 

“You followed me,” I whisper.

 

He doesn’t deny it.

 

“And you won’t? Share me?” I ask, voice trembling.

 

“Only I will touch you,” Aiden says, eyes glinting with something wild. “That’s a promise.”

 

I hesitate.

 

I don't want Henry. I genuinely fear for my life around him, and I don't want an adult toddler who throws tantrums to call me his.

 

But I don't want Aiden, either. Because Aiden is dangerous in a whole different way, especially when there's a side to him that lures me in, like a prey.

 

He’s not just powerful—he’s magnetic. Dominant. And somewhere in that dark intensity, there’s something I’m afraid I’ll crave.

 

Something every girl here seems to crave.

 

And that makes this dangerous for me. He commands attention just by existing. And if I agree to this, I won’t just be submitting—I’ll be surrendering to something I may never get back from.

 

“I’m your best option,” he says quietly. “And you don’t have a choice. You're going to be my submissive.”

 

I look up at him, knowing I can't say much back. I need a dominant. I have no choice.

 

My silence must say everything, because his eyes glint with satisfaction. “We’ll inform the headmaster in the morning. I’ll pick you up.”

 

He leans in—close enough that I stop breathing. It's the closest I've ever been to a male. His scent, warm and musky, fills the space between us. He looks at me like he already owns me. He looks at me with nothing but dominance and control.

 

“After that, you’re getting your very first spanking,” he whispers in a voice that makes my skin prickle.

 

I gasp. His gaze drops to my lips like he’s about to kiss me—

 

And then, just like that, he’s gone.