007: The Ultimatum

~Elena’s POV~

“She’s not my student.”

The lie comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. “I’m his girlfriend.”

Torres’s eyebrows rise. Mateo’s hand finds the small of my back, warning or support, I can’t tell.

“Your girlfriend.” Torres doesn’t sound convinced. “Yet I’ve seen you on campus, Miss Vega. In the physics building.”

“I audit his class sometimes. For interest.” I step forward, forcing confidence I don’t feel. “We met off campus. The relationship has nothing to do with the university.”

“I see.” Torres crosses his arms. “And does the administration know about this relationship?”

“It’s personal,” Mateo says. “Not university business.”

“Everything is university business when it involves faculty and students, Professor Sandoval.”

Torres glances at his watch. “Particularly when said faculty member is currently under investigation for inappropriate conduct.”

I feel sick immediately. “How do you know about that?”

“I’m on the ethics committee. I received the complaint filing this afternoon.” His gaze sharpens. “From a David Chen. Your ex-boyfriend, I believe, Miss Vega?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“David is lying,” I say. “He’s trying to sabotage…”

“What I heard through that wall suggests Mr. Chen’s complaint has merit.”

Torres steps back toward his door. “I’m giving you both until eight AM to report yourselves to Dean Morrison. Full disclosure. If you don’t, I will.”

“Dr. Torres, please…” Mateo starts.

“Eight AM, Professor. Use the time wisely.”

The door closes. The lock clicks.

I’m shaking. Mateo guides me back into his apartment, shuts his door.

“Eight hours,” I whisper. “We have eight hours before…”

“You need to leave Barcelona.” He’s already moving to his desk, pulling out his wallet. “Tonight. I’ll give you money. Go to Madrid, stay with friends…”

“Are you insane?”

“Running makes you look guilty…”

“I am guilty!” I grab his wrist, stopping him from counting out bills. “We both are. Running doesn’t change that.”

“Then what do you suggest?” His voice rises. “We walk into Morrison’s office and confess? You lose your degree, I lose my career, and for what?”

“For the truth!”

“The truth destroys you, Elena. Don’t you understand that?” He pulls free, paces across his living room. “You are twenty-four. You have your entire life ahead of you. I’m forty-three. I’ve had my career. I can survive this, you can’t.”

“Stop deciding what I can survive.”

“Someone has to think rationally…”

“Rational?” I laugh, sharp and bitter. “Nothing about this is rational. We fucked in a hotel. We fucked in your office. We just fucked against your front door knowing your neighbor could hear every sound.” I close the distance between us. “We’re past rational, Mateo.”

He stares at me.

“Tell me something,” I say quietly. “Did you mean it? What you said while you were inside me?”

“Elena…”

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

He stays silent. Then: “Yes.”

His confirmation surprises me.

“Then stop trying to save me.” I reach up, cup his face. “Stop trying to be the noble professor who takes all the blame. I’m not some naive student who got seduced. I knew what I was doing. Every single time.”

“You shouldn’t have had to make that choice…”

“But I did. And I’d make it again.” I pull his mouth down to mine. “Even knowing how it ends.”

He kisses me hard, desperately. His hands are in my hair, on my back, everywhere at once.

“This doesn’t solve anything,” he murmurs against my lips.

“I know.”

“We still have to face Morrison in the morning.”

“I know.”

“They’ll destroy us.”

“Then let’s give them something worth destroying us for.”

I start unbuttoning his shirt. He catches my hands.

“Elena. We need to think. We need a plan…”

“I’m done thinking.” I pull his shirt open. “I’m done being careful. I want you. Now.”

He groans. “You’re going to ruin me.”

“You’re already ruined.”

That breaks his restraint. He lifts me to his bedroom. We strip fast, hands clumsy with urgency. When he lays me on his bed, everything slows.

“Look at me,” he says.

I do.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, whatever they do to us, this is real.”

His hand traces my face, my throat, between my breasts. “You’re real, this isn’t just sex anymore, Elena. You understand that?”

“I understand.”

He enters me slowly this time. Gentle. His forehead pressed to mine, our breath mingling.

“I love you,” he says again. Clearer now, more certain. “I love you, and I’m sorry that loving you is going to cost you everything.”

I wrap my legs around him, pull him deeper. “Then make it worth the cost.”

We move together, slow, intense, worlds away from the frantic coupling against his door. This is different. This is devastating.

When we finish, we lie tangled together in his sheets. His alarm clock reads 12:47 AM. Seven hours and thirteen minutes until Torres calls Morrison.

My phone buzzes on his nightstand. Text message. Unknown number.

I grab it, read.

My entire body goes cold.

“What is it?” Mateo leans over, looks at the screen.

The text contains three photos. All from Tuesday afternoon. Taken through Mateo’s office window from the building across the courtyard. Time-stamped. Crystal clear images of him fingering me on his desk.

Below the photos: *I want an A in your class and a recommendation letter. You have until tomorrow to decide. -Rebecca*