Semua Bab Professor Lucien : Bab 31 - Bab 40

Sofia Pov. Flashback “Mom, look at the dress Dad got me for my birthday!” I rush into her room, holding it out with both hands like it’s made of gold. She turns, mid-makeup, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Your father got you a dress? For what party?” I blink. “Mom, it’s my seventeenth birthday. You said I could throw a party this year.” “Oh, did I?” she says, too lightly. “That’s funny. I also remember telling you to go to Pilates. Maybe hit the gym once in a while. And for some reason… that didn’t happen either.” “Mom—” “Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking.” I clench the fabric. “Nobody cares about that. Just—look at this dress. It’s gorgeous.” She scoffs. “I pity the dress.” “Seriously?” “Don’t ‘Mom’ me, Sofia. Maybe if you’d joined the damn Pilates class like I told you, we’d have something to celebrate.” “Dad said he’d cover everything.” She sets her makeup brush down. Slowly. “Okay.” I barely register the shift in her voice before she crosses the room. “

Lucien's Pov My phone buzzes as I hit the third step. "Michael," I mutter, sliding over the green icon without slowing down. His voice comes in too bright. “Hey man! Just checking if you’ve started on the designs.” Of course he is. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ll call you when I’m done.” I say flatly, ending the call before he can start rambling. I toss the phone onto the bed. By the time I reach the bathroom, my head’s already pounding. I shut my eyes under the spray, letting the water slam into me, hard and cold. Maybe it’ll knock some sense back in. Maybe it won’t. I yank off my shirt, the fabric dragging across my skin like a tease I didn’t ask for. My pants follow, and the friction—God—my body reacts before I can stop it. A groan slips out, uninvited. “Arrgh… Sofia.” Her name scrapes out of me before I can swallow it back. I squeeze my eyes shut, biting down hard on my lower lip. That’s her move—exactly how she does it. She gnaws on it until it turns pink and sw

Sofia's Pov I slam the door behind me, chest heaving. Darkness wraps around me. When did it get this late? I fumble for my phone, heart thudding as the screen lights up. 7:03 PM. Shit. A wall of notifications floods the screen—missed calls from Mia, Kiera… even Grandma. Twelve in total. My stomach knots. I’m so screwed. I order a ride and just as I'm about to breathe, a notification pings. “Pick-up point set to estate entrance. Taxis are not allowed inside.” Of course. “Ugh, seriously?” I curse under my breath, shoving my phone into my bag. I start walking fast, the shadows stretching as I pass, cold air biting at my arms. Why does this night keep getting worse? I jog, the wind whipping across my face, stinging my eyes. My heart’s racing, my fingers won’t stop trembling. It takes over ten minutes—ten long, breathless minutes—before I finally round the corner and spot a taxi idling just past the gate. I slow down, walk past the estate entrance, and slide

SOFIA’S POV “I…” The noise fades. The voices vanish. And I’m back there. Professor Lucien’s kitchen— My legs swing from his marble counter, the cold biting through my thin skirt. His jacket is still draped over my shoulders, like I hadn’t stopped him from claiming me. He stands a breath away. Sleeves rolled. Collar loose. Two top buttons undone—like temptation. His fingers curl around a glass he never drinks from. Not really… Because his eyes are drinking me in instead. “Sofia…” He says my name like a man who’s just repented… but is about to sin again. Hungry. Regretful. Low. Raspy. His gaze dips to my bare thighs— then lingers on my lips. “Sofia…” I jolt. The world slams back in. Cheering. Buzzing voices. Lights. Movement. Keira leans in, her smile too tight. “You’re taking too long.” I blink. The noise prickles my skin. Holy shit. I just zoned out. Not to nowhere— there. Back to his kitchen. Back to him. I force my eyes

Sofia's Pov “Grandma, I’m heading out!” I call, still chewing pancakes as I swing my bag over one shoulder. “Will you slow down and chew like a human being?” she says, walking in with a dish towel in her hand, apron still tied around her waist. “I’ve got a ten o’clock lecture, Grandma.” I lean over, press a quick kiss to her cheek, and head for the door. “Wait—Sofia.” I stop. She rarely uses that tone unless it matters. I glance back. She’s standing still, drying her hands slowly, her gaze pinned on me. “Are you going to your mother’s stepdaughter’s birthday party tomorrow?” The words land like a slap I wasn’t ready for. I freeze, hand resting on the doorknob. My chest tightens in that quiet spot beneath my ribs—the one I’ve learned to ignore. I force a breath. Try to sound normal. “I don't have a choice.” Her face softens, but she doesn’t say anything. “She called,” Grandma adds gently. “Was really upset about you leaving what she bought you out on the