All Chapters of Teach me to sin II (Sins of the past): Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

I know I’m supposed to breathe normally, but somehow my lungs refuse to listen. Ruby’s lips are still ghosting over mine, barely parted, her forehead touching mine like she’s scared to move too fast. The warmth of the room—the fireplace, the soft lamps, the red wine in two untouched glasses—feels distant, like I’m floating somewhere just above my body. The only thing I can truly feel is her. Her hands are on my waist. Not heavy, not claiming, just… there. A promise of safety. A place to land. I can’t look away from her eyes. They’re such a ridiculous shade of green, like sunlight filtering through leaves. And right now they’re staring at me like I’m something precious. Something she doesn’t want to break. My chest tightens. My throat burns. And before I can stop it— I’m crying. Not the soft, cute tears. No. The kind that punch their way out of you. I try to turn away, hide my face, apologize, anything but Ruby is quicker. She pulls me into her arms, holding me against

I hate attention. I always have. But apparently, surviving a kidnapping means everyone suddenly forgets the meaning of personal space. The classroom looks ridiculous—streamers, confetti, a giant “WELCOME BACK ELOISE” banner written in glitter glue that’s already flaking on the floor. Someone even brought cupcakes. Half the class is pretending we’re at a carnival instead of in a school where a staff literally died and I was almost sold off like livestock. They mean well. I know they do.For the first time as well. But as everyone cheers and claps the moment I walk in, a part of me just wants to crawl under a table and scream until my lungs go numb. Ruby squeezes my hand before slipping off to talk to Lindsay and Gabrielle about something. She gives me that look that’s a half warning, half affection. It was as if she was telling me she’ll be right back and to breathe. I nod. But the moment she’s out of sight, I feel the eyes again. Everyone stares like they’re waiting for me

Dinner at our estate was never truly about food. It was about reading the room, measuring loyalty, calculating who was drifting and who was still within the sphere of my influence. Roana, my beloved, liked to pretend these dinners were for bonding, but even she knew better. The Padre family did not “bond.” We assessed. We planned. We prepared for war even while cutting into soft, perfectly cooked steak. Tonight was no different. Ruby sat across from me, shoulders relaxed but eyes far away. Distracted. Luca was on her left, pushing food around like the sulking prince he had always been. Roana looked between them every few minutes, trying to decode the silence. It was unusually quiet. So, I cleared my throat lightly. “Ruby,” I said, giving her a patient smile. “How are things going with Eloise?” Her fork paused mid-air. Luca’s didn’t. Instead, he stabbed his asparagus so hard the tines screeched on the plate. He looked up with a twist of resentment on his face.

My window is open. I always keep it open when I’m grading the breeze helps me think, and the scent of the campus grass reminds me that I’m supposed to be a normal man with a normal life. Not a killer. Not whatever I became two weeks ago. The stack of essays in front of me isn’t impressive, but it’s comforting. Predictable. The one area of my life that doesn’t bleed. A soft knock sounds on my office door. “Come in,” I say, expecting a student with a missing assignment excuse. But the boy who steps in is… Young. Beautiful. And too composed to belong to my usual panicked freshmen. Tall. Clean haircut. Olive skin. Bright eyes. Designer backpack he definitely didn’t buy with student loans. I’ve taught enough rich kids to recognize one before he speaks. He shuts the door behind him. Red flag number one. I should have been more alert. “Professor Walker?” he asks, voice smooth. Confident. “Do you have a minute?” I nod, though something in my gut tightens

I’ve never waited for someone with this kind of anger burning in my chest before. Not even Julius ever managed to make me feel this… volatile. This sick. This out of control. The living room is dim except for the standing lamp Marilyn turned on when the sun started going down. She keeps pacing, whispering things under her breath, her fingers twisting around each other. She’s scared. For me and Tristan.She gave up trying to calm me down hours ago. The wine bottle on the table is half-empty, the liquid staining the inside of the glass like dried blood. I’m not wasted, but I’m definitely a few shades past sober. Just enough for everything to feel sharper, louder, meaner. The photos keep replaying in my head.The ones with my fiancé! Tristan! In his office! Making out with some random 23 year old kid. I gave up my life for him!!! My scholarship, I almost lost my friends, my reputation was in the gutter. I gave it all up for him and this is how he chooses to repay me?! The