All Chapters of THE PROFESSOR'S SECRET GIRL: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Dominic sat in his car, parked deep in the faculty basement. The engine was off, the AC dead, and the humid morning air clung to the windshield like the breath of someone terrified. His white shirt was creased at the sleeves, one button undone—the same one that had popped loose when his mother’s voice had struck him like a hammer.“…your father’s inheritance will no longer be yours.”Damn it. That line kept looping in his head, over and over.He glanced down at his phone. Renata’s name sat right at the top of his recent calls—yesterday afternoon, three seconds, before she hung up. His thumb hovered over the call button for a full ten seconds, like a man standing at the edge of a cliff who knows one more step means falling.And then—he pressed it.“Hello?” Her voice was small, rushed, the faint sounds of students and wind behind her.Dominic closed his eyes, letting that voice wash over him like a drug. “Renata.” Just one word, rough and hoarse, like it had clawed its way out of a long

The faculty corridor was nearly empty that evening. Only a flickering neon light hummed above, casting long, trembling shadows across the tiled floor. Selly stood at the top of the stairs, her fingers gripping her bag strap so tightly that her knuckles turned white.She’d had a feeling since this morning. The way Professor Alex’s lips curled into that faint, secretive smile every time Renata’s name came up. The way Professor Dominic looked at Renata—like she was the only person in the world. Two respected professors, both older, circling around one student. Selly wasn’t stupid. She knew something was off.So when Renata walked out of Dominic’s office that afternoon—hair messy, blouse wrinkled, eyes red and swollen as if she’d been crying—Selly acted on instinct. Leaving her car behind, she took a taxi and followed Renata all the way to the Nirwana Suite Hotel. The same hotel she herself had visited earlier that morning.Renata walked quickly, head down, one hand half-covering her face

Morning dew still clung to the windows of the Nirwana suite. A soft, golden light slipped through the curtains, brushing over the neatly made king-sized bed—empty on Alex’s side.Renata sat at the edge of the mattress, her palm open. Lying across it was a single strand of light brown hair. She hadn’t slept all night. She’d found that strand on the carpet, pocketed it instantly, and had been clutching it since four in the morning.The bathroom door opened. Alex stepped out, a towel slung around his waist, hair damp, expression unreadable.“Morning,” he muttered, crossing to the wardrobe.Renata’s gaze followed him. A faint red mark glowed just below his ear—too low, too fresh to be hers. She remembered exactly where she’d bitten him yesterday morning: higher, deeper. This one was new.“Professor,” Renata called, her voice hoarse but steady. “Where did you go last night? You said you were heading to the lobby.”Alex didn’t turn. He pulled a crisp white shirt from a hanger. “Bought cigar

The warmth from the bathroom still clung to Renata’s skin as she stepped out. Her hair was damp, dripping onto her shoulders, and the soft scent of jasmine soap lingered faintly beneath the clean fragrance of the towel wrapped around her. She wore Dominic’s white shirt—far too big for her—its loose hem brushing her knees and hiding more than it revealed.From the living room, Dominic stood by the wide window, a glass of bourbon in his hand. The earlier rain had faded into a soft drizzle that glimmered beneath the streetlights. His reflection looked calm, but there was a tension in his shoulders—like someone fighting the urge to admit something he shouldn’t.Renata stopped at the doorway, her eyes resting on him for a long moment. “Do you always drink after talking to me?” she asked softly, just enough to pull him from his thoughts.He turned slowly, his gaze falling immediately to the shirt hanging off her frame. His breath caught for half a second before he managed a reply.“Only whe

On the other side of the door, Selly clamped her own hand over her mouth, desperate to swallow every moan. She hadn’t expected Professor Alex Harrington to summon her the second class ended, let alone demand she satisfy his forbidden hunger right here on campus.The lecturer’s office was dead quiet, the kind of silence that amplifies every heartbeat. Selly’s breath came in ragged gasps. Professor Alex Harrington—late fifties, still built like a linebacker, with a stare that made the girls whisper—loomed over her, a smug curve on his lips. His white shirt hung open at the collar, sweat glistening across the hard planes of his chest.Selly, twenty-one, long black hair tangled, campus uniform rumpled and clinging, pressed trembling fingers to her lips, fighting the scream that clawed up her throat every time he moved her.“Easy, Selly,” Alex rasped, voice gravel and smoke. His hands locked around her waist, yanking her flush against the wide oak desk stacked with books and lecture notes.