What Did The Science Say To The Math Book

BLURB: Ethan was just a college student trying to keep his unsteady life together. Boring lectures, empty bank account. A future that felt blurry at best. Nothing about his world was exciting… until he walked into that lecture hall. Then he saw him. A magnetic qns handsome. The kind of man who silences a room without trying. Professor Kai was brilliant, untouchable, and completely off-limits. Every student wanted his attention. Ethan just wanted to survive it. He told himself it was only admiration. A harmless crush. Professors and students don’t mix, right? He was wrong. Because this Professor isn’t a professor at all. Behind the tailored suits and sharp lectures is a spy in disguise, sent on an impossible mission that could shift the balance of power. One mistake or questions . And Ethan’s life becomes collateral damage. Ethan never thought attraction could be fatal. But the closer he gets, the more secrets he uncovers… and the harder it is to walk away. Every lie pulls him deeper. Every glance feels like a warning he refuses to hear. The more dangerous the truth gets, the more obsessed he becomes with the man keeping it. Now Ethan is trapped between fear and desire. Between running for his life, or falling for a man who was never meant to be loved. This is the story of a student who fell in love with secrets. And a spy who never planned on being found. The question is: when the mission ends… will love survive it?

Story Of a Mysterious Professor, a girl full of life and Mr Stranger. **** "Now you'll just follow my command." As he told me, I nodded my head meekly, sitting on the desk. "Professor wants his favourite student to stand up and come to him." As he commanded, I stood up and sauntered to him. My heartbeat is accelerating with every step which I'm taking toward him. "Now remove your top for your professor, my favourite student." As he ordered, I flushed, moving my eyelashes down. "Do it fast, Princess. I'm waiting." As he spoke, I moved my eyes up at him shyly. He pointed his finger at my top. I held the hem of my green top and pulled it over my head, gazing at his handsome face sheepishly. "Now give it to me." As he said, I instantly gave my top to him, and he inhaled my scent from the top, closing his eyes. "Your scent is exquisite, Princess." He whispered after opening his eyes. He kept my top on the table. "Now this." He pointed his finger at my bra, asking me take it off. I blushed hard before taking my hands behind and unlocking it. This is really increasing my excitement. As I removed it, he moved his eyes down at my twins and then up at me. "You're really beautiful, Princess." He complimented me, touching my heart. He pulled out his hand, and I gave my bra to him. Then like this, I pulled out my jeans and undies too and gave them to him. This is arousing my desires more. He is gazing at my body like he's gazing at the stars. "I like you like this. You are so beautiful, Princess. For me, your body is perfect from every corner." I smiled at him.

"I don't play games, Miss Moretti. I end them." Celine Moretti has a plan after catching her boyfriend with the new beautiful transfer student. It’s simple, really. Step one: Don't cry. Get even. Step two: Seduce the transfer student’s uncle—the icy, terrifyingly handsome Professor Reed—and destroy his niece’s perfect little life. It was supposed to be a game. A little revenge to soothe a broken heart. Celine thought she was the player. She thought Professor Reed was just a target, a rigid academic with a god complex and a stick up his ass. She was wrong. Professor Reed isn't just a teacher. He is Caelum Morano, the ruthlessly efficient Don of the Morano Crime Family. A man who hides in the halls of academia to hunt the shadow organization that butchered his fiancée. He has spent years perfecting his mask of indifference, living a life of cold solitude, surrounded by a loving but dangerous family he keeps at arm's length. Until Celine walks in. She is chaos in red lipstick. She is defiance wrapped in a short skirt. And she looks exactly like the ghost haunting his dreams. He tries to reject her. He tries to scare her away. "You’re playing with fire, little star," Caelum warned, his hand closing around her throat, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to own. "And I burned down the world a long time ago." "Then burn me," Celine whispered, trembling not with fear, but with a dark, twisted need. "I’d rather burn with you than freeze alone."

I was nineteen the first time Cole Whitfield broke me. Not with cruelty. With a single word. Why. Not did you — why. Like the answer was already settled and he just wanted the story to make sense. I told him the truth anyway. He said nothing that mattered. So I picked up my bag, walked out of his apartment, and decided that a man who trusted a rumor over two years of me wasn’t worth a correction. I spent the next two years becoming someone I actually liked. New city. Graduate program. A published paper with my name on it. I was done with Cole Whitfield in every way a person can be done. Then I walked into Seminar Room 114 and he was sitting right there, gray eyes already on the door, like some part of him knew. I sat down. I opened my notebook. I did not look up. Here’s the thing about studying how people form beliefs: you understand exactly why he believed it. That doesn’t mean you forgive it. That doesn’t mean two years of silence disappear because he’s learned how to look at you like he’s sorry. He wants a conversation. I want my degree. But the campus is small, the seminar table is round, and the boy who broke my heart at nineteen is doing everything right at twenty-one — and I’m starting to understand that composed isn’t the same thing as healed. I hate that I still know the exact sound of his voice.

All I wanted was a one-night stand with a random guy, just to get back at my boyfriend, who had insulted me for never being able to feel anything with him. So, I left Brooklyn with my best friend, Ashley, to spend spring break in Cabo. The deal was simple: have fun like a normal young adult and hook up with any guy... just to prove a point. I ended up in the bed of a man with the most mesmerizing eyes I’d ever seen—a man I knew absolutely nothing about. He pleased me in ways I didn’t think were possible. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered brush of his hands against my skin ignited a hunger I never knew I had. But when I woke up the next morning, the stranger was gone. I thought it was just a forgotten one-night stand, someone I’d never see again. Until I found out he was my new statistics professor. It was supposed to be one meaningless night, but now I crave him in ways I never knew were possible. Even knowing he could be my downfall, I still want him. Still crave him. Still want him to ruin me in whatever way he desires.

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.