Academy's Undercover Professor Novel 353 Novels & Stories

I grab the remote, flip to Channel 3. My face fills the screen, a photo from the university website. Then Mateo’s. Then the headline: PROFESSOR’S SECRET STUDIO: STUDENT CLAIMS COERCION IN NUDE MODELING SCANDAL I feel the room spinning. “That’s not…I never claimed…” “Keep watching,” Sofia says. The anchor continues: “In an exclusive interview, an anonymous student alleges Professor Mateo Sandoval of the University of Barcelona created a pattern of inappropriate relationships, using his position to pressure female students into modeling nude for private art projects.”

"Yes, sir. When I mentioned I was researching Academy security incidents, he said his combat strategy expertise might be relevant." It was close enough to the truth to sound believable. "Very well. I'll escort you to his office." "Thank you, sir." As we walked toward the academic wing, my heart hammered against my ribs. This was it. I was about to walk back into the predator's den and pretend to be his willing accomplice. All while knowing he was fully aware of who I really was. Professor Aldrin's office door was open when we arrived. He looked up from his desk, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Before the professor can melt into the shadows, Ryder strips his gloves and helmet, shoving them at a equipment manager, and sprints down the tunnel, his skates clacking harshly against the concrete. He catches Adrian just as he reaches the heavy metal doors leading to the parking lot. "Professor," Ryder calls out, his voice raspy from shouting plays on the ice. Adrian freezes, his hand hovering over the push bar. He turns, and for a split second, his mask of academic composure slips, his eyes widening as they rake over Ryder’s sweaty, disheveled form. He doesn't say a word, just nods stiffly, a flush creeping up his neck, before pushing the door open and disappearing into the night. Ryder g

The same mouth that had been on me last night. Professor Elias Thorne. The man I fucked senseless in a hotel room. The man I was supposed to marry. He scanned the room and his eyes landed on me. I could see the same recognition I had on my face, flash through his. But it was gone in a second as he cleared his throat and stepped onto the podium. “Good morning,” he said calmly. “I’m Professor Thorne. Welcome to Advanced Literary Theory.” For a moment I just remained transfixed. Mara nudged me. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

Professor Themis adjusted his wire rimmed spectacles, his fingers hovering just a millimeter above the cracked leather of a tome that had not been requested from the vaults in over three hundred years. Outside, the rain was a relentless percussion against the high, arched windows of the spire. The academy was still screaming. Even through four feet of reinforced granite, Themis could feel the jagged, discordant vibrations of the student body. The lockdown had turned Blackthorn into a pressure cooker. Everyone was curious about what would happen next and they were scared who I would attack next as if I was some beast who had lost its mind and was out for vengeance. I stood at the corner looki

She leaned back and rested into the chair, folding her arms across her chest and studying the man, this was the grand son of the business tycoon every one in New York was going on about and she wondered if he was the same person she had seen the first time she had gone to Skyline, with the media buzzing around him, the one they said had just returned. She knew that in order for her to know more about him and Skyline and the connection they had, or did not have, to these murders, she would have to get in closer, she would have to go to the club and go undercover. The club was the best place to gather information and gossip, no body would be so cautious if she started asking about who Michael

"About what you said just now, did you manage to confirm the veracity of the information you got?" “About my members starting to defect to Schneider's side, you mean? Yes. My personal assistant has confirmed the truth as well as the others. Coupled with the autopsy report from Gavin, everything has been proven." “What autopsy? What do you mean it's the corpse of one of the professors who worked at the university where Nikki studied? The professor you admired when you were studying there, right?” “Professor Anderson? No, not him. There are several bodies that Gavin managed to collect besides Professor Anderson,” Stephen waved his hand in front of his face, then nodded slightly. "That's right.

I took the seat that was behind and nearest to the window with the teacher walked in in a purple shirt and pants, leaving his sleeves unbuttoned. Mr Sal always had weird choice of clothing but he out did himself today. Weird start to the day. We were halfway in our biology lecture when the principal came in with a guy then whispered something into Mr Sal's ears before leaving. "Well class, this is a new student who will be joining us for the year and I'll let him do his introduction." Mr Sal introduced. "I-" He stopped mid sentence and cleared his throat before continuing. "I am Keith Anderson and I'm glad to be here."

Jerson mocked. “Fuck you!” Alec shouted. “Anyway, the academy you are part of seemed like something fishy was going on. That prestigious academy must be doing something behind its outstanding education to maintain its name. The Professors had their students educated privately, but after the session, students, mostly girls, were wrecked. Their performances were low, but their ranks were high. The study session seemed like a cover-up to hide the crime. This picture from footage also added to my suspicion,” Alec gave Jerson the pictures. From the images, a man in a black suit entered a building, and the next one to join was the teacher and the student. “I checked the man in the background image

I moved to go around her and to my car, but her next words stopped me in my tracks. “I wonder what the university will say when they find out a professor got a student pregnant? It wouldn’t be good, now would it?” I couldn’t breathe. How did she find out? Had someone told her? Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I said, “What do you want? Because if you want money, I don’t have any.” Dr. Martin snorted. “I don’t need money, sweetheart. But you have access to the one thing no one else does: Lochlann’s research. Give that to me, and I won’t spill your secret.”