Academy's Undercover Professor Novels & Stories

“Bruce called last night. He was a total wreck, talking about some club, an intense training program, and you throwing away a two-year relationship over a tactical case. What are you doing? He says you are putting yourself in a dangerous position.” Lila looks at me, looking more than a little angry. “Bruce panicked because he cannot handle the reality of undercover work. The engagement is over because we want entirely different things out of life, not because of a case file.” “He told me you are training to go undercover as a submissive for an auction pool,” Vance says, sounding a mix of furious and genuinely worried. “Please tell me he’s lying. The Bureau shouldn’t have you doing something

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."

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

All of my students loved me, and seemed to love my teachings. When the first year ended and the second year began, I was not prepared for the influx of young girls, students, throwing themselves at me. I was disgusted. It's an unspoken tradition at this school that every professor would end up sleeping with a student by the end of their second year teaching. That didn't happen with me. The students we have here, or at least the ones I end up teaching, are all spoiled rich kids. The girls are bratty, and not in the way I like.

"We only have a few minutes before this class will be over so I'll try and rush things." He turned to the large screen behind him and pressed a few buttons on the keyboard before placing his hands on the desk in front of him, eyes flitting across the screen and the projector on the other end. The professor began explaining the outline for the course and what we should expect for the semester, as he droned on about why we shouldn't slack off of any research given to us Jason leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Do you think it's illegal to ogle your professor's ass?"

"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.

He said nothing, his throat tightening. Mark's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "The academic world is a small one, Leonard. May I call you Leonard? People talk. They notice things. A professor showing... excessive interest in a particular student. Private meetings that extend far beyond office hours." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It would be a shame if such a promising academic career as Professor Weston's were to be... derailed by unfounded rumors. But then again, where there's smoke, there's often fire."

“But I thought you should be aware. We’ve been instructed to keep the situation under wraps while the investigation continues, but I couldn’t, in good conscience, not warn you.” “I understand,” Ava murmured, her throat dry. “Thank you, Professor.” She ended the call, but her hands remained clenched around the phone. Tampered records? A high-profile academic break-in? Nothing in her Harvard file had ever been remarkable. She’d been a diligent student—quiet, consistent. She painted, took studio electives, and studied late into the night. The only hiccup had been when she was nearly forced to drop out by Margareth Laurent and Kirill Volkov. Even then, she hadn’t raised her voice. She just finis

sagot nitokunwari hindi niya alam ang sagot. The man smiled under the hood. “We at least expected this kind of security of the famous academy.” “Do you expect me to just sit back knowing an unknown danger might harm my students?” suddenly there were no emotions visible on Professor James’s face as his voice sounded cold and vicious. In just a blink on eye the mood change.

"Which is why I needed to get out of his shadow for a while. Hence, transfer." "Makes sense." The professor walked in—Dr. Chen, an older wolf with gray streaking her black hair and a no-nonsense attitude. She started taking attendance, outlining the syllabus for the semester. Cole leaned over, whispered, "So what's the deal with this class? Hard? Easy? Somewhere in between?" "Depends on how much you like political theory." "Not even a little bit." He grinned. "But I'm good at faking interest. It's a skill."