Classroom Of The Elite Volume 8 Novels & Stories

Olivia had a frown on her face as she entered into the private elevator, leading to the private classrooms. "That arrogant jerk!" She grumbled, her face squeezing up, "Who does he think he is?" She finally pushed the knob, and the soft gliding sound of the glassy door could be heard as she entered into the class. The private classroom was totally different from their normal classrooms. There were three black plush swiveling chairs, with laptops on their tables. It was incredibly spacious and exuded grandeur. Inside this same classroom, there were three separate relaxation suites for the boys.

Every time she accidentally felt his sharp, ice-grey gaze sweep across the classroom, her heart would skip a violent beat. The sheer, suffocating pressure he carried as an elite man was simply too overwhelming. She felt as though she were sitting on thousands of tiny, sharp needles, and even basic breathing felt like a struggle. Finally… RING! The sharp echo of the school bell resonated throughout the room. The gruelling lecture was finally over. Elara secretly let out a long breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "...Finally," she whispered under her breath. She hurriedly packed her notebook and pen into her bag. Her only thought right now was simple: Run. Leave. Get as far away from t

“There go the elites,” one of the students said sarcastically when they saw the elite class entered the classroom. They had been taking classes with them for a month but they find it hard to approach them since they acted like they have their own world. It was as if they were telling them that they are in a different league of their own. “I don’t have a problem with the other elites, so I don’t really know why I hate that green-haired guy,” Sean Jr., the eldest son of Baron Wyeth said with arrogance.