Educational Administration: Theory And Practice

As a male Omega, stepping onto the ice was never supposed to be my dream. Hockey belonged to Alphas—strong, dominant, born to conquer both the rink and everyone on it. Omegas like me were meant to stay hidden, protected, controlled. But hiding had never been enough. The World Hockey Academy was the only place powerful enough to shield my identity, the only place my adoptive father—its Dean—believed I could survive. To the public, it was an elite sports academy. To those like me, it was a prison disguised as opportunity. To them… it was Alpha Academy. From the moment I arrived, I swallowed suppressants like oxygen. Every breath had to be measured. Every movement controlled. A single slip—one flare of Omega scent—and I would be exposed. I had to skate like an Alpha. Fight like an Alpha. Bleed like one. On the ice, weakness wasn’t forgiven. That was when I noticed him. The strongest Alpha in the academy. The storm everyone feared. His presence alone made my knees weaken, my instincts scream in panic and hunger all at once. His golden eyes tracked me every time I touched the puck, sharp and suspicious, as if he already sensed something was wrong. During practice, we crashed into each other. The impact sent us both sprawling across the ice—but it was his hand gripping my jersey, his scent crashing over me, that shattered my control. My suppressants burned uselessly in my veins. His lips curved slowly, dangerously, as he leaned close enough for his breath to brush my ear. “Funny,” he murmured, voice low and certain. “For an Alpha… you smell like prey.” My heart slammed against my ribs. If he figured it out, everything would end. And yet— my Omega instincts whispered something far worse. I wanted him closer.

L’Héritière de l’Ombre Dans une famille où le pouvoir est un héritage aussi précieux que dangereux, Elena Moreau, capitaine de l’armée et benjamine d’une lignée influente, se retrouve propulsée dans un rôle qu’elle n’a jamais désiré. Lorsque son frère aîné, Sébastien, PDG d’un empire familial, disparaît mystérieusement, leur père exige qu’elle prenne sa place. Grâce à leur ressemblance troublante, Elena se transforme en Sébastien : coupe de cheveux, costumes masculins, bandages serrés pour masquer son corps de femme… Tout est calculé pour maintenir l’illusion. Après tout, elle connaît l’entreprise comme sa poche. Mais diriger un empire financier est une chose, tromper des hommes d’affaires aguerris en est une autre. Si les employés et actionnaires se laissent berner, un homme commence à avoir des doutes. Un associé influent, fin observateur, qui connaissait Sébastien mieux que quiconque. Ses soupçons grandissent à chaque rencontre, et Elena sent la menace se resserrer autour d’elle. Entre les enquêtes discrètes pour retrouver son frère, les rivalités au sein du conseil d’administration et le danger constant d’être démasquée, elle doit jouer une partie d’échecs où le moindre faux pas pourrait tout faire s’effondrer. Et si la disparition de Sébastien n’était pas un simple choix ? Et si l’entreprise cachait des secrets bien plus sombres qu’elle ne l’imaginait ? Dans un monde où les apparences sont une arme, Elena devra prouver qu’elle est bien plus qu’une simple imposture.

“Admit it,” He growls, pressing my back into the wall. “You like it when I piss you off.” Fuck, I hate Hayes so much. My breath hitches and I brace my hands against his chest. “You’re delusional.” “Am I?” He smirks and leans in, mouth hovering just inches from my ear. “Then why do you look like you're about to kiss me–or punch me? Either way, Carter, I win.” “Fuck you!” I spit. Dorian chuckles darkly, roughly kicking my legs apart so he can press his knee hard up against my dick. “Oh you will, Golden boy. And when you do, it won’t be because I forced you. It’ll be because you begged for my cock.” For Noah Carter, hockey isn’t just a game–it’s an escape. The golden boy captain with a killer smile and a secret he can’t afford to slip, Noah’s carefully crafted lie is falling apart with every practice and every time he locks eyes with HIM. HIM. Dorian Hayes is fire on the ice with only one mission--Make it to the NHL. But there’s one person he never expected to see when he got in Bridgewater to play for the Artic-Blades. Noah Fucking Carter. The one person he hates with everything inside him. Cue in a plan to destroy everything Noah stands for. But every time their bodies collide on the ice, Dorian can’t deny the pull. It’s infuriating, maddening…and addictive. He doesn’t want to want Noah, but when their rivalry shifts from Icy stares to scalding touches, Dorian is forced to confront a truth he’s spent years skating away from: sometimes, the person you hate the most is the only one who truly sees you.

Elias Thorne, PDG froid et impitoyable de Thorne Global, est habitué à exiger la perfection et à obtenir ce qu'il veut. Mais une clause bizarre dans le testament de son défunt grand-père a jeté un pavé dans la mare de sa vie méticuleusement contrôlée : pour hériter de son empire, il doit épouser une femme dotée d'une pure passion créative — une artiste — dans les 90 jours. Tout manquement signifie tout perdre au profit de son cousin rival et manipulateur. Entre en scène Sienna Reed, graphiste farouchement indépendante qui, secrètement, est une artiste de rue virale. Luttant pour payer les factures médicales écrasantes de sa mère, elle est un pion improbable, mais nécessaire. Elias lui propose un contrat non négociable de dix-huit mois : Un mariage temporaire contre un prix astronomique. Sienna accepte, jurant que l'arrangement restera strictement commercial. Mais vivre sous le même toit dans le penthouse stérile d'Elias force l'artiste chaotique et le PDG dominateur à une collision immédiate. Alors qu'ils naviguent entre les batailles féroces du conseil d'administration, les événements mondains, et les tentatives incessantes de son ex-fiancée pour reprendre sa place, les limites de leur contrat commencent à s'estomper. Lorsqu'une intrigue corporative menace de révéler le secret profond et caché derrière l'étrange stipulation du testament — un secret qui lie la lignée artistique de Sienna directement à la dynastie Thorne — Elias doit choisir. Peut-il protéger la femme qui a fondu son cœur gelé de manière inattendue, ou les termes mêmes de leur contrat détruiront-ils finalement l'empire, et l'amour fragile, qu'ils ont secrètement construits ?

Son Bouclier Menteur . Amélia "Amy" Sterling a tout : un nom, une fortune colossale et l'intelligence. Ce qu'elle n'a plus, c'est la patience. Après l'échec d'un mariage arrangé et une tentative d'enlèvement bâclée, elle est devenue cynique et allergique à l'autorité. Pour elle, les gardes du corps sont des accessoires ennuyeux. Poussé par un conseil d'administration anxieux et son oncle machiavélique, Amy se voit imposer Damian Croft, un homme d'une beauté dangereuse et d'un professionnalisme glacial. Ce qu'elle ignore, c'est que "Damian" est en réalité Elias Vance, un détective privé au bord de la faillite, engagé secrètement par l'oncle pour espionner Amy et trouver des preuves de son incompétence à hériter de l'empire familial. Leur cohabitation forcée est un festival de joutes verbales. Amy, maîtresse de l'humiliation subtile, s'amuse à tester les limites de l'imposteur, tandis qu'Elias essaie désespérément de naviguer dans le monde absurde du luxe, commettant des gaffes hilarantes en tentant de rester crédible. Pourtant, sous les piques cinglantes et les missions d'espionnage ratées, une tension irrésistible s'installe. Elias est charmé par le cœur caché derrière le sarcasme d'Amy, et elle commence à voir en lui une présence rassurante, malgré son air de "robot trop bien bâti". Mais le jeu prend une tournure dramatique : les tentatives d'intimidation deviennent réelles, visant non plus à déstabiliser l'héritière, mais à l'éliminer. Elias doit choisir : terminer sa mission secrète, livrer Amy à son oncle et toucher un chèque qui le sauvera, ou trahir son contrat pour devenir réellement le bouclier protecteur de la femme qui a fait voler son cœur en éclats.

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.

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.