Professor Enzo And Lila Novels & Stories

As soon as I rounded the corner, I made a sharp and peeked out from where I was standing. A few seconds passed by before Lila appeared, holding a menu in her hand. Once she was gone, I headed back to the kitchen, my gaze locking on the table she was heading to. Professor Matthews seemed relaxed now and he was engaged in a conversation with his wife. That was what I spent the whole night doing, watching him and his wife. Lila caught me once, asking me why I was watching them. “I'm not. I was looking at something else,” I answered, turning away quickly.

The one who’d walked in through the wrong door, interrupted the lecture, winked like she owned the room, and said something about making only the kind of noise I approved of. What was her name again? Celine. Of course. She was slouched on the desk, head tilted back, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling in a rhythm that made her look both unbothered and dangerous. The sight tugged at something I had buried so deep I thought it had rotted away. The class began to whisper. A few students tried to hide their laughter. I let them. “Fascinating,” I said, calmly setting the marker down. “It seems Miss Moretti finds the mysteries of planetary motion soothing enough to sleep through.”

"For the past two weeks, I've seen your strength, your courage, and how incredibly you shone without me. That's when I finally realized how ridiculous I sounded back then. "I'm not here to force you to come back to me. I just want you to know that my feelings for you have always been real—as real as the mountains around us. "And yes, I admit I did go overboard with the way I looked after Isabella. But that was purely out of sympathy, not love. I hope you understand at least that, Bianca." I looked at him, surprised in a way I didn't expect. Enzo's change was… astonishing. The man who used to be so proud and untouchable, wielding all the power of the mafia, was now apologizing to me with such

They were surely going to pay with their lives for this. "I don't trust a single one of you," Fatima continued. Her gaze swept the room before finally landing on me. Her expression softened into a naive, trusting look. "But I trust Professor Nicholas. He wouldn't stoop so low as to engage in such a disgusting act with a student. Right, Professor Nicholas?" She beamed a sickening sweet smile at me.

“Here?” “You didn’t mind last night, in an auditorium filled with hundreds of people,” he reminded her, standing slowly. “I don’t remember you complaining at all.” That was … different.” “How?” Lilith's throat bobbed, her eyes darting around. She didn’t have anywhere to escape, though, and she knew it. “It was dark in the auditorium.” “Bullshit. All anyone had to do was look away from the stage to see exactly what was happening.” Enzo raked his eyes up and down her body. He wanted to rip her skirt and blouse off — they were way too ordinary for what he was certain was underneath.

Jia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before approaching. "I won't let her say anything hurtful tonight, I promise” Enzo whispered, his voice soft but firm in her ear. She glanced up at him, offering a small smile in return, though her hands tightened subtly around his arm. They made their way to the table. "Mum" Enzo called out. Lilian's gaze flickered up sharply. Her lips curled into a tight smile when she saw Enzo but as her eyes shifted to Jia standing beside him, the smile faltered, disappearing almost immediately.

The screen flickered a few times before the static faded to reveal Enzo. He was sitting in the empty study of a manor. His back was to an enormous floor-to-ceiling window. Through it, I could see the distinctive scenery of Saracules' countryside. He was practically skin and bones. However, even though his eyes were sunken deep into his sockets, the gaze he fixed on the camera was oddly calm. "Isabella, by the time you watch this video, I've already gone to the afterlife to make amends to Marco."

I hear charcoal scratching the paper, he’s already drawing. I take my underwear down, step out of them, and I’m completely naked in my professor’s studio. “Sit on the stool in the stage.” I climb the two steps, the wooden stool pressing under me. The spotlight is bright, exposing. I cross my arms over my breasts, dying of shame. “Drop your arms.” “Mateo…” “Professor Sandoval.” His tone is sharp. “In this studio, you call me Professor. And you follow instructions. Arms down.”

"Olivier will get there. He is not a bad person. He is just grieving. He is only twenty-three, and he was raised to believe that protecting the family name is how you show love. It isn't, but it is all he knows." "I know something about that too," I said. "I thought you might." We sat in silence for a moment. "I should probably get back to Lyon soon," Enzo said, standing up from his chair. "Finals are coming. My professor hates it when people miss class. I already used my grandmother's funeral as an excuse back in February, so I am running out of family emergencies." He paused, looking at me. "Though, technically, this counts as one. I just discovered a sister. That seems pretty important."

His eyes, those damn eyes remained locked on me, drinking me in like he couldn’t stop, like he wouldn’t stop even if the world fell apart. It was intimate. It was strong. It was forbidden. Every law, every oath, screamed at me: Stop looking at him. Stop feeling this. He’s your professor. This is forbidden. But instinct roared louder. My lips parted, trembling, as I clutched my arms around myself. My breath hitched, my entire body trembling with the unbearable pull toward him. I couldn’t look away, even as shame scorched me from the inside. “Dante,” Professor Cross snapped, clearing his throat, the sharp sound easing the tension.