"I'm sorry, Rose, but the grades are already finalized. You’ll just have to accept that," Mr. David said, his lips curling into that same smug smile I’d grown to despise.
I sat across from him, hands clenched around my glass, trying not to let the frustration show. I was begging my professor to reconsider my missed test, and he was acting like it amused him.
God, I hated this school. I hated my college. Maybe it was because I’d never wanted to study Business Administration in the first place. But what choice did I have? I needed a degree, a job...something to keep me from starving.
No family. No safety net. Just me.
An abandoned baby who grew up in an orphanage, now living with a college friend until I could graduate and figure out what came next.
Honestly, I was tired...so tired. Sometimes I wished I could just marry a rich man who’d whisk me away from all this misery so I wouldn’t have to fight so hard for everything.
My daydream shattered when a low, raspy cough pulled me back to reality.
Mr. Daniel Smith. My statistics professor.
The man I hated more than any other on campus. His voice grated on my nerves. His condescending tone. His lingering looks. The way his eyes always followed me when he thought I wouldn’t notice.
And now, sitting here in this dimly lit bar with him, I realized missing that test had given him the perfect excuse to corner me.
"Earth to pretty Rose," he said with that same infuriating grin.
God, I hated the way he said my name.
"Sorry, Mr. Smith. I must’ve gotten lost in thought," I muttered, forcing a polite smile before taking a sip of my drink after taking four sips of alcohol
"We were having a conversation," he reminded me, his tone light but laced with something darker. "As I said, the grade can’t be changed. What’s done is done."
We both knew that was a lie. He could change it...if he wanted to.
"Please, sir," I said quietly, desperation leaking into my voice despite myself. "Let me retake the test. This grade determines whether I pass or fail. I’ll do… anything."
The moment the word left my mouth, regret hit me like a punch.
His grin widened, slow and deliberate. "Anything?" he repeated, his eyes gleaming with a look that made my stomach twist.
And just like that, I knew exactly where this was going.
Why did I say that?
The words echoed in my head like a curse. This was exactly what he wanted, and now I’d practically handed it to him. But I couldn’t do it. No matter how much I hated my life, I wasn’t that desperate.
And especially not with him.
This creepy, married man with kids...this old vulture of a professor...was the last person I’d ever sell myself to.
"Why don’t you meet me tomorrow night at 7 p.m. in my office, Rose," he said smoothly, like he wasn’t dangling poison right in front of me. "We’ll… talk better then."
"I...uh… I don’t know, sir…" My voice cracked, weak, but I forced myself to meet his eyes.
"Think about it, sweetheart." His hand slid across the table, reaching for mine.
I jerked back instantly, running a hand through my hair as if brushing away the disgust crawling over my skin. "I need to make a phone call," I muttered, standing so fast my chair scraped against the floor.
I grabbed my bag and left without another word.
Outside, I inhaled sharply, as if I’d been holding my breath the whole time. My hands were trembling.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to hit something.
I wanted to kill him.
But this was my final year. If I didn’t pass this class, I’d be stuck here another year...and I couldn’t afford that. Not financially. Not mentally.
I fished a pack of cigarettes out of my bag with shaking fingers and pulled one free. Smoking was the only thing that ever calmed me down when the darkness in my head got too loud. The darkness that had followed me since I was a kid...the hatred, the irritability, the urge to burn everything around me to the ground. College was the only thin thread holding me together.
I dug for my lighter. Nothing. I checked again. Still nothing.
"Goddammit!" I hissed under my breath. Of course, I’d lose it now.
I glanced around desperately. I needed to light up before my thoughts spiraled into something worse. Before I did something stupid.
Then I saw it..smoke curling lazily from the shadows near the corner of the building.
“I need that. I need to smoke.”
The thought slipped out before I even realized it. The alcohol still burned in my veins as I pushed myself to stand, my steps slow and unsteady.
I spotted him ahead, the guy with the lighter, moving toward a narrow alley.
No...he wasn’t getting away. I needed that lighter.
My legs trembled as I followed him, the dim light making everything blur a little. But the moment I turned the corner, I froze.
He wasn’t alone.
A woman was with him. I had no idea where she’d come from, but the scene in front of me hit like a slap.
He gripped her waist and kissed her..hard, desperate.
“What the hell…” I whispered, my heart thudding.
Was I that drunk? Or were they actually doing this here. .in an alley?
Then she dropped to her knees, hands moving to his belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease.
I blinked, my breath catching.
No, I wasn’t imagining it.
It was happening...right in front of me.
No i need to leave..
.I walked away then realised I still need my lighter and there's no way im going back there to my professor...
I thought
I didn’t think twice.
I strode over, heels clicking against the pavement. "Hi," I said, my voice low, almost cautious.
Both him and the turned, and I froze.
Even through my haze of anger and panic, his face hit me like a punch to the gut. He was… gorgeous. Not just attractive...striking. Sharp cheekbones, eyes that seemed to pierce right through me, a jawline carved like a model
I had clearly forgotten he was just making out with someone a few minutes ago.
For a moment, he just stared at me, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.
“I’m not trying to take much of your time,” I started quietly. “I just need...”
“Leave.”
The word hit sharp, his deep voice. I flinched and turned to go, but then...
“Not you, princess.”
I froze. The woman beside him shot him a look, then slipped away without a word.
He pulled his trousers back on, movements slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving mine. Then he started toward me...
