A month slid by, and the class had changed. The kids who once booed were now sprinting to her lessons, hungry for the madness she brought.
Even Edward, Eddy now, was warming up. Turned out, the cocky bastard was a natural on piano, and though he still tried to flex, he'd long since bent to her rhythm.
They swore in her class, joked like sailors, roasted each other to the bone, Alex's only rule was that it couldn't get too vile. And the result? It was the most alive the music wing had ever felt.
That day, Eddy stormed in first, practically skidding across the floor. "Alex! You won't believe it. New baddie just arrived, straight-up goddess material. The whole school's talking."
Alex didn't even look up from the cello she was tuning. She just swung her hand lightly into the back of his head. "Sit down before you're the first one presenting your Chopin assignment, dumbass."
"Ugh," Eddy groaned, rubbing his neck as he slouched into his seat. "Slave driver."
The rest of the students trickled in, buzzing, curious. Just as the chatter peaked, the door opened again, not by a student, but the director himself. The room instantly straightened.
"This is an important day," the director began, voice clipped. "You'll have a new classmate joining you for the semester. Her parents are… influential. I expect her to be treated with the respect she deserves."
His gaze snapped to Alex, lingering like a knife. And that goes for you too, bitch.
Alex gave the faintest smile, lazy and mocking. She didn't blink.
And then she walked in.
She walked in like she owned the place.
Tall, graceful, and devastatingly beautiful, built like she belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine, but with the kind of confidence that said: I'm not here to fit in. You'll adjust to me.
Her cheekbones were carved sharp and high, giving her face the kind of cruel elegance sculptors only dream of capturing.
Her mouth full, very kissable.
Her hair fell in thick, blonde and dark waves, perfect like she'd rolled out of bed flawless just to piss everyone else off.
Even her hands looked deliberate, fingers long, nails glossed, resting like they belonged on piano keys or curled around a throat.
Her breast sat high, firm and voluptuous, like life had decided she deserved all the symmetry no one else got.
Her waist cut sharp into a curve that dipped into hips made for...well, everyone could fill in that blank for themselves.
Her ass wasn't the ass of someone who starved herself for the runway. Plump enough to grab attention, firm enough to prove it is all natural.
She stepped to the front of the class with a smiling, her voice soft but ringing like a silver bell.
"My name is Anoushka Sharapova."
It's the kind of smile that tells you she knows exactly the effect she has on you and what you're thinking, and she's already three moves ahead.
Sweet at a glance, but underneath it there's something predatory, something that promises she'll ruin you and you'd beg her to do it again.
Her brain short-circuited in the worst way:Perfect hair. Perfect face. Perfect body. Perfect smile. Dangerous smile. God, she's dangerous. Why am I sweating? Why am I actually sweating?
Alex shoved her hands in her pockets, forcing her jaw to set in its usual lazy smirk. Get it together. You're the teacher. She's a student. Don't drool, don't stare, don't...
Anoushka's eyes slid to hers for half a second. Just a flicker. Just enough.
Alex's stomach dropped. Oh no. She knows. I am a fucking pervert.
Snapping out of it, she cleared her throat, thanked the director, and gestured at the empty rows."Take a seat anywhere."
Eddie immediately leaned over and kicked his seatmate's shin under the desk. "Right here, gorgeous, this seat's dying for some class."
Anoushka's gaze cut toward him, slow and deliberate, like a cat sizing up a mouse. She tilted her head, one brow arching high, the corner of her mouth curving into that lethal smile.
"Oh, sweetheart," she purred, sliding her bag off her shoulder with calculated grace, "if I wanted to sit next to a clown, I'd go to the circus. Besides, your seat is mine"
Eddie sprawled in his chair, cocky grin plastered across his face."Come on! Not even a first date and you're already fighting to sit on my lap? Naughty. Is that part of Russian culture? I'm liking it, sweetie."
She set her bag on the desk, her smirk widening. "You want to keep it, you earn it."Then, without missing a beat, she glanced toward Alex. "You'll be the judge."
Alex's throat went dry. "...Excuse me?"
"A duel," Anoushka purred, leaning one hand on Eddie's desk. "Your boy here versus me. Winner takes the throne."
Eddie straightened, puffing his chest out. "Darling, I'll have you know, I'll knock your panties clean off with my skills."
The class howled. Alex almost swallowed her own cough, trying to cover it with a wheezy croak that sounded like a ninety-year-old chain smoker. "Language," she muttered weakly, but nobody heard her over the chaos.
"Bring the second piano,"Anoushka said, tossing her hair back. It wasn't a request.
Two students rushed to roll out the extra piano from the corner. The room fell into a hush as Eddie cracked his knuckles and launched into a thunderous Rachmaninoff, his fingers pounding the keys with all the intensity his rich-boy lessons had ever drilled into him.
"Not bad,"Anoushka murmured as she slipped in, picking up his tempo and tossing it back faster, sharper, her body loose and easy as if she wasn't even trying. The class leaned forward, jaws dropping.
Eddie growled, pivoting hard into Chopin's Fantaisie-Impromptu, fingers flying. But before he could crest into the climax, Anoushka cut across him, dragging the tempo down, slowing it into something sultry and deliberate, owning the moment with a flick of her wrist.
He clenched his jaw, sweat prickling his temple. "Fine," he spat, slamming into Debussy's La fille aux cheveux de lin, trying for delicacy, restraint.
Anoushka slid right in, matching him note for note, her reverie lighter, freer like a dream he couldn't catch. The sound shimmered between them, tension twisting into harmony so unexpected the room buzzed.
By the end, the class exploded in applause. Even Eddie laughed breathlessly, lifting his hands in defeat. "Fair. Seat's yours."
Anoushka dropped gracefully into his chair, then patted the desk beside her. "You—" she said to the poor kid Eddie had kicked earlier, "—sit with me."
Then her eyes flicked back to Alex. A slow smirk. A blade's edge. "And you...stop drooling. I'm exactly as good as you think. Take that however you want."
The class erupted again, half hoots, half oooohs.
Alex's stomach lurched. Her pulse hammered. God, shut up. Don't move. Don't do anything stupid.
But all she could think about was the way Anoushka's mouth had curved around that last word, and how badly she wanted to drag her somewhere quiet and kiss those insolent lips until she begged.
The students piled on, laughing, whistling, banging on their desks.
Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, heat crawling up her neck.
"Okay...credit where it's due. I'm impressed."She let the words hang, slow and deliberate. "But you all know what kind of beast I am. Play nice, Anoushka, and you'll see why, soon enough."
She waved a hand, final. "Welcome to the class. Now open your books. Let's get to work."