The classroom lights dimmed as the instructor addressed us from the front, her tone sharp, clinical.
"Seduction is a weapon. It's not about love, it's not about pleasure. It's leverage. Today, each of you will attempt to seduce your partner into giving up their assigned code word. That's your mission. Nothing more, nothing less. Fail, and you wash out of this exercise. Succeed, and you prove you can manipulate when it counts."
The projector flicked on.
Bartowski — Miller.
Carina Miller's lips curled into a slow grin. She strutted over, sliding into the chair across from me like a cat that had already caught its prey. "Well, this is going to be easy," she said, her voice dripping with confidence. "They gave me the nerd."
I gave her a calm look. "You sure about that?"
She smirked. "Oh, I know."
The exercise began. Carina went straight to her weapon of choice — herself. She leaned in, letting her perfume fill the air, brushing her fingers against my arm, lips close enough that her breath tickled my skin. Her voice was low, husky, practiced.
"Come on, Chuck," she whispered, eyes glinting. "You want to tell me. Just give me the word… and maybe I'll give you what you're already imagining."
To anyone else, she would've been unstoppable. But I wasn't anyone else.
Instead of retreating, I leaned in too — not with desperation, but with control. My hand brushed hers, lingering just enough, and I let a smile tug at my lips.
"You're good," I said softly. "But you push too hard. Seduction isn't about rushing to the end. It's about making someone crave it. You give them just enough, and they'll beg for more."
Her eyes narrowed, intrigued.
I stood, offered her my hand. She took it without thinking. I pulled her to her feet, and with the faint music playing over the speakers, I spun her lightly — a dance, fluid and confident, close enough to tease, never enough to give. Her breath caught, her guard lowering with every step.
My fingers brushed the curve of her back, my voice just above a whisper. "See, the trick isn't giving everything. It's giving just enough to leave you wanting."
Her cheeks flushed. Her smile trembled. For once, Carina Miller — master of seduction — was caught in someone else's rhythm.
And then, almost without realizing it, she whispered the word. Her code.
I stopped. Smiled. "Thank you."
Carina blinked, the realization hitting her like a brick. "Wait—"
But it was too late. I'd already won.
The instructor's voice cut in sharply. "Bartowski passes."
Carina sank back into her chair, stunned. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a new smile — not smug this time, but grudgingly impressed. "Well, damn. I thought you were going to trip over yourself. Instead you had me saying the word before I even realized."
I leaned back, calm, collected. "That's the point. Give just enough. By the time they want more… it's already too late."
She shook her head, laughing under her breath. "You're dangerous, Chuck. And I like dangerous."
As we left the room, I caught Sarah's eyes across the hall. She'd been watching. No smile, no smirk — just that quiet, assessing look.
For the first time, she didn't see a nerd fumbling his way through.
She saw someone who belonged.