The moment Isabella Hart pushed open the heavy lecture hall doors, she knew she was late.
Dozens of eyes turned toward her, and the scrape of her heels against the tiled floor echoed like a gunshot. She hated attention. She hated the way whispers began the second she entered a room. But today, it was worse, because of the man standing at the front of the room.
Her new professor.
Adrian Cole.
He wasn't what she expected. Professors were supposed to be balding, middle-aged men with coffee stains on their shirts. Not this. Not tall, broad-shouldered, devastatingly handsome, with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. His dark suit fit him too perfectly, too expensively, like it belonged on a CEO striding through a boardroom instead of a university classroom.
And his eyes… God, his eyes.
They were sharp and merciless, black as sin, fixed on her as though he could see every secret she'd ever tried to bury.
"Miss…" His deep voice cut through the silence, low and commanding. "Care to tell us why you're interrupting my class?"
Her mouth went dry. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and the stares of fifty other students pressed into her skin like knives.
"I…I got lost," Isabella stammered, clutching her notebook tighter to her chest.
The corner of his lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. More like a warning. "You'll find that excuses don't work with me."
Her chest rose and fell quickly. She nodded, muttered an apology, and slipped into the nearest empty seat. But even as he turned back to the board, chalk scratching across the surface, she couldn't look away.
Something about him felt… wrong. His presence was too commanding, his stare too sharp, like a predator watching his prey.
He didn't look like a professor. He looked like the kind of man who owned people's future, and destroyed them if they crossed him.
And yet, she couldn't tear her eyes away.
When the lecture continued, Isabella tried to focus. She scribbled down notes, though half of what he said went over her head. Every time his gaze flickered across the room, her pulse spiked, terrified he would call on her again.
But he didn't. He just taught with the kind of intensity that made the air feel heavier, thicker, as though every word was a command instead of a lesson.
By the time the class ended, Isabella exhaled a shaky breath. Relief washed through her as students began to shuffle out, laughter and chatter filling the air. She shoved her notebook into her bag quickly, eager to escape.
But before she could stand, a shadow fell across her desk.
Her head snapped up.
Adrian Cole was standing there. Too close. His height blocked the light, his scent, expensive cologne with a dark, musky undertone, filling her lungs until she almost choked.
"Stay behind."
Two words. Low. Final. Not a request.
Her stomach dropped. "I…did I do something wrong?" she stammered.
He leaned closer, bracing one hand on her desk. His presence consumed her, every inch of him radiating authority and something darker she couldn't name. His voice dropped, rough, meant only for her.
"Rule number one, Miss Hart," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "If you're going to step into my class… you'd better learn how to follow my rules."
Her pulse spiked. She couldn't look away. His eyes were too dark, too deep, like they might swallow her whole.
"I…I understand." Her voice cracked, and she hated the way it made her sound weak.
But his lips twitched, as though he liked it. As though he enjoyed her unease.
He straightened, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Good. Then we won't have a problem."
For a moment, he simply looked at her, his gaze traveling over her in a way that wasn't quite appropriate. Her chest, her lips, back to her eyes. Heat crawled up her neck.
Then he walked away, slow and deliberate, leaving her shaken.
Isabella sat frozen, her hands trembling around her bag strap. She had the sudden, bone-deep certainty that Adrian Cole wasn't just a professor.
He was dangerous.
And she had just walked straight into his game.