Isabella had never packed her things so fast. Her hands shook as she shoved her notebook into her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder as though it could shield her from the man still lingering at the front of the room.
Adrian Cole hadn't dismissed her, not really. He hadn't needed to. His words still clung to her like invisible chains. If you're going to step into my class… you'd better learn how to follow my rules.
What rules?
And why did the way he said it make her feel as though he wasn't just talking about class?
"Hey, you okay?"
Isabella blinked and turned to find her classmate, Riley, hovering beside her with curious eyes. Riley had been sitting three rows back, close enough to notice her humiliation.
"I'm fine," Isabella lied, forcing a smile. "Just… first day nerves."
Riley raised an eyebrow. "You mean first day hot professor nerves. Don't tell me you didn't notice? The guy looks like he walked out of a GQ cover."
Isabella flushed. She didn't want to admit that she had noticed. That every nerve in her body had been on edge the entire class, not from attraction, but from something heavier. Darker.
"He's intense," Isabella said carefully.
"Intense is one word for it. Sexy as hell is another," Riley giggled, bumping her shoulder. "You're lucky. If he stares at you like that every class, you're either going to ace the course… or burn alive."
Isabella forced a laugh, but her mind replayed the look in his eyes. It hadn't been flirtation. It had been possession.
She shook the thought away and hurried toward the exit.
But she didn't make it far.
"Miss Hart."
The voice froze her mid-step. Students brushed past her, filtering out of the hall until the room thinned, and silence settled again. Slowly, she turned back.
Adrian Cole was still there. Standing at the lectern, his jacket unbuttoned now, his tie loosened just enough to expose the strong line of his throat. He looked relaxed, but there was nothing casual in the way his gaze held her.
"Yes, Professor?" Her voice came out too soft.
His lips curved faintly. "You should learn to manage your time better. Being late to my class isn't an option."
"I understand."
"Do you?" His head tilted slightly, assessing her. "Because understanding isn't the same as obedience."
The way he said the word obedience sent a shiver through her.
"I'll do better next time," Isabella said quickly, clutching her bag strap tighter.
He hummed, as though amused. "See that you do."
With that, he turned away, gathering his papers with a finality that dismissed her more effectively than words ever could.
Isabella fled before he could change his mind.
The rest of the day passed in a blur, but his presence haunted her. By the time evening rolled around, she was restless. She worked part-time at a small café near downtown, and usually the routine soothed her, the hiss of the espresso machine, the chatter of customers, the smell of roasted beans.
But tonight, nothing worked. Every time she blinked, she saw those eyes. Heard that voice.
She hated it. She didn't come here for distractions. She came here to finish her degree, to put distance between herself and the past she didn't talk about.
At nine p.m., the café emptied out. She tied her apron around her waist tighter, humming under her breath as she wiped down tables. The bell over the door jingled.
"Sorry, we're clo…" Her words caught in her throat.
Adrian Cole stood there.
In a different suit this time, darker, sharper. No tie. No trace of academia clinging to him. He didn't look like a professor now. He looked like something else entirely.
Isabella's hand froze on the cloth. "Professor Cole?"
He smiled faintly, but it wasn't kind. "Miss Hart. What a surprise."
Her pulse hammered. "What are you doing here?"
"Business." His eyes flicked over the café with disdain, as though it were beneath him. "And you?"
"I work here."
"Of course you do." He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator circling prey. "Tell me, Miss Hart, does your boss know you skip class for shifts like this?"
Her chest tightened. "I don't skip class."
"You will if you're not careful." His gaze pinned her in place, and she swore she saw something flicker behind his eyes. Amusement. Warning. Both.
"I'll manage," Isabella whispered, though she wasn't sure why she felt the need to defend herself.
He leaned down, close enough that she caught his cologne, dark, musky, intoxicating. "Manage carefully. Because if I find out you're lying to me, Miss Hart… there will be consequences."
The bell jingled again. Another man entered. Broad, tattooed, dangerous-looking. He glanced between Adrian and Isabella, then dipped his head in silent respect.
"Boss," the man said.
Boss.
Isabella's blood ran cold.
Adrian didn't correct him. He didn't even blink. He just adjusted his cuffs, his attention never leaving her.
"I'll see you in class, Miss Hart." His voice was velvet over steel, smooth and terrifying. "Don't be late."
Then he walked out with the stranger at his side, leaving her breathless, trembling, and with the horrifying realization that her professor wasn't just a professor.
He was something much, much worse.