Do I Have A Thing With My Professor?
Lilac Stone once wanted nothing more than being unnoticed. But everything changed the moment she met Adrian Cole, the new lecturer.
He's distant and completely off-limits. She's quiet, guarded, and unprepared for the way he sees right through her.
What begins as harmless conversations after class quickly turns into something far more dangerous-something neither of them can stop no matter how hard they try.
But then they're living in a world where rules are meant to be followed, and their connection is one line they were never supposed to cross.
Whispers turn to accusations. Secrets are exposed. Their futures are at risk.
They are merely two opposites-a lecturer and a student, a male and a female-but they are bound to destroy each other as long as they are huddled in one space at the same time.
What then can they choose: forfeit their futures and embrace their happiness, or let the latter slip while keeping their careers intact?
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Chapter 1
Lilac.
At twenty, I had mastered the art of staying invisible.
I move slowly between two rows in the crowded lecture hall as my eyes scan the seats for a column with scarce students, or less high-class people.
Once I find it in the fourth to the first column, I take my seat and bend my head over my notebook, scribbling words I barely understand.
It's not like I'm not smart. I am. But life has taught me to shrink. It has made me get used to avoiding attention and existing quietly.
Well, until him...
Silence follows the new lecturer the moment he walks in. Usually, I wouldn't care about that. But this particular moment stuns me. It captures my attention despite the deafening quietness.
And I'm not the only one.
While the others wow in their amazement, mine lingers in my head, leaking into my heart and forming a big ball of light that threatens to explode through my eyes.
The man standing on the podium is nothing like the lecturers I've met in my two years of being in college.
He's different. Too different.
His presence commands attention without trying, his height as intimidating as his composure is compelling.
'Dr. Adrian Cole,' he sketches on the whiteboard in bold and signature-like letters.
"You may simply address me as Cole, if you wish," he states calmly with a voice that carries authority and something softer beneath it.
"I will be taking you on Literature," he continues, "which isn't just about words, but about what we are too afraid to say."
"Sir!" a voice bounces through the hall. I look around, confused as all eyes turn to me.
Wait! That was me! I am the one who just interrupted the teacher, and now my hand is hanging up in the air, and I don't know how to stand up and defend my action.
For some moments, Cole's eyes meet mine, and everything stills. Embarrassment flushes over me, and I can actually feel my cheeks burning.
"Yes, Miss..."
"Stone." I nervously rise to my feet. "My name is Lilac Stone."
"Alright. Miss Lilac Stone, what did you want to add?"
I find myself searching deeply for what to say.
What was I going to say?
"Um..." I lick my lips, my fingers twisting with nervousness in front of my thighs. "I um... I was going to ask how literature is not just about words but about what we're too afraid to say."
Cole smiles while nodding. "Okay. Good question."
I try to sit down, but the lecturer stops me. "Uh-uh. Keep standing while I present another question to you, Miss Stone," he notes, and I quietly obey. "What do you do in a situation where you offend someone you care about, for example? Now you wanna apologize, but you cannot really see yourself speaking to them one on one-sometimes due to pride, other times because you're... embarrassed."
I rack my brain for a response. Left to me, I would let the matter die down. Although, if it still lingers, I could send a text with my apology...
"Send a text?" I respond.
The class bursts into laughter, and I really don't know why. A wider smile appears on the lecturer's face too.
"You are correct, Miss Stone. Now how this relates to Literature is basically..."
I don't give a fuck about what Cole has to say about literature. In fact, I wasn't even a tiny bit curious about what I asked.
I guess I just did that to get his attention, and I saw the shock on the faces of the class. They know I don't participate in class activities. This could well be my first time ever saying a thing in class since last semester.
But... here we are.
I broke the barrier!
I'm standing in a class of a hundred students, making eye contact with a bloody lecturer while having all sorts of mixed emotions tumble within me.
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8.0
When gifted cellist Vivienne Aurel inherits her late father's catastrophic $4.2 million debt, she expects to lose everything. She doesn't expect the debt to be bought by Caspian Vane, the most feared private equity magnate in New York. Caspian doesn't want to ruin her; he wants her to work exclusively for him as the artistic director of his new cultural foundation for eighteen months. Forced into his world under a binding agreement, Vivienne prepares to fight against a cold, transactional cage. But as the intense, quiet proximity between them begins to blur the lines of their contract, she discovers a terrifying truth: the man who now owns her future has been watching her from the shadows long before she ever knew his name.
9.3
She sells flowers. He spills blood. And he will stop at nothing to make her his. Elena Rossi has always lived quietly among roses and lilies, dreaming of love as gentle as the petals she arranges. She thought she found it in Daniel, the man she planned to marry. Until her wedding day when a dangerous stranger walked into the church and shattered everything. Adrian Volkov is a king in the underworld, a man feared for his ruthlessness and power. But to him, Elena is not just a prize. She is an obsession. A storm he cannot live without. And he will burn the world and anyone in it, to claim her. Torn from the life she knew, Elena resists him, manipulates him, and even runs from him. But Adrian is relentless. His love is dark, his touch both punishing and tender, and his obsession inescapable. When betrayal and bloodshed close in, Elena must face the truth: She doesn't just fear him. She doesn't just hate him. She loves him. Petals and Blood is a haunting, passionate tale of obsession, betrayal, and the dangerous kind of love that blooms in shadows.
7.2
Clifton, the god of esports, was secretly battling a career-ending wrist injury to protect his team.
A year ago, he kissed his duo partner, Justice, only to be met with violent disgust. Justice shoved him away and dry-heaved in the rain, looking at him like a monster.
Humiliated by the straight man's raw revulsion, Clifton cut him out of his life.
But now, Justice suddenly appeared at Clifton's club as a rookie tryout.
Instead of an ambitious climber, Justice played the perfect, pathetic victim. He cowered, trembled, and acted terrified whenever Clifton was near.
He even signed a bloodsucking contract with a toxic teammate, sparking rumors he was brought in to replace Clifton as captain.
During a scrimmage, Clifton hesitated to shoot because he remembered Justice had just severely burned his hand.
Justice showed no mercy. He ruthlessly gunned Clifton down, humiliating the captain in front of the entire coaching staff.
Clifton was consumed by blinding rage and betrayal.
If Justice was so disgusted by him, why did he fake his devotion for six months just to use him?
Why was he acting like helpless prey now, after trampling all over Clifton's pride?
Determined to rip off the liar's disguise, Clifton dragged Justice into a live stream in front of sixty thousand viewers.
"He's asking if you are in love with me."
Clifton smiled cruelly, waiting for the public execution. But just as the trap snapped shut, a choked, terrified gasp came through the headset.
8.3
My husband watched as my skin melted, scalded by boiling soup, yet his hands were busy comforting my attacker. Five years of marriage, built on a foundation of my family's power, crumbled with a single, brutal act of betrayal. He bought me off with a penthouse and a trust fund, but I tore out my IV and threw his charity back in his face.
It was our fifth anniversary, but my husband, Ethan, remained distant, avoiding any talk of Chicago or the mafia protection my family once offered him. He then pushed a black velvet box across the table.
Inside was a Separation and Property Division Agreement, not a diamond. He told me to sign for Ilene's security, offering millions. When I refused, Ilene hurled boiling soup. Ethan shielded her, not me, as the scalding liquid melted my dress.
With second-degree burns, he blamed me, ordering me from our home for Ilene’s comfort. My family saved him, yet he sacrificed my body and marriage for another woman.
The love I felt turned to ash. What kind of debt demanded my flesh and marriage?
I ripped the IV from my arm, hurling his "charity" keys back. My diamond ring placed on the agreement, I walked away. From today on, Ethan, you and I are dead to each other.
9.1
My husband, Dante Moretti, the feared Underboss, signed the divorce papers I slipped him without a glance. Too busy texting his true love, Sofia, he was blind to the annulment decree ending everything. The Reaper couldn't see the death of his own marriage.
For three years, I was Elena, his silent wife, the "Caged Canary," cleaning his messes while meticulously planning my escape from our loveless world.
He dismissed me for Sofia's every whim, publicly shaming me after a past love letter was read, then abandoning me again for her fake crisis.
That night, he violently shoved me against a wall, leaving me bleeding and concussed, rushing instead to protect Sofia. Discarded and injured, my invisible love became a weapon against me.
His crushing blindness, the cold realization I was a mere placeholder, fueled a profound injustice. How could he be so lethal, yet oblivious to his wife, favoring the one who betrayed him?
With chilling resolve, I uploaded Sofia's confession, initiated a massive financial transfer dismantling his empire, and staged my own death. Under a new identity, I fled to San Francisco, ready to build my power, far from his bloody, deceitful world.
9.7
Sienna woke up in a hospital room, her body screaming from a severe car accident. Through the glass, a man paced with violent rage, a dark shadow she felt absolutely nothing for.
Her friend Julia burst in, eyes bloodshot, dropping a bomb: "He didn't even try to help you." Dante, Sienna's fiancé, had protected another woman, Valeria, in the crash, leaving Sienna to burn alive.
Her past life unspooled – seven years sacrificed, an architecture degree abandoned, all to serve Dante. Her phone was a shrine to him: his photos, his "taboos," and even "Valeria's preferences," with no trace of Sienna herself.
But amnesia brought no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating fury. She felt disgust for the "idiot" she'd been, stripped of dignity. The memory loss was a release, a blank slate.
With chilling resolve, Sienna deleted every trace of Dante. Ripping out her IV, she declared, "The wedding proceeds." Not for love, but as a weapon: "I need to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear."