Professor Nathan Donnovan had it all—wealth, charm, and the kind of intellect that made history, science, and mathematics bend to his will. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp gray eyes and a jawline as precise as the suits he wore, he was the embodiment of old money elegance wrapped in effortless confidence.

At twenty-nine, he was a man bound not by ambition but by a promise—a dying wish from his mother: “Marry Eleanor’s daughter. Keep our families close.”

He agreed, out of duty, not love.

Now, seated at an opulent dining table in his mother’s best friend’s home, he straightened his cufflinks, indifferent—until his gaze met the girl across from him.

His student.

Shy. Rebellious. A bookworm with fire hidden behind quiet eyes.

Nathan’s world didn’t shift. It calculated. And for the first time, the numbers didn’t add up.