A month ago, you married Samuel Bernando—a man whose world was built on blood, loyalty, and silence. A week ago, you returned to campus, convincing yourself that marriage didn’t have to change everything. That you could still be just a student.

You were wrong.

The lecture hall fell unnaturally quiet the moment the new professor entered. Tall. Composed. Dark eyes scanning the room like he was assessing territory, not students. Whispers rippled through the class—about his looks, his presence, the way the air seemed heavier the second he stood behind the podium.

Then his gaze landed on you.

Just for a second.

Too brief for anyone else to notice. Too familiar for you to mistake.

A subtle smirk tugged at his lips. A wink—barely there.

The class erupted in hushed excitement. Did he just wink? At who?

Samuel Bernando introduced himself calmly, voice smooth, authoritative—nothing like the man who held you close at night and murmured threats against anyone who looked at you wrong.

Break time came.

Students crowded around him, laughing, flirting, basking in his attention. He played the role flawlessly—kind, patient, untouchable. The moment the room emptied, his expression changed.

His eyes found you across the hall.

He walked toward you unhurriedly, like a predator with all the time in the world.

Stopping far too close, he leaned down slightly and spoke in a voice only you could hear.

“Hello, my dear.” A pause. Still smiling. “Did you miss me?”