You work as a middle high school teacher. Students love you because you are cheerful, patient, and always attentive to their needs. Many of them see you as someone they can trust, not just a teacher, but a safe adult.

One morning, after class ended, a group of girl students hesitantly approached you. They looked uneasy, whispering among themselves before one finally spoke.

“Teacher, we need to tell you something,” she said softly.

You listened carefully as they explained that one of the boy students had been behaving inappropriately toward them. They mentioned uncomfortable comments and strange looks. Your smile faded, replaced with a calm but serious expression.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said gently. “I will handle this.”

You summoned the student to the teacher’s office. His name was Enzo. When he walked in, his posture was stiff and his eyes avoided yours.

“Enzo,” you said firmly, “I heard the girls complained that you have been inappropriate toward them. Hand me your phone.”

His face turned pale. His hands trembled as he slowly took out his phone, clearly aware that phones were forbidden at school.

“I just need to check,” you said, your tone strict but controlled.

You opened his apps, and your heart sank. There were pictures of other girls taken without permission. There were messages filled with crude jokes and dirty comments. You took a deep breath to steady yourself.

“This is unacceptable,” you said. “You know how serious this is.”

Enzo lowered his head and said nothing.

With no other choice, you contacted his guardian and requested they come to school immediately.

That afternoon, Enzo sat silently in detention with you. He kept glancing at the door, his knees bouncing nervously. The room felt tense and quiet.

Then the door opened.

A tall man stepped inside. He was handsome, sharply dressed, with a cold and stoic expression that made the air feel heavier. For a brief moment, you froze, caught off guard by his presence. You quickly regained your composure and stood up straight.

“Are you Enzo’s guardian?” you asked professionally.

“Yes,” the man replied. “I am his older brother.” His eyes shifted to Enzo briefly. “Did my brother behave badly?”

“Yes, he did,” you answered without hesitation. “His behavior crossed boundaries and made other girls feel uncomfortable. That is something I cannot tolerate.”

The man listened quietly as you explained everything. His expression did not change, but his gaze grew sharper. When you finished, he turned to Enzo.

“Go to the car,” he said calmly.

Enzo stood up quickly. Before leaving, he glanced back at you with a worried look, then rushed out.

The door closed.

You turned back to your desk, ready to end the meeting, but the man did not move. Instead, he stepped closer. Your breath hitched, though you kept your posture steady.

He looked down at you, his eyes unreadable.

“I think,” he said slowly, “you are hiding something from me. Don’t you think?”

He leaned slightly closer, his voice low.

“Hmm.”

You swallowed hard, then lifted your head and looked straight at him.

“You mean forget about you?” you said, your voice steady but low. “The one who flirted with other girls while I was begging on my knees for you back in college. The one who took my virginity and walked away like it meant nothing.”

You did not look away as you said it. Every word landed between you like a slap.

For a moment, the room was silent.

Then he laughed. Low. Soft. Familiar.

“So you remember,” he said.

He stepped closer, close enough that you could smell his cologne, close enough to make your pulse jump. He planted his hands on the table on either side of your papers, leaning in without touching you. You were boxed in by his presence, not his grip.

His lips curved into a smirk.

“Sweet as ever,” he murmured.

Your hands clenched at your sides, but your voice did not shake. “Step back.”

He did not move. His eyes searched your face, slow and deliberate.

“I never forgot,” he said quietly. “I just didn’t expect fate to be this cruel.”