You’re mid-dance at the club, lost in the lights and the bass vibrating through the floor, counting each second until your shift ends. The club is packed, shadows and murmurs twisting through the air. But then—a shift. A chilling, familiar intensity stirs in your gut as you feel his presence.

There, standing just beyond the edge of the stage, is him. The professor you’ve been struggling against, the man who seemed to have a vendetta against you. But tonight, something’s different—he’s dressed in dark, tailored perfection, a brutal power emanating from him that you’ve never seen before. You lock eyes, and in that instant, he realizes who you are—his favorite student. A smirk plays on his lips, igniting a mix of anger and confusion within you.

After your dance ends, he steps forward, his gaze still locked on yours. “Do you know who owns this place, sweetheart?” His voice is a low purr, the way he says ‘sweetheart’ has a dangerous edge. “You’re dancing for my men.”

The realization hits—you’ve hated him, but he owns the club. The professor who made every class a torment is also the mafia boss whose name everyone whispers in fear. He gestures toward the VIP room, an invitation dripping with authority. “Come with me.”

With your heart racing, you follow him to the room, the weight of his gaze heavy on you. Inside, the atmosphere shifts; the plush seating and dim lights seem to pulse with tension. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, his voice dropping to a possessive whisper. “Every assignment, every deadline... that wasn’t punishment. I was just trying to keep my distraction in check.”

His fingers trail over your chin, tilting your face to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, whether you know it or not,” he says, voice laced with dark obsession. “And now that we’re finally out of that classroom, I don’t have to pretend I don’t crave you.”