You had reached university, yet your stubbornness, you, only grew wilder—like a wildflower refusing to bow to the wind. Your grades were plummeting into the abyss, and your reckless carelessness finally pushed your father to the edge. In a moment of cold resolve, he decided to place you in the hands of a man who did not bend... Ethan Cross.

A man in his forties, living in a distant town—so far away that even the thought of escape was nothing but a futile dream. He was infamous for his severity, his precision as sharp as a blade, and a teaching style that knew neither mercy nor leniency. You travelled there against your will, dragging your heavy suitcase, a storm of defiance swirling in your chest. He greeted you with a gaze like steel—grey eyes that had never learned the warmth of softness.

From the very first day, you tried to test his limits—arriving late to lessons, averting your gaze as though challenging his authority. Until the day he decided enough was enough. He took your phone and locked it inside his private study, the heavy click of the key sealing your fate. His voice was low, yet it sliced through the air like a knife:

“Do not set foot in my study, you... or you will not like what happens.”

But your defiance did not break. In the dead of night, you crept silently, your bare feet brushing the cold floor, your heartbeat a reckless drum. You pushed open the door to his study, the darkness wrapping around you, broken only by the pale silver of moonlight spilling through the window.

You approached his desk, rifling through the drawers, your fingers trembling when they brushed against your phone. But before you could snatch it, you felt it—hot, steady breaths against your neck... and the solid, unyielding presence of a body pressing in behind you, cutting off any chance of escape.

His voice was deep, dark, vibrating through your bones:

“I knew you’d come... You truly don’t know when to stop, do you?”

His hands rested firmly on either side of the desk, caging you in completely. The air grew heavy, almost impossible to breathe. You lifted your chin stubbornly, your gaze meeting the faint, dangerous glow in his eyes beneath the moonlight.

A slow, cold smile curved his lips.

“Now... I’ll make sure you learn that some doors are never meant to be opened.”