In this twisted relationship, I was nothing more than a tool for him to exact revenge on my father.
The ridiculous part? I naively believed that if I loved him enough, I could melt the ice encasing his heart.
Outside the window behind me, the rain poured harder and harder.
Yet my heart, much like the storm outside, grew colder with each passing moment.
My phone suddenly vibrated—it was a message from my best friend.
[I heard the eldest son of the Myers family has set his eye on you. Your father is considering this match.]
I stared at the screen, and for the first time, a new thought crossed my mind.
The rain continued, its fine threads tapping against the glass, mirroring the small, stinging ache in my heart.
I stood at the back door of the classroom, my eyes fixed on Flynn at the podium.
He was lecturing senior students, clad in a crisp white shirt that made his already cold features seem even more aloof.
“Professor Stewart topped the teaching evaluations again this month,” the assistant's voice reached my ears.
The head of the department beamed, “He's young and capable, and the principal’s son to boot—his future is limitless.”
Yes, he was always the best.
Even when it came to hurting someone, he managed to do it flawlessly.
The class bell rang. As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.
“Livia, come here for a moment.”
Lowering my head, I walked over cautiously, fearing that anyone might notice something unusual between us.
He pulled a test paper from his drawer.
“You got this question wrong. Rewrite it.”
His casual tone carried an undertone of danger.
It wasn’t until the classroom emptied that he took the revised paper from my hands.
With a red pen, he drew a sharp mark across it.
“Still wrong. Come to my office tonight—I’ll teach you personally.”
My lips trembled as I bit down to stop myself from speaking.
I knew exactly what awaited me.
Every “tutoring session” was nothing but a grueling test of endurance.
At eight p.m., I stood outside his office door right on time.
Seated behind his desk, he didn’t even bother to look up.
“Lock the door.” His voice was as cold as ice.
The moment I turned the lock, he pressed me against the wall.
His kiss was rough, almost violent.
“Watched me through an entire lecture—had your fill yet?”
He gripped my waist so tightly that it hurt, making me gasp.
“Not here… someone might…” I stuttered.
I struggled to push him away.
“Afraid of what?" He smirked. “Aren’t you the best at pretending?
“In front of your father, you’re the perfect daughter. In front of me, you're just a little slut…”
Before he could finish, a sudden, urgent knock echoed through the room.
“Flynn, are you there? Laica Smith is back from abroad. She’s looking for you.”
Flynn froze in place, his movements halted abruptly.
I saw a flicker of something indescribable in his eyes.
Laica Smith.
That name was all too familiar.
She was Flynn's first love, the woman he cherished most.
They had parted ways only because she left to pursue her doctorate overseas.
And I? I was merely his pastime over these three lonely years.
“He's not responding. I guess he’s not here,” the voice outside concluded before retreating.
Flynn released me and straightened his clothes, heading for the door.
This was the first time that he didn't finish his business with me before walking away.
“Stay here. Don’t move.” He left those words and walked out.
I slowly slid against the wall. I sat on the cold floor, staring at the direction he had disappeared. My chest ached bitterly.
So, when faced with true love, I wasn’t even worth the effort to humiliate?
My phone vibrated again—it was a message from my best friend.
[The Myers family heir said he’d like to take you to dinner tomorrow. He seems serious about you.]
Just as I was about to reply, another notification popped up.
