AVA’S POV
The silence stretched between us like a live wire. Professor Thorne stood across the luxurious suite, still as a statue, his dark eyes studying me with that same intensity he brought to dissecting literature. But this wasn't a classroom, and I wasn't his student anymore. At least, not in the way that mattered.
I was the woman he'd just bought for one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.
The thought made my stomach lurch. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed despite being fully clothed.
The white silk dress that had made me feel elegant downstairs now felt like a costume, a lie I was wearing for his benefit.
"You're probably wondering why I'm here," he said finally, his voice cutting through the silence.
"The thought had crossed my mind." My voice came out steadier than I'd expected, which surprised us both.
He moved to the window, looking out over the city lights. From this angle, I could see his profile – the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair fell perfectly despite everything that had happened tonight. Even in this impossible situation, he looked completely in control.
"I received the auction notification three days ago," he said without turning around. "Imagine my surprise when I saw a familiar name among the lots."
Heat flooded my cheeks. He'd known. He'd known it was me when he bid, when he'd sat in that corner watching me stand on the platform like a piece of merchandise.
"So you decided to... what? Teach me another lesson?" The anger in my voice surprised me. "Show me how stupid I was for getting involved in something like this?"
He turned then, and there was something in his expression I'd never seen before. Not the cold distance of the classroom, not the surgical precision of his critiques. Something rawer, more human.
"No, Ava. I came here to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life."
"Stop me?" I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You just paid more money than most people see in years to buy me for the night. How exactly is that stopping me?"
"Because now you're here, with me, instead of with one of them." He gestured toward the door, toward the room full of men who'd been bidding on me like I was livestock. "Do you have any idea what some of those men are capable of? What they would have done to you?"
His words hit me like a slap. I thought about the blond man who'd bid against him, the way he'd looked at me like I was something to be consumed. The older gentleman with the kind eyes who'd somehow made the whole thing feel worse, not better.
"So what?" I said, my voice rising. "You're my knight in shining armor? You swooped in to save me from myself?"
"Something like that."
The casual way he said it made me angrier. Like this was all some academic exercise, another problem for him to solve with his superior intellect.
"I don't need saving," I said through clenched teeth. "I need twenty thousand dollars to keep my sister alive. That's why I'm here. That's the only reason I'm here."
"Your sister." He said it like he was filing the information away for later. "The one in trouble with dangerous people."
"How do you—" I started, then stopped. Of course he knew. He probably knew everything about me. "Yes. My sister. Who's going to get hurt if I don't pay them back."
Professor Thorne walked to a leather briefcase sitting on the suite's desk. He opened it and pulled out a manila envelope, thick with papers.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars," he said, holding it out to me. "Enough to pay your sister's debt and have some left over."
I stared at the envelope like it might bite me. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. The money is yours, free and clear. Along with my silence about your... extracurricular activities."
It was too good to be true. There had to be something else, some hidden price I wasn't seeing.
"In exchange for what?"
"Your employment." He set the envelope on the coffee table between us and sat down in one of the expensive chairs. "I need a research assistant. Someone to help with my upcoming book, handle correspondence, organize my files. The position pays well, and it would look excellent on your academic record."
I felt like I was in some alternate universe. "You want me to be your assistant?"
"I want you to be my property."
The words hung in the air like a physical presence. I felt the blood drain from my face.
"Excuse me?"
"In name only," he added quickly, but the damage was done. "What I mean is, you would be under my protection. My responsibility. No one else could touch you, hurt you, or put you in a position like this again."
"Your property," I repeated, my voice hollow.
"It's not what you think." He leaned forward, his hands clasped. "You would continue your studies, live your life, make your own choices. But officially, you would belong to me. It's an old arrangement, one that provides certain... protections in circles like the one downstairs."
I stood up so fast the room spun. "Are you insane? You think I'm going to trade one form of prostitution for another?"
"That's not what this is."
"Isn't it?" I was shouting now, all the fear and anger and humiliation of the night pouring out at once. "You pay for me, you own me, you get to control my life? How is that different from what those other men wanted?"
He stood too, his composure finally cracking. "Because I'm not going to touch you!" The words exploded from him with a force that made me step back. "Because I'm trying to protect you from a world that would destroy you without a second thought!"
"I never asked for your protection!"
"No, you asked for money to save your sister. And I'm giving it to you, with no strings attached except a job that will help your career." His voice dropped back to its normal controlled tone, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. "All you have to do is trust me."
Trust him. The man who'd humiliated me in class, who'd just bought me at an auction, who was now asking me to become his "property" in exchange for money and protection I'd never asked for.
The rage that had been building all night finally boiled over. Before I could think, before I could stop myself, my hand flew through the air and connected with his cheek in a sharp crack that echoed through the suite.
Professor Thorne's head snapped to the side, a red mark already blooming across his pale skin. For a moment, we both stood frozen, staring at each other in shock.
Then his lips curved into something that might have been a smile.
"I suppose I deserved that," he said, his voice perfectly calm as he touched his reddened cheek.
I was breathing hard, my hand stinging from the impact. "Stay away from me and…” The words caught in my throat when he suddenly appeared in front of me.
"The money is still yours, Miss Moreau. That's my offer for giving you that money, with no conditions attached." He sounded dangerous as he straightened his tie, every inch the composed professor again. "I'll see you Monday morning, Ava."
I froze with my hand on the doorknob. "What did you just call me?"
Did he just call me Ava, not Miss Moreau?
But when I turned around, he was already walking toward the window, dismissing me like I was just another student who'd failed to understand the lesson.