Page 17

"Oh, nothing," he said, loud enough for the whole office to hear. "Just find it interesting that a teacher who plays… certain games in bars gets to rep the school for a bigwig like Sokolov."His eyes flicked to my phone with a knowing look.

The room went dead quiet. I could feel eyes on me, and my face burned. My pen nearly snapped in my hand. "Tom," I gritted out, "drop it."

"Drop what?" His smirk was pure venom. "Just saying, the whole 'truth or dare' thing at Blue Hour? Sending private picsto some rando? Real classy, Cassie. Wonder what Mr. Sokolov would think about a teacher with your… style." He lingered on private pics like it was a weapon.

"Tom!" Jennifer jumped up, fuming. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Just stating facts," he said, shrugging with that smug grin. "Miss Goody-Two-Shoes here acts all professional, but we all know she's got a wild side. Sending naughty texts? That's bold. What's next, Cassie? Stripping for the PTA?"

"Shut up!" I was on my feet now, shaking with rage. "It was a stupid game, and I didn't send—"

"What, nudes?" Tom cut me off, his voice louder, dripping with mockery. "Come on, don't play innocent. You're all prim and proper in class, but after hours? Damn, girl, you're open for business."

"Tom Johnson!" Jennifer snapped. "You're out of line!"

"Out of line?" He stepped closer, towering over me with that gross, superior look. "I'm just wondering why someone who's so… liberal with strangers keeps shutting me down. What, I'm not good enough for you? Or do you only get freaky with guys behind a screen?"

He raised a hand, like he was about to touch my shoulder—or worse, my face. "Don't you dare," I snapped, stumbling back into the desk. Papers scattered everywhere. "You smug, twisted jerk! My personal life is none of your business!"

"Chill, Cassie," he sneered, his hand hovering, eyes glinting like a snake's. "If you're cool sending pics to strangers, what's wrong with letting me take a peek? Stop acting so high and mighty."

"Enough."

A voice sliced through the room, low and cold as a winter storm. Everyone froze.

I turned, and there he was.

Gennady Sokolov.

Holy shit.

Even in the middle of that mess, the sight of him hit me like a freight train. He was tall—stupidly tall, like six-foot-three at least, with shoulders so broad they filled the doorway. His dark suit was tailored to perfection, hugging every line of a body that screamed power. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, lips pressed into a hard line. And those eyes—God, those eyes. Deep emerald green, like polished gems, but burning with a cold, controlled fury. His silver-gray hair was swept back, not a strand out of place, making him look like some kind of mafia kingpin straight out of a movie. Dangerous. Untouchable. And so damn gorgeous it was unfair.

Tom's hand dropped like he had been burned. The air felt ten degrees colder.

"Mr. Sokolov!" Mr. Willson scrambled in behind him, sweating bullets. "We were just—"

"I heard enough," Gennady said, his voice like ice over steel. His eyes locked on Tom, sharp enough to cut. "Mr. Johnson, correct?"

Tom's face went ghost-white. "Y-Yes, sir," he stammered.

"I don't recall insults and harassment being part of an educator's job description," Gennady said, stepping into the room. Each step felt like a warning shot. "Especially not toward a colleague. In a professional setting."

"I—I didn't—" Tom tried, but under that stare, his voice shrank to nothing.

"Didn't what?" Gennady stopped right in front of him, towering over Tom like a predator sizing up prey. "Didn't degrade this woman? Didn't try to put your hands on her?"

The room was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. The tension was suffocating.

"Mr. Willson," Gennady said, not breaking eye contact with Tom as he addressed the principal. "I expect this man gone. Now. I don't want my daughter near someone like him."

"Absolutely, sir!" Mr. Willson was practically tripping over himself. "Mr. Johnson, you're dismissed."

Tom slunk out, tail between his legs, and the room exhaled. But I barely noticed. Because Gennady was looking at me now.

Oh God.

His gaze hit me like a spotlight, intense and unreadable. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low, smooth, and somehow… familiar.