Author pov,

DAY ONE

Alisa adjusted the stack of physics textbooks on her mahogany desk, the late-afternoon sun spilling through the tall windows of her private office cabin on the vast estate.

At 23, she was the youngest tenured professor the university had ever appointed, known for her sharp mind and even sharper hunter-green eyes that could silence a lecture hall in seconds.

Her long chestnut hair fell in soft waves over the shoulders of her fitted white blouse, the fabric hugging her perfect hourglass figure. At 5’4”, she was petite, but the way she carried herself made her seem taller (commanding, untouchable).

The heavy oak door swung open without a knock.

He didn’t walk in; he prowled.

Kai leaned against the doorframe, all 6’3” of arrogant muscle and expensive trouble.

Eighteen, heir to one of the oldest fortunes in the country, and already bored with everything money could buy. Black hair tousled like he’d just rolled out of someone’s bed (probably had), sharp jaw clenched, dark eyes scanning the room like he was deciding whether to burn it down or buy it.

His uniform blazer hung open, tie loose, white shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the edge of a tattoo snaking up his collarbone.

“You’re late,” Alisa said without looking up, her voice calm, cold, and clipped.

Kai smirked, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. “And you’re tiny. Thought professors were supposed to be old and ugly. Disappointing.”

He strode forward and dropped into the leather chair opposite her desk like he owned it (technically, his family did own the estate, including this cabin).

Long legs spread wide, arms draped over the sides, he looked at her like she was something he hadn’t decided to break yet.

Alisa finally lifted her gaze. Those hunter eyes locked onto his, unflinching.

“Stand up,” she said.

Kai raised a brow, amused. “Excuse me?”

“I said stand up. You don’t sit until I tell you to.”

A beat of silence. Then he laughed (low, mocking, dangerous).

“You think you’re in charge here, little girl?”

“I am,” she replied, voice like steel wrapped in silk. “Your father hired me personally. One call from me and your trust fund gets frozen for a year. Try me.”

Kai’s smirk faltered for half a second. Then he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping.

“You’re cute when you threaten me.”

“And you’re failing three subjects,” she shot back, sliding a file across the desk. “Which means unless you want to repeat senior year while your friends go to college, you’ll shut up and do exactly what I say for the next six months.”

He didn’t touch the file. Just stared at her, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Six months, huh?”

His tongue dragged across his lower lip. “Gonna be fun breaking you.”

Alisa didn’t blink.

“You won’t.”

Kai stood slowly (deliberately), towering over the desk as he planted both hands on it and leaned in close.

Close enough that she could smell his cologne, something dark and expensive.

“I break everything I touch, Professor,” he murmured. “Especially pretty things that think they can control me.”

Alisa didn’t lean back. Didn’t flinch. Just looked up at him through thick lashes, voice barely above a whisper.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not yours to touch.”

His eyes flared (something hungry flashing behind the arrogance).

“We’ll see about that.”

He straightened, grabbed the file like it had personally offended him, and turned toward the door.

“Tomorrow, 7 a.m.,” she called after him. “Don’t be late again.”

Kai paused at the threshold, glancing back with a grin that promised chaos.

“Sweet dreams, professor.”

The door slammed.

She let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

This was going to be a very long six months.

DAY TWO

The grandfather clock in the corner struck seven exactly when the door flew open again, no knock, no warning.

Kai strolled in wearing black sweatpants low on his hips and a tight black compression shirt that left nothing to the imagination: every line of muscle, every ridge of his abs, the deep V disappearing beneath the waistband.

His hair was damp from a shower, a single droplet sliding down his throat. He carried no books, no bag. Just a takeaway coffee cup in one hand and that infuriating smirk.

“You’re on time,” Alisa said from behind her desk, not looking up from her laptop.

She was dressed sharper today: charcoal pencil skirt, silk emerald blouse tucked in, hair in a high ponytail that made her cheekbones look lethal. “Miracles do happen.”

Kai kicked the door shut, took a slow sip of his coffee, and eyed her like she was breakfast.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, voice rough from the morning. “Kept thinking about that smart little mouth of yours giving me orders.”

He dropped into the same leather chair as yesterday, legs spread wide, coffee resting on his thigh.

Alisa closed her laptop with a soft snap and finally met his gaze.

“Books,” she said simply.

“Don’t have any.”

“I can see that. Get up and go to the shelf behind you. Third row, Advanced Mechanics and Quantum Theory. Bring both.”

Kai didn’t move. Just tilted his head.

“Make me.”

Alisa leaned back in her chair, folding her arms under her chest (a movement that made his eyes drop for a split second before snapping back up).

“Fine,” she said coolly. “We’ll do it your way.”

She pressed a button on the sleek intercom.

“Security,” she said into it, calm as ice. “Mr. Kai is refusing to cooperate. Please escort him to his father’s office. He can explain why he wasted everyone’s time and money.”

Silence.

Kai’s jaw flexed. He stared at her for five long seconds, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. Then he laughed under his breath and stood.

“Evil little thing,” he muttered, turning to the bookshelf.

He grabbed the two heavy textbooks, walked back, and instead of sitting again, he rounded the desk and dropped them right in front of her with a loud thud.

Then he braced both hands on her desk and leaned down until his face was inches from hers.

“Happy now, Professor?”

Alisa didn’t lean away. She looked straight into his eyes.

“Ecstatic. Now sit.”

He held her gaze a moment longer, then pushed off the desk and sat.

Alisa opened the Quantum Theory book to a marked page.

“We’re starting with Schrödinger’s equation. You’re going to derive it from scratch. I want to see every step.”

Kai snorted. “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I joke?”

He glanced at her mouth, then back up. “Sometimes I really can’t tell.”

Alisa slid a fresh sheet of paper and a fountain pen toward him.

“Begin.”

For ten minutes, the only sound was the scratch of his pen and the occasional sip of coffee.

He worked surprisingly fast, brows drawn together, arrogance momentarily replaced by focus.

When he finished, he tossed the pen down and leaned back.

“Done. Check it, genius.”

Alisa took the paper, eyes scanning his work. Her expression didn’t change, but one brow lifted slightly.

“Not bad,” she said finally. “You left out the time-dependent phase factor, but the rest is… acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” He smirked. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

She wrote a correction in red ink, precise and sharp, then slid the paper back.

“Again. Properly this time.”

Kai stared at the red mark like it had personally insulted his bloodline.

“You’re enjoying this,” he said lowly.

“Immensely.”

He picked up the pen, but instead of writing, he started spinning it between his fingers, eyes locked on her.

“Why’d you take this job, Alisa?”

The use of her first name made her pause for half a second.

“Money,” she answered simply.

“Bullshit. You’re twenty-three and already tenured. You don’t need my family’s money.”

Alisa met his stare.

“Maybe I wanted to see if the rumors were true.”

“What rumors?”

“That Kai  Routhfield is untouchable. Unbreakable. That no one can make him do anything he doesn’t want to.”

He leaned forward slowly.

“And what do you think so far?”

She smiled (small, sharp, lethal).

“I think you’re a spoiled boy who’s never been told no by someone who could actually enforce it.”

Kai’s eyes darkened. He stood up again, walked around the desk, and stopped right beside her chair.

Towering. Close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him.

“Say that again,” he murmured.

Alisa turned in her chair to look up at him, unflinching.

“You heard me.”

For a moment,

neither moved.

The air between them felt charged, like the second before lightning.

Then Kai reached out, slow enough that she could have stopped him,

and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear with the back of his knuckles.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, Professor,” he said, voice low and rough.

Alisa didn’t pull away. She just looked at him with those hunter eyes.

“Good,” she whispered. “I don’t like easy.”

His breath hitched, just barely. His hand dropped.

“Tomorrow,” he said, stepping back. “Same time?”

“6:30,” she corrected. “You’re buying me coffee. Black, two sugars. And you’ll be early.”

Kai laughed once, short and dark, and headed for the door.

At the threshold he paused, glanced back.

“Alisa?”

“Yes?”

“You look fucking incredible hot in that skirt.”

The door closed behind him before she could reply.

Alisa let out a slow, steady breath, her pulse racing far more than she would ever admit.

Six months.

God help them both.