Page 57 of Damsel in Disguise

Her hazel eyes clash with mine as she folds her arms loosely, more to steady herself than challenge me. “Who are you… Alistair Hertley?”

My eyes widen ever so slightly. I can’t help but admit that I do like the way my name sounds in her forced British accent.

“Someone you shouldn’t have gotten involved with.”

Her shoulders tense with entire body going rigid

Ariella isn’t curious anymore but terrified. Even if slightly. I can sense the intoxicating smell of fear radiating from her petite body. Oh, how badly I missed it.

She’s afraid of the part of me she’s now beginning to get a glimpse of. Afraid that the man she admired from behind a screen and across lecture halls is layered with something darker than intellect and ambition—a smiling devil awaiting beneath this calm exterior

It’s the fear of finding out that her obsession has always lied to her.

“And I suggest you stop underestimating the scale of what you are stepping into.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re ready for.”

“Whatever,” she visibly rolls her eyes. “So this private division would shield me from whatever imaginary threat you’re trying to protect me from?” her tone sharpens, already on the verge of being angry.

“You won’t understand—”

“How am I supposed to understand if you only leave breadcrumbs like that?”

I note the flare of pride, the refusal to be positioned as vulnerable. Then she looks away with anger and embarrassment colliding.

“I don’t understand your Gen-Z language, but you’ll find out when the time is right.”

“Are you controlling me or manipulating me?”

“Neither. I just don’t want to get into a cold war with the CynoTech Group.” A partial truth.

She understands the implication immediately.

“It’s up to you if you want to continue independently. But you’re already being monitored. Which means you remain visible without protection.”

“What are you not telling me?”

“I just told you everything. I mean… It’s better to work under someone you know rather than someone unknown. And besides, if you continue without guidance, you’ll eventually encounter resistance you aren’t prepared for,” I say, checking my wrist watch, hinting at the end of this conversation.

“And with me, you won’t face the consequences alone. That much I can assure you. As your professor, I’d always want what’s good for my student.”

If it weren’t for me, she’d be nothing more than another disposable body to work on for a new Synthète by now.

Her reaction is conflicted—she believes me more than she wants to.

Ariella stands up too, and takes a few steps back, reestablishing distance. “I think I need some time to think.”

Already saw that coming.

“You sure you can go home in your current physical condition?” I offer like an irony.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks,” she rushes the words out and calmly strides toward the doors, fighting hard not to run off.

“I expect an answer by next class,” I say just as her fingers brush against the handle.

She looks over her shoulder. “I ‘m not agreeing to anything until I understand what you believe I need shielding from.”