The Unspoken Affection

At the academy's salon, Iris, clad in a worn-out plaid shirt and sweatpants, walked through the judging stares around her. "Oh my God! Did she actually come here wearing... what's that... a rag?" "That's embarrassing! Someone like her will never have friends." "Hey, honor student, I heard you don't have enough credits to graduate?" "Hey, Iris! Your mom will save a spot for you at the dock, right? Don't dress like this when you're selling drinks, no one will pay." Laughter erupted all around, as if everyone was mocking her. Iris pressed her lips tightly together. These humiliating words had surrounded her since middle school. But now, she had more important things to do. She just found out that the thesis, which she had been told was rejected, had never even been sent out! And the culprit, her advisor, was holding a wine glass, watching the students around him mock Iris, without a hint of guilt. "Professor Bernard." Iris raised her voice to question him, "Why did you withhold my thesis?" Bernard ignored Iris, but he raised his wine glass to those around him, signaling his temporary departure. The girls expressed their displeasure, seemingly irritated by Iris's interruption. Some pinched their noses as they left, as if Iris had an unpleasant odor, and two girls deliberately bumped into her with their shoulders. Iris's shoulder ached, but she acted as if nothing hadn't happened, staring intently at Bernard. The professor, appearing very relaxed, merely smiled and gave the angry girl a once-over, then set his wine glass down on a nearby low table and headed towards a side door. Iris had no choice but to follow him to an empty hallway. "Iris, I'm sorry, but your data is flawed." "You know every piece of data in that thesis is authentic!" Iris defended herself with a solid argument. Bernard placed a hand on her shoulder and lowered his voice. "Drop the thesis, Iris. Its content is… Well, someone doesn't want to see it get published. "" The thesis was a social survey on the psychological alienation of employees of OTG, a large multinational corporation. It was a topic that could indeed anger certain businessmen or politicians who couldn't handle the truth. A shiver ran through Iris. She had always known that the truly ruthless weren't the seemingly dangerous vagrants on the streets but the suit-clad individuals wielding power and wealth. Should she compromise? No way! Delaying graduation would disrupt her life plan and add a burden to the foster family. She absolutely wouldn't accept it! Bernard's hand had somehow slid to her waist. "Iris," his tone turned suggestive, " "About the credits, it's not a problem for me, you know... Iris's body couldn't help but tremble. His hint at something coercive and transactional made her utterly disgusted. But she couldn't outright refuse it, not now. She had to fish out more information in order to find a solution. "I understand what you mean, Professor. I just want to know who doesn't want to see it get published. " Bernard's gaze lingering suggestively on her lips before saying, "Think about your thesis topic. It's not hard to guess. Why would OTG's top brass let something like that get published?" "But they cooperated with my initial research. Why did they change their mind?" Iris was puzzled. "You'd be quite a beauty without those glasses." Bernard completely ignored the what Iris was saying, moving his hand lower. Iris stiffened instantly. Her mind went blank, the feeling of humiliation crashing through her body. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay calm. This old scoundrel controlled her future, giving him more power over her body than she had herself. It was unfair, but at this moment, no one could come and save her. "So, Professor, did they threaten you and intercept my thesis?" Iris tried to interrupt his actions, but to no avail. Bernard had already grabbed her hand, bringing it to his mouth. Iris stared intently at his open mouth. Calm down! Just get it over with! He's about to reveal everything! Forget about his filthy hand, Iris! You could always clean up with disinfectant later! "Ah!" Suddenly, something happened. Both Bernard's and her hand were grabbed, and Iris felt a sharp pain in her wrist. Her heartbeat quickened, and she looked aside in shock. A tall man with green eyes and brown hair, at least six feet three, had appeared out of nowhere. He pulled Bernard's hand away from Iris, a mocking smile playing on his lips. Apparently, he had overheard their conversation. "Ouch! Who the hell are you? Let go!" Bernard screamed in pain. The man twisted Bernard's hand, his focus on Iris as he sized her up, mocking, "How long were you planning to chat with him?" Should I know him? Iris quickly searched her memory. Objectively speaking... this man was extremely handsome. Even if she'd seen him just once, she wouldn't forget. "You!" Iris glared up at the man. He did look very familiar. Who was he? But Bernard recognized him first. "Mr. Ortega!" Bernard gasped. "Oh my god, Mr. Ortega, you came in person to deal with this matter? You probably haven't heard about it, but I've already handled it." Amid Bernard's sudden obsequiousness, Iris finally remembered. She should have recognized him since the very beginning. He looked exactly like the CEO of the OTG Group! That narcissistic and powerful business genius, whose photo was plastered like a logo over all OTG industries, would look just like this man if he were twenty years younger! Was her unpublished thesis really worth the personal attention of OTG's heir? Iris yanked her hand away. "Let go of me! What do you want?!" Charles Ortega's face darkened. Couldn't this stupid woman see he was helping her? Or did she not need his help at all? He'd overheard something about a thesis. Hmph? It sounded like a mutually beneficial deal. Apparently, she didn't have moral standards at all, just like her mother. Their commotion had already drawn the attention of other students. Charles frowned, giving Bernard a look. Bernard quickly dispersed the students and then made a hasty exit. Charles, using his height advantage, propped a hand against the wall, looking down at Iris with an extremely impatient tone. "Put your business aside. I don't have the time or patience to wait for you." God, did the Ortegas never teach manners? Iris felt completely bewildered. "Wait for me for what?" Charles' patience finally ran out. "Dinner! Damn it, why do you look like an ignorant fool? Your mother, my father, you, and me—one big happy family dinner!" Iris finally remembered. Her mother, Tessa, who rarely contacted her, had indeed called two weeks ago, inviting her to Tessa's wedding. How absurd! As if they were the close mother-daughter duo from Freaky Friday. Iris had refused instantly, and Tessa then suggested they at least have a meal together. Oh, no. Was her newlywed husband none other than the OTG tyrant!?