I will Ruin You.Professor Winsley
Warning:**
This story contains mature themes including bullying, revenge, strong language, and explicit s****l content. It also explores trauma and power imbalance. Please read at your own discretion. 18+ only.
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“f**k!
No!
Not again! Not this s**t again!”
I screamed in frustration and yanked at my long dark hair. I slammed the brakes hard in front of Bells University. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Each notification made me angrier. This was 300 level, for f**k’s sake. Andrena and Christiana needed to stop with their useless drama.
I grabbed the phone and answered with a snarl. “What?”
“The new Literature professor… he’s so young, hot, and handsome,” Andrena whispered, her voice shaking. “But he’s cold. Strict. Like a hard nut no one can crack. I’m actually scared of him, Jojo.”
My blood boiled instantly. If my girls were scared, that meant this man would come for me next.
And I loved this challenge.
“Stand up, that’s Josephine’s seat!” I heard Christiana’s voice in the background.
A wicked smile spread across my lips. Some fool had chosen violence this morning.
I flung my car door open and stormed across the field to the lecture hall. The door was shut, so I kicked it open with force and marched straight to the girl sitting in my usual spot. Without caring about the professor at the podium, I grabbed her hair and yanked her out of the chair. She yelped as I shoved her away. The whole class pulled out their phones and started recording. I smiled evilly, enjoying the attention.
*Let them watch. I’m their Queen. They should kiss my feet.*
I pressed my boot down on the girl’s fingers, loving her whimper — until a deep, commanding voice cut through the room like thunder.
“Enough!”
I froze and turned toward the podium. Professor Winsley Dapson stood there, tall and furious. His dark eyes burned into me like I was nothing but a spoiled child.
“Get the f**k out of my class. Now.”
His voice was deep and strong. My heart skipped for a second.
I recovered fast and I removed my wristwatch and hurled it at him. He caught it in the air without even blinking.
“It’s a command. You have no right to speak while I’m speaking,” I shot back. I climbed onto my desk and pulled out my books defiantly. “Get lost if you can’t stand me. I’m not leaving.” I hiss….
“You have three seconds to leave this class,” he warned, his voice dangerously low, then he continue “or I will throw you out myself.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I hissed. “You don’t know who my father is. I am Josephine Maradona — the only child of Damien Sean Maradona, the biggest sponsor of this university. I will ruin you, and my father will trample on your tiny bones. I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Professor.”
He stepped down from the podium. “Three seconds are over, little Miss Birdie.”
Before I could react, he grabbed my arm firmly and pulled me off the desk. In one swift move, he marched me to the door and pushed me out.
“Go tell your fans that sick tale,” he muttered, then slammed the door shut behind me.
“I’m leaving with her!” Andrena and Christiana shouted. The door flew open again as they ran after me.
“Josephine! Josephine!” they called, but I kept running. Tears of humiliation burned my eyes.
“Phina, please wait!” Andrena cried. “I’m tired of running!”
I finally stopped, panting hard. Tears streamed down my face like a child who had lost her favorite toy.
“Josephine, you’re crying…” Christiana whispered and pulled me into a tight hug. I sobbed even harder.
“He humiliated me in front of everyone,” I choked out. “The whole internet will mock me. They’ll celebrate that I’ve been defeated. I swear… I will hurt him so badly.”
Andrena rubbed my back. “I told you he’s different. He doesn’t even seem to care about his job.”
“I don’t care,” I said through gritted teeth, wiping my tears. “I don’t give a f**k, if we wouldn’t be having another Literature lecturer after him. But this particular devil… I will ruin him until he begs with the same hands he used to throw me out.”
I chuckled darkly and walked toward my car. My ego was shattered, but my fire was burning brighter.
“Andrena, take a picture of me,” I ordered posing dramatically and pushing up my full breasts for emphasis.
*Click.*the camera sounded…
I snatched the phone and stared at the image with a wild smirk. Perfect body, perfect ass, perfect boobs, perfect face — a solid ten over ten.
For the past three years, strict men had lost their jobs and reputations because of me. I earned the name “Sweet Poison” for a reason.
No man on earth could resist this.
“I will ruin you, Professor Winsley Dapson,” I vowed quietly, my voice full of venom.
“I swear by my father’s hair… you will plead to be repaired.”
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