I Adore You, Professor!.

BLAKINGSON'S UNIVERSITY!, Popularly known as Blakingson's , a school of prestige, a school that feels like a private estate that decided to take students, it's library smells like old paper, the lecture halls at blakingson's echo if you whisper. A Legacy school, Law, Literature, Finance. If your parents went here, you’re expected to, and if you didn’t, you’re there on scholarship. The English Literature department is brutal — only the serious ones survive. And NORA CARTER. A Cinderella, didn’t find her prince charming in a castle, instead, She found him at Blakingson’s. Nora is quiet, the girl in the back row—Dark long hair, brown eyes, thin lips, and a habit of watching instead of speaking, She came to university for literature, She stayed for Professor Rhys Blackwood. Rhys Blackwood is 35?, Dark hair, Ice-blue eyes, Thin, unreadable lips, A Blackwood heir who walked away from his family’s empire after his stepmother pushed him out, Now he teaches, he's cold, Brilliant, and Alone. Nora never flirts, never speaks out of turn, she just listens and watch, that long, lingering, “I see you” look from her seat. He’s seen a thousand students in ten years. But he's never found one as interesting as her before, and he tells himself he shouldn’t pick interesting in her. This is a story of forbidden tension, class divides, family betrayal, and the moment a look becomes too loud to ignore. _____________ PRESENTLY SAN FRANCISCO: 28/06/2025 BLACKWOOD ESTATE:9:00pm The Foyer rose like a cathedral built for one family, marble floors stretched underfoot, gleaming like polished ice, cold enough to cut through the soles of your shoes, above, a crystal chandelier caught the light and broke it into a hundred sharp pieces, scattering prisms across stone that had seen three generations come and go. The air was heavy, not stale, Weighted. Fresh flowers from a florist who came twice a week. Old money that had soaked into the walls for a century, and underneath, whispers of secrets past—fights behind closed doors, a name erased from portraits, a son who stopped coming home. The Staircase curved like a ribbon of black iron and dark wood, banister worn smooth by hands that never needed to work for a living. Gilded frames lined the ascent, Blackwoods in oil paint, uns Miling, judging, the women’s faces had been repainted out after she died, only the men remained, watching in silence. This wasn’t a house, It was a legacy, and it didn’t ask if you still wanted it. This is the house Rhys walks into for that forced dinner, Ice-cold, loud with history, and as they sat over the dining, cutleries clicking the plates, Mrs Blackwood, Cassie broke the deafening silence by clearing her throat, which caught everyone's attention except Rhys' who chose to ignore her unending schemes. “Rhys dear?, with that sweet angelic voice she normally uses when she's on pretence mode, she called out, desperate to get the attention of Rhys, but as usual, the cold and impenetrable Rhys only glanced up to meet her gaze with a raised brow. “Well I just wanted to ask about work and—and something else. Dear?, you're not getting any younger, about the girl I spoke to you about last time?. She questions desperately as if she were going to suffocate if he didn't give her a response any moment from now. But Rhys was smarter than that, Of course he knew better than anyone that she just wanted to plant the girl as a spy so she could keep feeding her updates about his every movement, but What amused him more, though, was how composed the man who was supposedly his father, Mr. Kincaid looked as he sat across from him. He couldn't believe that even after three years had passed since the fight between them, his father still wouldn't look at him or say a word to him. “Rhys dear?, seeing how quiet he went after what she said, she calls softly to grab his attention which made Rhys scoff softly before mouthing. Am not interested in relationships for now, I'll marry once am ready. He firmly said—dismissing the conversation, causing her to flare instantly as she tries to talk him out of his nonsense. “When you're ready?, When is that?, After you turn forty or fifty?. Listen Rhys, you're getting no younger, if you don't have anyone in your life at the moment then how about you give Brittany a chance. She proceeded, leaving Rhys utterly surprised. He has made it clear already that he doesn't want the Brittany girl so why was his sly of a Stepmother still pushing on with the matter?. I do not need a nanny or a CCTV camera in my home, if you're doing this because of the company, rest assured that am not interested, you can keep everything to yourselves. Already irritated, he spoke, but that only made Mrs Blackwood go crazy as she gasped— feigning hurt as if she knew nothing about what Rhys was talking about. But Rhys knew that if he pushed on with the whole conversation, it was gonna turn out bad and that was what he didn't want, although his father is upset with him but the real reason why he comes home whenever he receives a call from his Stepmother was because of his father. Even after everything, he just can't seem to hate his father, and without another word, he took the napkin in front of him then wiped the side of his lips, hands before getting up, and with an expressionless face,, he said . Thanks for dinner, I'll take my leave now. He spoke, his voice cold as usual and without waiting to hear her response, he saw himself out while his two siblings whom had been quiet since he arrived only watched him leave, unable to utter a single word. That was just how scared they were of him, and they had better be, after all, they're not his father's biological children, he only allowed their mother get between him and his father three years ago because he was still upset about the sudden death of his mother due an ailment. Which is why their mother desperately needs him away, coz she knows that he can return any moment and claim everything that rightfully belongs to him. But trying to pin a girl on him so she can be her spy is way low of her, does she really believe he can't agree to the marriage and snap the girl's throat after the wedding?. And no one will care if that happens, no one will question him, no one will know what happened, He might just say she fell off the stairs and that's it, but he's no monster, so it would be best if he rejects the marriage now than marry her only to kill her. To he continued.