The Professor’s Secret Bride

The Warning

The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the sprawling Whitmore University campus, its golden light filtering through the canopies of towering oak trees and bathing the cobblestone pathways in an almost magical haze. Ivy hurried along, clutching her books tightly against her chest, her boots tapping a steady rhythm as she wove through clusters of students. She barely noticed the lively chatter around her; her mind was too consumed with the lingering echoes of Dr. Crowe’s lecture.

His words about power dynamics replayed in her mind like a haunting melody. The way he spoke—commanding, deliberate, and razor-sharp—had left an impression she couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just what he said, but how he said it, with a weight that seemed to carry unspoken truths. She had tried to tell herself it was just a lecture, like any other, but her racing thoughts told a different story.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely heard the voice calling her name.

“Ivy! Ivy Summers!”

She stopped abruptly and turned, squinting against the sunlight. Striding toward her with quick, determined steps was Claire Hastings, her roommate and self-appointed guide to surviving Whitmore. Claire’s tall, willowy frame was hard to miss, her confident gait enhanced by her signature red lipstick and an aura of effortless cool that seemed to make people step aside as she passed.

“There you are,” Claire said, linking her arm through Ivy’s without hesitation. Her long, manicured fingers tugged Ivy off the pathway and toward the shade of a nearby oak tree. “I was wondering where you disappeared to. Wait—don’t tell me. You stayed back to talk to him.”

“Talk to who?” Ivy asked, blinking in confusion.

Claire rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching with amusement. “Don’t play dumb. Him. Dr. Crowe. The god of doom and gloom. Did he finally incinerate someone with his death stare, or did he let you off with a warning?”

Ivy felt heat rise to her cheeks at the mention of his name. She ducked her head, feigning interest in adjusting the strap of her bag. “It wasn’t like that. I just… wanted to introduce myself.”

Claire gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest like she’d just heard the most shocking news of the year. “You voluntarily spoke to Sebastian Crowe? And lived to tell the tale? I’m impressed.”

Ivy scowled, though the corner of her mouth twitched in reluctant amusement. “He’s not that bad,” she said, defensive despite herself. “Sure, he’s… intense, but he’s also brilliant.”

“Careful, Summers,” Claire warned, leaning against the bench and studying her with a knowing smirk. “That man eats admiration for breakfast and spits out disappointment. Don’t go joining the long list of his victims.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ivy asked, her frown deepening.

Claire lowered her voice, her eyes darting around as though afraid someone might overhear them. “There’s a reason why half the campus worships him and the other half wants him fired. The man’s a walking enigma with enough skeletons in his closet to fill a graveyard. There are rumors, you know.”

Ivy’s curiosity flared despite herself. “Rumors? What kind of rumors?”

“Affairs, scandals, shady dealings—you name it,” Claire said with a shrug. “No one knows for sure, of course. He keeps his personal life locked up tighter than Fort Knox. But trust me, Summers, the closer you get to Sebastian Crowe, the higher your chances of getting burned.”

Ivy wanted to dismiss the warning, to scoff at the idea of basing her opinions on campus gossip. But Claire’s tone was serious, her usual playful demeanor replaced by something that looked almost like concern.

“Look, I get it,” Claire continued, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “The guy’s got this whole brooding genius thing going on. It’s practically a trap for overachievers like you. But he’s not worth the drama. Stay out of his orbit, okay?”

Ivy opened her mouth to protest, to argue that she wasn’t some naïve student drawn in by a mysterious professor. But before she could form a coherent response, Claire’s expression brightened, and she abruptly changed the subject.

“Anyway,” she said, her voice suddenly chipper, “I scored us invites to the Sigma party tonight. You’re coming, right?”

“I don’t know,” Ivy said hesitantly, shifting her weight. “I have a ton of reading to catch up on.”

Claire waved a dismissive hand, already pulling her phone from her pocket. “Boring. You’ve got to loosen up, Summers. This is Whitmore. Parties are practically a graduation requirement.”

Ivy hesitated, biting her lip. The idea of spending the evening surrounded by loud music, flashing lights, and people she barely knew was far from appealing. But she also didn’t want to seem like the awkward recluse Claire clearly thought she was.

“Eight o’clock,” Claire announced, not waiting for Ivy’s agreement. “Wear something cute. And no arguments!”

Before Ivy could protest, Claire gave her a playful wink and strode off, her long legs carrying her across the cobblestones with practiced ease. Ivy watched her go, shaking her head with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Left alone under the sprawling oak tree, Ivy leaned back against the bench and let out a long breath. The stillness of the campus seemed to magnify her thoughts, and she found herself once again thinking of Dr. Crowe. The rumors Claire had mentioned swirled in her mind, adding another layer of intrigue to the enigmatic professor. But Ivy wasn’t one to put much stock in idle gossip. People loved to exaggerate, especially when it came to someone as enigmatic as him.

Still, there was no denying that Dr. Crowe carried an air of mystery, one that pulled her in despite every warning telling her to stay away. It wasn’t just his commanding presence or the brilliance of his lectures; it was something deeper, something she couldn’t quite put into words.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Ivy stood and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She would go to the party, if only to appease Claire. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that her real challenge wasn’t navigating Whitmore’s social scene—it was figuring out what it was about Sebastian Crowe that made it impossible to stay indifferent.

For better or worse, she had a feeling she was already caught in his orbit.