Obsessed ang Teacher ko Sa’kin

Chapter 7

Elara's POV

The air inside the St. Jude Grand Ballroom was filtered, expensive, and suffocating. It smelled of Jo Malone candles, aged scotch, and the kind of power that doesn't need to raise its voice to be heard. I felt like a fraud in my midnight blue silk dress. Every time the fabric swished against my legs, it reminded me that I was wearing a debt I couldn't pay.

I stood at the foot of the VIP table, my hands clasped in front of me, acting as the "Student Representative." But I felt more like a sacrificial lamb.

Naramdaman ko ang bawat titig ng mga tao. These were the elite of Manila—the tycoons, the politicians, the vultures in designer suits. And at the center of it all was Professor Liyro Dave Ferrer. He sat at the head of the table, his posture perfect, his expression unreadable. He looked at me not as his student, but as a masterpiece he had recently acquired.

"Ms. Santos, water for Mr. Valerius, please," Liyro said, his voice smooth and dangerous.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Roberto Valerius—Julián's father—was sitting right there. He was a mountain of a man, with white hair and eyes that looked like they were carved from granite. He hadn't even looked at me yet. To him, I was just a server. I was the "distraction" that stole his son.

Dahan-dahan akong lumapit, my hands trembling as I poured the sparkling water into the crystal glass. Just as I finished, the heavy oak doors of the ballroom swung open.

The room went silent.

It was Julián.

Elara's POV

He didn't belong here. He was wearing his faded polo and jeans, his boots still dusty from the studio. He looked like a rebel storming a castle. His eyes searched the room until they landed on me, and then, they shifted to the man sitting in front of me. His father.

The tension was so thick it felt like it could be cut with a knife.

"Julián," Roberto Valerius spoke, his voice booming through the sudden silence. It wasn't the voice of a father; it was the voice of a judge.

"I told you never to show your face in my presence until you were ready to crawl back and apologize for your insanity."

"I'm not here for you, Dad," Julián said, his voice shaking with a mix of pride and pain. He walked toward the table, ignoring the security guards who were closing in. He stopped right beside me and took my hand.

"I'm here for Elara. I'm taking her home."

Liyro chuckled—a low, melodic sound that sent chills down my spine. He swirled the golden liquid in his glass, watching the drama unfold with a sick kind of fascination.

"Home, Julián?" Liyro asked, tilting his head. "To that shanty in Cubao? To the place where the roof leaks and the electricity is about to be cut off? Is that the 'palace' you think she deserves?"

"Shut up, Ferrer!" Julián hissed. "Huwag mong pakialaman ang buhay namin. You used your power to force her here tonight. You think because you have the money, you can play with people's lives?"

"I don't play, Julián. I audit," Liyro replied, his eyes turning cold. "And right now, your account is empty."

Elara's POV

I felt Julián's grip tighten on my hand. He was brave, so incredibly brave, but I could see the cracks in his armor. He was fighting a war with no weapons.

Suddenly, Roberto Valerius stood up. The sheer presence of the man made me want to shrink into the floor. He didn't look at his son. He looked at me.

"So, you are the girl," Roberto said, his gaze raking over my silk dress. "The orphan. The reason my son thinks a life of squalor is a fair trade for the Valerius name."

"I love him, Sir," I whispered, my voice small but firm.

"Love," Roberto spat the word as if it were poison. He reached into his coat and pulled out a checkbook. He wrote something quickly, the sound of the pen on paper the only noise in the room. He ripped the check out and slid it across the table toward me.

Nanlaki ang mga mata ko nang makita ko ang number. Five million pesos. It was a life-changing amount. It was enough to buy a house, finish my studies, and never have to worry about a "Final Notice" again.

"Leave my son," Roberto said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Take the money and disappear. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and build yourself a life. Just stay away from Julián. He has a legacy to fulfill, and you are nothing but a weight around his neck."

Naramdaman ko ang pait sa lalamunan ko. I looked at the check, then at Julián. He was looking at me, his eyes wide with fear. Takot siya... takot siya na baka piliin ko ang pera.

"Elara, no..." bulong niya.

I looked at Liyro. He was watching me intently, his chin resting on his hand. He wasn't surprised by the check. He probably expected it. He wanted to see if my "love" had a price tag. He wanted me to be ruined, one way or another.

"Is that all my love is worth to you, Mr. Valerius?" I asked, my voice getting louder. I took the check and, with trembling hands, I tore it into pieces. The white scraps fell onto the expensive carpet like snow. "Hindi mabibili ng pera niyo ang nararamdaman ko para sa anak niyo."

Liyro's POV

I felt a surge of something—not anger, but a dark, twisted admiration. She was magnificent. Standing there, defiant against a tycoon, protecting a man who could barely protect himself. She was a diamond in the rough, and I wanted her more than ever. But the game wasn't over.

"Spoken like a true romantic, Elara," I said, standing up and walking toward her. I stood on her other side, opposite Julián.

"But let's look at the facts. Your scholarship? It's under my department. Your apartment? The building was just bought by a subsidiary of LDF Innovations this morning."

I saw the color drain from her face.

"You can stay with him," I whispered, loud enough for only her to hear. "But you will be homeless by tomorrow. You will be expelled by Monday. And Julián? I will make sure no gallery in this country ever hangs his work again. I will erase him, Elara. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Elara asked, her voice a ghost of a sound.

"Unless you come to me," I replied. "Let him go back to his father. Let him have his inheritance. Let him be the tycoon he was born to be. And in exchange, I will take care of you. I will be your patron. Your protector. Your... everything."

Julián tried to swing at me, but my security team was faster. They pinned him down against the floor, his face pressed into the expensive carpet.

"Julián!" sigaw ni Elara, trying to reach him, but I caught her arm.

"Look at him, Elara," I said, forcing her to watch her boyfriend struggle on the floor. "That is the man you're sacrificing your future for. A boy playing at being a man. Look at me. I am the man who can give you the world. Make the choice. Now."

Elara's POV

I looked at Julián, crying on the floor, humiliated in front of his father and the elite of Manila. Then I looked at Liyro—cold, powerful, and utterly obsessed.

I looked at Roberto Valerius, who watched his son's humiliation with a satisfied smirk.

I realized then that I wasn't just an orphan anymore. I was a prisoner. And the only way to save the man I loved was to walk into the arms of the man I feared.

"Let him go," I whispered, the tears streaming down my face. "Let him go, and I'll do whatever you want."

Liyro smiled—a real, triumphant smile. "Let him go," he ordered his men.

Julián stood up, bruised and shaking. "Elara, no! Don't do this!"

"Umalis ka na, Julián," I said, not looking at him. If I looked at him, I would break. "Go back to your father. Take your inheritance. Be successful. Kalimutan mo na ako."

"Elara!" sigaw niya habang kinakaladkad siya palabas ng security.

Naiwan ako sa gitna ng ballroom, surrounded by the elite, with Liyro's hand possessively on my waist. I had saved Julián, but at what cost? I looked at Liyro, and for the first time, I didn't see a Professor. I didn't see a CEO. I saw the man who had just audited my soul and found it wanting.

"Welcome home, Elara," he whispered.

And as the music started to play again, I realized that the "Ice Professor" had finally won. He didn't just fail my paper; he failed my life. And now, I was his to rewrite.