The Billionaire Professor's Captive

REPLACING MEREDITH

Earl

The evening breeze settled on my skin as I sat on a reclining chair in the balcony, watching the sun set with a glass of my finest whiskey in hand. My eyes took in the beauty of a dark grey sky sprinkled with whites and clothed in an orange hue. The distant honking, the chatter of passersby, and the crazy yelling of drivers all added to the allure of living in the middle of the city.

This was why I bought this house. For the view and to help work on my plan. Ah, yes. The big plan. The one I'd been working on since I turned twenty-five and found out who my family's killers were.

I took a long sip, the liquid burning the back of my throat and offering something other than the lingering pain of the past. I could still hear it. The screams, the sizzling of flesh and bodies thudding as they fell to the ground.

I had been waiting twelve years. Twelve years since I found out the truth. Since I learned the names of the men responsible for the m******e that wiped out my family. Since I promised myself I wouldn’t let them die easily.

A Keeler was responsible. And not just any Keeler. It was Reese.

Back then, he had been thirty, already solidifying his name as one of the most powerful drug ring leaders in the country. I was thirteen, nothing more than a boy thrown into a war I didn’t start.

I should have died that night, just like the rest of them, but I didn’t. And that was his mistake. I exhaled slowly, rolling the glass between my fingers. If I had wanted to, I could have had Reese dead within a year.

But death was too easy.

I wanted something slow. Something that would hollow him out and leave him bleeding for the rest of his miserable life. And what better way to do that than to take something from him? Something he could never replace.

I met Reese three years ago. By then, I had already built my empire, and I had already established myself as a force in the cybersecurity world. But he was older and more respected. And despite the age gap, he had taken a liking to me.

He called it admiration. Said I reminded him of himself when he was younger. Said I had the mind of a predator and the patience of a king. He had no idea how right he was. He called me his friend. A laughable title. But I wore it well.

Because while Reese saw me as a brilliant young professor and security consultant, I saw him as the man I was going to destroy. And now, the perfect opportunity had just landed in my lap.

His birthday was coming up. Another pathetic display of wealth and power. I would be there, as always, watching, waiting. But this time, something tugged at the back of my mind. A small, irritating detail I hadn’t yet confirmed.

Meredith Keeler. I saw her before she saw me.

The club had been dark, filled with bodies pressed too close, the air thick with alcohol and sweat. I never indulged in places like that, never wasted my time on meaningless distractions. Even though my colleagues had led me there.

And yet, I had stayed because I saw her. A girl in a black dress that clung to every curve, sitting at the bar like she didn’t belong. Like she didn’t know how to blend in. She had looked deliciously out of place.

And when she turned her head and met my gaze, I had wanted her. Not the way other men wanted. Not simple, mindless lust. I had wanted to see what she looked like underneath that dress. Had wanted to press her against the bar, feel her struggle against me just a little before she gave in.

I had imagined trailing my fingers up those thighs, pushing her legs apart just to see how far I could take it before she gasped my name.

Except—She hadn’t cared about any of that. She had turned to me, looked me right in the eye, and started talking about f*****g hacking.

Like she wasn’t a temptation wrapped in silk and sin. Like she wasn’t something I could have unraveled piece by piece. She had sat there, completely oblivious to what was going on in my head.

And I had let her talk. Because I had enjoyed watching her and that should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t because the next time I saw her, she was sitting in my classroom.

And when I saw the name on my roster—Meredith Keeler—I had gone still.

I had watched her for the rest of the class. Studied the way she froze when I called her name, the way she flushed when she didn’t know the answer, the way her fingers curled around her pen like she was holding onto something solid.

She didn’t know. She didn’t know who I was. Who her father was. She didn’t know she had just walked straight into the mouth of the lion. And that was what made it so goddamn interesting.

I had to be sure.

Had to confirm it was her. Had to find a way to get closer. So I recommended her for the CRI. I made sure she was placed directly under me, so that every time she looked up, every time she spoke, it would be me she had to answer to.

She thought it was an opportunity. She had no idea it was a trap. And tomorrow would be our first meeting. I needed to get my act together. Needed to make sure I was in control. Because if I wasn’t careful, I might do something reckless.

Like pull her into my office and finally find out what she tastes like.

By the time I dismissed my last class of the day, I was already in a restless mood. I knew why. The CRI meeting was in a few hours and Meredith Keeler would be there.

But before I could dwell on it, I heard the hurried click of heels against the floor, followed by a breathless voice.

"Professor Sherwood, wait!"

I exhaled slowly before turning. It was Ava Reynolds. She was a fresh student. Bright, polished, ambitious to the point of desperation. I had seen the type before, always pushing, always clawing their way toward the top, convinced they were owed something.

I had no interest in students like her. But she didn’t care.

"Let me be part of the CRI," she said, catching her breath. "I should have been selected. I know I’m better than half the people on that list, and I can prove it."

I adjusted my watch, watching her coolly. "You weren’t chosen."

She ignored that.

"I can be a better candidate than Meredith Keeler," she pressed, her voice sharper now. "I have more experience, more credentials—"

I tuned her out. Not because I didn’t care but because I already knew how I would handle this. She wanted to compete with Meredith? Fine. Besides, I wouldn't want to be tagged as practicing favoritism especially when it comes to a Keeler—pun intended.

I let her ramble for another few moments before I finally tilted my head, regarding her carefully. "You’re confident you’re better than her?"

"Yes."

"Then prove it."

Her eyes flashed. "So I’m in?"

"No."

Her mouth parted slightly, but I continued before she could argue.

"I’ll put you on trial," I said smoothly. "If you outperform Meredith, you’ll replace her."

I let that sink in.

Then, casually, I added, "Your first test starts tonight at seven at the meeting. Meet me at the Red hall."

Ava straightened, her entire body buzzing with anticipation. "I won’t disappoint you."

I gave her a slow, neutral nod before walking away. The moment my back was turned, my expression darkened.

I arrived at the hall early. The room was quiet, dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The long table in the center had been arranged for the session, laptops set up for the incoming students.

And yet, I wasn’t the first one here. She was.

Meredith sat near the middle of the table, her laptop open, fingers lazily tapping against the keyboard. The moment I stepped in, her head lifted.

Her eyes, green, sharp, way too easy to read, widened slightly before she straightened.

"You’re early," I murmured.

She blinked rapidly, then exhaled. "Yeah, I like punctuality."

I raised a brow, stepping further into the room. Most students didn’t bother arriving before me. But of course, Meredith wasn’t like most students.

I set my briefcase down, letting my gaze travel over her. Her outfit was different from what she had worn that night at the club.

A tight pink top that clung to her in a way that made it impossible to ignore the curve of her chest. A pair of baggy jeans that should have taken away the appeal but somehow did the opposite—effortless, casual, completely unintentional.

No makeup. No effort to enhance what was already dangerous enough. Still goddamn pretty. Still making my hands itch.

I sat down across from her, watching the way she twisted a strand of hair around her finger, the dark full curls falling beautifully around her face. It was an absentminded habit, something she probably didn’t even realize she was doing. But I noticed.

Just like I noticed the way she tensed under my gaze, shifting slightly as if she could feel the weight of it. Interesting. She wasn’t unaffected. Good.

I let the silence stretch just long enough to make her uncomfortable before I spoke again.

"Tell me, Meredith." She stiffened slightly at the way I said her name. I smirked.

"Who is your father?"

Her breath hitched. Her face scrunched up in what seemed to be confusion and hesitation. She opened her mouth, about to answer—

Then the door swung open and students began to pour in. The tension dissolved instantly.

I exhaled slowly, leaning back in my chair as Meredith’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if she had just escaped something.

Ava walked in last, her eyes locking onto Meredith before flicking toward me. Her smile was confident.

But I already knew how this would end.