Blackwood

Chapter 2-His Class

The first day of classes at Blackwood University felt like walking into a lion’s den.

Everyone knew everyone. Everyone had money, last names, and bodyguards waiting in black cars.

And me? I had a scholarship and a fake name.

I checked my schedule again. Economics 101. Professor Hart. 8am.

Room 304.

I was 5 minutes late because I got lost in the glass hallways. When I pushed the door open, 40 pairs of eyes turned to me.

And at the front of the room, leaning against the professor’s desk, was Damien Blackwood.

Of course.

He wasn’t teaching. He was a student. But he looked like he owned the room. White shirt, sleeves rolled up, dark watch on his wrist. And that same gray stare from last night.

“Ah, Miss…?” Professor Hart looked at me.

“Castro. Selena Castro.” I kept my voice steady.

Damien’s lips twitched. Like he enjoyed hearing me lie.

“Sit,” Professor Hart pointed to the only empty seat. Right next to Damien.

Of course it was next to him.

I walked down the aisle with my head high. Don’t shake. Don’t look scared. I slid into the seat.

His cologne hit me immediately. Cedar. Expensive. Dangerous.

“Morning, Selena Castro,” he said softly, without looking at me. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I didn’t know this was your class.”

“I didn’t know you were smart enough for Economics,” he shot back.

I turned to glare at him. “I’m on a full scholarship.”

“I know.” Now he looked at me. “That’s what makes this interesting.”

Professor Hart started the lecture. Something about markets and power. I tried to focus. I really did.

But I could feel Damien watching me.

Every time I wrote a note, I felt his eyes.

Every time I shifted in my seat, I felt him.

Ten minutes in, a folded piece of paper landed on my notebook.

I opened it under the desk.

His handwriting. Messy. Sharp.

> *You look nervous. Are you hiding something? -D*

My hands shook. I crumpled it and threw it away.

Two minutes later, another note.

> *Don’t ignore me. It makes me curious. -D*

I didn’t answer.

Third note.

> *Fine. We’ll do this the hard way. -D*

The hard way?

Before I could think, Professor Hart said, “Pop quiz.”

Everyone groaned. I sighed in relief. Quizzes I could do.

But then Professor Hart added, “Partners. Pick one.”

Everyone paired up instantly. Except me.

Because Damien was already holding out his hand to me.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Selena.”

I hesitated. “I’d rather work alone.”

“Tough,” he said, and his fingers closed around my wrist. Warm. Firm. “You don’t get a choice at Blackwood.”

He pulled me closer so we could share one paper. Our shoulders touched. My heart was racing for the wrong reasons.

The quiz was easy. Too easy. But I couldn’t concentrate with him this close.

Halfway through, he leaned in. His breath on my ear.

“You didn’t answer my notes,” he whispered.

“Because they were stupid.”

He laughed quietly. “Maybe. But you read them.”

I didn’t answer.

When we turned in the paper, he signed both our names. `Damien Blackwood & Selena Castro.`

Like we were a thing.

After class, I tried to leave fast. But he caught up to me in the hallway.

“Walk with me,” he said.

“No.”

“Walk with me,” he repeated, and this time it wasn’t a request.

I stopped. “What do you want from me?”

His eyes darkened. “The truth.”

“I told you my name.”

“Not that name.” He stepped closer. “The real one.”

My blood froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” He smiled, but it was cold. “Here’s the deal, Selena. I’m going to be watching you. Every class. Every hallway. Every move.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because people who lie this well are either dangerous…” By Preye Rose

The first day of classes at Blackwood University felt like walking into a lion’s den.

Everyone knew everyone. Everyone had money, last names, and bodyguards waiting in black cars.

And me? I had a scholarship and a fake name.

I checked my schedule again. Economics 101. Professor Hart. 8am.

Room 304.

I was 5 minutes late because I got lost in the glass hallways. When I pushed the door open, 40 pairs of eyes turned to me.

And at the front of the room, leaning against the professor’s desk, was Damien Blackwood.

Of course.

He wasn’t teaching. He was a student. But he looked like he owned the room. White shirt, sleeves rolled up, dark watch on his wrist. And that same gray stare from last night.

“Ah, Miss…?” Professor Hart looked at me.

“Castro. Selena Castro.” I kept my voice steady.

Damien’s lips twitched. Like he enjoyed hearing me lie.

“Sit,” Professor Hart pointed to the only empty seat. Right next to Damien.

Of course it was next to him.

I walked down the aisle with my head high. Don’t shake. Don’t look scared. I slid into the seat.

His cologne hit me immediately. Cedar. Expensive. Dangerous.

“Morning, Selena Castro,” he said softly, without looking at me. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I didn’t know this was your class.”

“I didn’t know you were smart enough for Economics,” he shot back.

I turned to glare at him. “I’m on a full scholarship.”

“I know.” Now he looked at me. “That’s what makes this interesting.”

Professor Hart started the lecture. Something about markets and power. I tried to focus. I really did.

But I could feel Damien watching me.

Every time I wrote a note, I felt his eyes.

Every time I shifted in my seat, I felt him.

Ten minutes in, a folded piece of paper landed on my notebook.

I opened it under the desk.

His handwriting. Messy. Sharp.

> *You look nervous. Are you hiding something? -D*

My hands shook. I crumpled it and threw it away.

Two minutes later, another note.

> *Don’t ignore me. It makes me curious. -D*

I didn’t answer.

Third note.

> *Fine. We’ll do this the hard way. -D*

The hard way?

Before I could think, Professor Hart said, “Pop quiz.”

Everyone groaned. I sighed in relief. Quizzes I could do.

But then Professor Hart added, “Partners. Pick one.”

Everyone paired up instantly. Except me.

Because Damien was already holding out his hand to me.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Selena.”

I hesitated. “I’d rather work alone.”

“Tough,” he said, and his fingers closed around my wrist. Warm. Firm. “You don’t get a choice at Blackwood.”

He pulled me closer so we could share one paper. Our shoulders touched. My heart was racing for the wrong reasons.

The quiz was easy. Too easy. But I couldn’t concentrate with him this close.

Halfway through, he leaned in. His breath on my ear.

“You didn’t answer my notes,” he whispered.

“Because they were stupid.”

He laughed quietly. “Maybe. But you read them.”

I didn’t answer.

When we turned in the paper, he signed both our names. `Damien Blackwood & Selena Castro.`

Like we were a thing.

After class, I tried to leave fast. But he caught up to me in the hallway.

“Walk with me,” he said.

“No.”

“Walk with me,” he repeated, and this time it wasn’t a request.

I stopped. “What do you want from me?”

His eyes darkened. “The truth.”

“I told you my name.”

“Not that name.” He stepped closer. “The real one.”

My blood froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” He smiled, but it was cold. “Here’s the deal, Selena. I’m going to be watching you. Every class. Every hallway. Every move.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because people who lie this well are either dangerous…” He paused. “Or they’re worth keeping.”

He walked away before I could answer, leaving me shaking in the middle of Blackwood’s hallway.

I came here to be invisible.

But Damien Blackwood just made me his assignment.

And I had a feeling he wouldn’t stop until he solved me.