Billionaire's PA

Trying to figure her out

Prof. Fearon’s POV

Two hours.

That’s all the time left before my last class for the day. Two hours before I see her again.

Goddamn it. I sound like some love-struck teenager. In my six years of teaching, I have never—never—felt this way about a student.

I’ve seen other professors date students before. It’s not exactly frowned upon here, not in a college setting where we’re all adults. But to feel this way about a student in my own class? That’s where the line blurs into something I shouldn’t cross.

And yet, I can’t help it.

It all started the day she walked into my class. The very first time I saw her, it was as if an angel had descended from the heavens and landed gracefully before me. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. From that moment, I was bewitched—by her beauty, her charm, the way she carried herself.

Then she spoke.

Her voice—God, her voice—was pure magic. I swear, she could put Whitney Houston to shame. But then, just as she was introducing herself, something odd happened. She hesitated. It was like someone had hit pause on a video. Right when she was about to speak about her future—her dreams—she froze, her confidence wavering for just a split second.

That hesitation has haunted me ever since.

It’s been nearly three years now, and my feelings haven’t changed. If anything, they’ve only grown stronger. But here’s the problem: she’s nothing like the woman I should want.

She’s reckless, disruptive, vulgar at times. She constantly challenges authority, including mine, and I’ve lost count of how many times she’s disrupted my class. It’s as if she doesn’t take anything seriously. And yet… I find myself eager to see her every day.

It’s pathetic.

It’s wrong.

And yet, here I am, contemplating ways to keep her from failing my course. Because if she fails this class, chances are she’s failing others. And if she fails too many… she’ll be expelled.

And if she’s expelled?

I’ll never see her again.

No, Stephen. You cannot let that happen.

I need to figure out how she’s performing in her other classes. If I can help her improve her grades, I’ll have an excuse to keep her here. It’s not just about my feelings—no, I can justify this. She deserves a chance.

With that in mind, I decide to seek out one of her professors—Miss Farbs.

I sigh. This is going to be painful.

Miss Farbs has made it no secret that she’s interested in me. She’s beautiful—gorgeous, even. Curvy, intelligent, ambitious. The kind of woman I should be drawn to. And yet, I have turned her down every time she has asked me out.

Why?

Because going out with her would feel like cheating.

And that’s the worst part—Allison and I aren’t even together.

A Necessary Conversation

I steel myself and knock on Miss Farbs’ office door.

Knock. Knock.

A sultry voice calls from inside. “Come in, the door’s open.”

I push open the door to find her leaning against her desk, a playful smirk on her lips. “Ahh, Mr. Fearon, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to my office?”

I clear my throat. “Good day, Miss Farbs. I was hoping you had a minute.”

“For you, darling? I’d make the world stop.” She winks. “The table’s all yours. Want to use it for something… interesting?”

Dear God, help me.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” I say, ignoring her flirtation. “Do you have a student by the name of Allison Blake in your class?”

Her eyes light up instantly. “Ohhh, my little earth-bound angel! She’s the reason I keep teaching that monstrous class.” She sighs dramatically. “Well, apart from you, of course. But honestly, I adore Miss Blake. She’s an absolute gem. Is there a problem?”

I blink. “A… gem?”

Are we talking about the same person?

The Allison Blake in my classroom is nothing like an angel. She’s a menace.

“I just wanted to check on her performance in your class,” I say carefully.

She laughs. “Oh, she’s brilliant. Participates actively. She practically teaches the class herself.”

I almost choke. “Teaches?”

“She’s one of my top students,” Miss Farbs continues, oblivious to my disbelief. “Straight A’s. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.”

I stare at her, stunned.

This doesn’t make sense.

I’ve never heard anything about Allison being a top student. In fact, I assumed she was barely scraping by.

“Wait,” I say slowly. “She’s a… top student?”

“Of course!” Miss Farbs raises a brow. “Mr. Fearon, she’s one of our top scholars. She and Miss Smith both have enough credits to graduate early.”

I swallow hard.

This can’t be right.

I need to see this for myself.

The Truth

With a rushed excuse, I practically flee her office and make my way down the hall to the records room.

Mrs. Sam, the school’s long-time records keeper, greets me with a wide smile.

“Mr. Fearon! Long time no see. What brings you to this part of the world?”

I force a smile. “Hey, Mrs. Sam. It’s been a while. I need to check a student’s file.”

She gives me a knowing look. “Ohhh, so that’s what it takes for you to visit me.”

I chuckle weakly. “Come on, Auntie Sam. You know I’m busy.”

“Too busy for family dinner? Hmph.” She shakes her head but reaches for her files. “Alright, who are you looking for?”

I hesitate. “Allison Blake.”

She stops, looks up at me, and smiles. “Ah, our golden girl number two.”

Golden girl?

Miss Farbs was telling the truth.

This can’t be real.

Mrs. Sam pulls the file and hands it to me, chatting away about how wonderful Allison is. I barely hear her as I flip through the pages.

My hands tremble.

Every single page screams excellence. Straight A’s. Honor roll. Awards. Scholarships. Enough credits to graduate early.

This… this doesn’t make sense.

The girl in my classroom—the one who disrupts my lectures, the one who makes a mockery of my lessons—can’t be the same person.

And yet, staring back at me from the file is her photo.

It’s her.

The same defiant eyes. The same smirk. The same girl who, for the past three years, has made my life a living hell.

And yet…

She’s been hiding this from me all along.

Why?

Why pretend to be a failure when she’s actually a genius?

My heart pounds. My ears ring.

There’s only one way to find out the truth.

I need to confront her.

And I need to do it tonight.