My Professor's Dark Obsession

The clock struck 9:01 AM. And my life was officially over. I knew it the moment the big clock above the university gate showed 9:01. My scholarship depended on attendance. My professors hated latecomers. And Professor Aryan Malhotra hated me already. I pushed open the heavy wooden door to Classroom 301, my bag hanging off my shoulder, hair a mess from running across the entire campus in this Mumbai heat. My white shirt was slightly sweaty, my shoes covered in dust. I looked like a disaster. Sixty pairs of eyes turned to me at once. The whole room went silent. You could hear the AC humming. But I only felt one pair of eyes. Professor Aryan Malhotra didn't even look up from his laptop. He was typing something, his face cold like stone. His black shirt was perfectly ironed, his sleeves rolled up just a little. Everyone said he was the most handsome man in the university, but no one dared to say it to his face. His voice was cold, calm, and it cut through the entire silent room like a knife. "Miss Sharma. You are 61 seconds late. For the third time this week." My cheeks burned with shame. I could feel everyone staring at me, some girls giggling. "Sorry, sir. The bus broke down and the traffic was-" "I do not pay you for excuses," he interrupted, finally looking up at me. And when he looked up, my breath stopped. His eyes were dark brown, deep, angry. "I pay attention to patterns. And your pattern, Miss Sharma, is disobedience. You think my class is a joke?" "No, sir, I-" "Every other student is here at 8:55 AM. You think you are special? Because you are a scholarship student?" The whole class gasped. He never spoke this much to any student. He was known for being silent and ruthless. He would just mark you absent and fail you. He never argued. He closed his laptop with a loud thud. "Detention. My office. 4 PM sharp. Today." My legs went cold. Detention? With him? I wanted to disappear into the floor. Aryan Malhotra was not just a professor. At 28, he was the youngest PhD from Harvard, a visiting billionaire guest lecturer who owned half the university trust. His family owned Malhotra Industries. Girls drooled over him. Boys feared him. He was untouchable, ruthless, and he had never looked at any girl twice. He didn't even talk to female students alone. Until me. I quickly went and sat on the last bench, my head down. My notebook was open but I couldn't write anything. The entire lecture, I could not focus. My notes were blank. Because every five minutes, I felt his eyes on me. It was a strange, hot feeling on my skin. Like someone was watching me too closely. He was teaching about business ethics, but his voice was everywhere in my head. When I finally gathered the courage to look up, he was staring. Directly. Unblinking. From the podium. Like he was memorizing my face. Like he was angry that I existed. I immediately looked down again. My heart was beating so fast. After class, my best friend Nisha grabbed my arm and pulled me to the corridor. "Aria, are you mad? No one goes to his private detention! Last year a girl went and she left crying! He made her stand for three hours!" "I don't have a choice, Nisha," I whispered, my hands shaking. "He will fail me. You know my scholarship... if I fail one subject, my mother..." Nisha sighed. "Just be careful, okay? Don't argue with him. He is not a normal professor. He is a billionaire monster." The whole day I couldn't eat. I couldn't think. I kept looking at the clock. 1 PM... 2 PM... 3 PM... At 3:59 PM, I stood outside his office on the top floor. This floor was only for trustees. It was silent, expensive, and cold. The door was half open. My heart was in my mouth. I knocked lightly. A deep voice came from inside. "Come in. And lock the door." Lock the door? Why? My hand was shaking as I pushed the door. His office was huge. It didn't look like a professor's office. It looked like a CEO's cabin. Dark wood, expensive books from floor to ceiling, a big glass window showing the whole city, and the smell of his cologne - strong, musky, expensive, intoxicating. It filled my nose. He was sitting on his black leather chair, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his strong, veined forearms. A gold watch shone on his wrist. He looked more like a mafia king than a professor. His laptop was open but he wasn't looking at it. He was looking at me. "You are on time today. Good," he said, his voice low. "Close the door properly. I said lock it." I locked it. Click. That sound made me more nervous. He stood up and walked towards me. Slowly. Each step made my heart beat louder. Thak... Thak... Thak... His shoes on the wooden floor. He was so tall. At least 6'2". I had to look up to see him. "You know why I called you here, Aria?" he asked. He called me Aria, not Miss Sharma. "Sir, because I was late-" "No." He stopped just an inch away from me. I could feel his breath. I could see the small stubble on his jaw. I could see a small mole near his neck. "Because for the last three weeks, you have been the only student who dares to not look at me in my class." I was stunned. What was he saying? "What?" I whispered. "You look down. At your book. At the floor. At the window. Every other girl in this room looks at me like they want me to notice them. They wear short skirts for me. They ask stupid questions to talk to me. You... you look at me like you want to run away. Why? Am I that bad, Aria?" I couldn't speak. No one had ever talked to me like this. He leaned closer, his hand reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers were warm and they brushed my skin. It was just a small touch but a shiver ran down my whole spine. My knees went weak. "From tomorrow, you will sit in the first row. Right in front of me. You will look at me when I teach. And you will come to my office every day at 4 PM." My eyes widened. "Every day? But sir, my detention is only for today-" "Did I say it was detention?" His eyes darkened and a small, dangerous smile came on his lips. That smile was more scary than his anger. "This is your punishment for making your professor... distracted. You distract me, Miss Sharma. And I don't like being distracted." He placed both his hands on the wall, caging me between his arms. I was trapped. His face was so close I could see his eyelashes. His cologne was all around me. I had never been so close to a man in my life. "Are you scared of me, Miss Sharma?" he whispered. I nodded, my voice gone. I was scared, but also something else I didn't understand. "You should be," he whispered, his lips almost touching my ear, his voice so low it made my whole body tremble. "Because now that I have noticed you... I don't think I can let you go. You are mine to correct, Miss Sharma. Mine to keep. Mine to teach a lesson every day." He stayed like that for a few seconds, then moved back and sat down on his chair as if nothing happened. As if he didn't just turn my world upside down. He opened his laptop again. "You can leave now. 9 AM tomorrow. Front row. Don't be late. Or the punishment will be worse than just standing in my office." I ran out of his office, my legs shaking, my face red, my heart pounding like it would explode. I didn't even unlock the door properly, I just pulled it and ran. In the corridor, I leaned against the wall, trying to breathe. I didn't know if I had just been punished. Or claimed. And the worst part was... a small part of me didn't want to run away anymore.