Jasmine
I scoffed.
Of course.
“A proposition?” I repeated coldly. “You’re a professor. If this gets out, you could lose your job too.”
His expression barely changed.
“True.”
He stood slowly from his chair, the movement alone shifting the air between us.
“But I can get another position elsewhere,” he said calmly. “I’m a professor, Miss Buston.”
He stopped a few feet away, his gaze dropping briefly to the scholarship badge attached to my bag.
“But you?” he continued quietly. “You’re a scholarship student from a poor background. Lose that, and then what happens?”
Every word landed precisely where it hurt most. My jaw tightened instantly, humiliation burning inside me because I knew he was right—he knew, and I hated him for it.
“What do you want?” I asked. “I’m guessing you want som
