Chapter 9

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Nowadays

England

"Your natural hair color suits you much more," Selina smiles, touching a lock of my black hair with her fingers.

I can't help but agree with her. I've already forgotten what I truly look like. After the salon, my hair smells pleasantly of shampoo and styling product, and the playful curls bounce with each step. It gives me a freshness and self-assurance, which were devastated by the meeting with the "new professor" yesterday.

We enter the university gates, sipping caramel frappuccino from Starbucks. Behind us, the gravel crunches under Selina's car tires as her driver departs, leaving us within the familiar walls of the campus.

"We should get out into the city more often," I conclude, reflecting on the day.

The pleasant, relaxing procedures at the salon: a head massage after coloring, a four-handed manicure and pedicure, facial cleansing, and a clay mask. And then a shopping trip, lunch at a restaurant, and my favorite coffee for dessert.

A vivid reminder of my past luxurious life. I had completely forgotten what it was like.

"I told you'd like it!" Selina exclaims joyfully. "We'll go out every weekend! Shopping, coffee dates, and we definitely have to visit my place! I really want you to meet my family."

Her overwhelming joy nearly knocks me off my feet. Or rather, I almost fall onto the gravel path because of Selina's tight hug.

"Oh, gods," I chuckle, trying to maintain my balance, "we still have time for this."

Selina takes an offended step away from me. Here we go...

"Don't you want to meet my parents?" she pouts.

I sigh and put my arm around Selina's shoulders, pulling her close.

"I want to, I just asked you not to rush and fulfill all the plans in one weekend. Otherwise, we'll be wondering what to do next time."

My words ease the tension, and we reach our dorm building, cheerfully discussing Ralph Lauren's new collection. But our lifted spirits instantly disappear when we see Ethan on the steps of the main entrance. More precisely, Mr. Lawrence, as he now calls himself.

My heart sinks as his stern gaze sweeps over my hair. Yes, now they're not his favorite color anymore.

"And here they are," Ethan gets up from the steps and makes a loud clap with his palms. "Miss Howard, Miss Bailey, I hope you have a better excuse for skipping class than your sudden need for caffeine from Starbucks?"

Selina blushes deeply, squeezing my hand tightly with her sweaty one. I don't understand what she's afraid of. Only I should be concerned about reprimand because no one is paying for my education. I have a study grant, and there's a chance I'll lose it if my attendance and grades are poor.

My dad could easily pay for my education, but I don't want to depend on him for anything. The only thing is that he sends me pocket money. And I let him do this, since I have absolutely no time to work.

"We don't have to report to you, Mr. Lawrence," I reply to Ethan's sarcastic remark, meeting his intense gaze.

"Christine!" Selina pulls me back.

Ethan walks down a few steps, closing the distance between us. His arms are tense, his veins are pulsating, sparks are dancing in his eyes.

"Mr. Lawrence," Selina hastily steps forward, "please excuse us. I wasn't feeling well mentally this morning and convinced Christine to spend time with me. It won't happen again!"

"Miss Howard, I have no complaints against you. I've already contacted your parents, and they explained your absence."

What the hell is going on? Are we little schoolgirls?

Selina looks at Ethan perplexedly, at a loss for words. She's just as surprised by the turn of events as I am.

"Mr. Lawrence, but..." Selina tries to interject, but Ethan interrupts her immediately.

"Miss Howard, you're free to go to your room," he turns his gaze to me. "And you, Miss Bailey, come with me to my office. We need to discuss your behavior, so you don't lose your study grant."

I clench my fists, leaving bright red marks on my skin from my nails. He dug too deep and now knows my weak points. What was and still is. Damn genius.

"Selina," I gently turn her towards me, pulling back my fingers reaching for her cheek. "It's okay. Go to your room. I'll handle this."

She hesitantly looks back at Ethan. Doubt flickers in her eyes.

"Alright," she finally agrees and lowers her voice to a whisper, "come see me later. Please."

Five minutes later, I'm standing in front of a door with a sign "Professor Lawrence". I snort, not bothering to hide my emotions. The fear of Ethan fades away, remembering how deceitful and disgusting he is.

"How did you manage to forge your documents so cleverly?" I inquire, folding my arms across my chest.

"Who said I forged them?" Ethan slyly smiles, retrieving a metal flask from the drawer of his solid wood desk. "Want some?" he offers.

I shake my head. It's been a long time since I drank alcohol, and I'm not going to break my sobriety because of him. Not again...

"I see you're in a better mood today," he takes a sip, not even flinching a muscle in his face. "Well then, Christine, shall we have a heart-to-heart?"

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