For three years, my relationship with Flynn Stewart had always been shrouded in secrecy. He was the school's youngest and most promising professor, and I was his adoptive sister, as well as his student. Every day, I had to pretend to be a good student, listening to him lecture on the podium. However, every night, I had to endure his near-cruel demands, stripped of dignity.

"Livia," he whispered, his voice laced with mockery, “what do you think the principal would do if he found out? If he knew that his precious goddaughter spends every night in her brother’s bed, crying out in surrender?"

As he spoke, he bit down on my neck, his actions both possessive and punishing.

I closed my eyes tightly, tears silently sliding down my face. At that moment, I finally understood that what he gave me was never love.

——

"Flynn, I'm hungry," I said, wrapped in a blanket, looking at the man standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window with his back to me. The rain was falling outside, and the room was still filled with the aftermath of passion.

He didn't turn around, but simply said in a low voice, "What should you call me?"

I bit my lip and obediently called him "brother," which earned me a cold sneer from him. Turning around to the bed, he roughly grabbed my chin.

"You pretend so well in public, how come you can't even remember this little rule in bed?" As he spoke, his hand had already slipped into the blanket, wandering over my bare skin. I trembled, but forced myself not to dodge.

"Of course," he sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "You are your mother's daughter, after all—born to seduce men."

Hearing these words, I pushed him away abruptly. This was the first time I had resisted, and it would be the last.

In the next moment, he pinned me down on the bed, his grip on my wrists so tight it felt like he might crush them.

"What’s this?" he sneered, his voice low and dangerous. "Upset now? Livia, what right do you have to be upset?"

I stared into his bloodshot eyes, filled with a seething hatred, and in that moment, I finally understood. From the very first day we met, he had been tormenting me like this.

My adoptive father, the principal, took me in when I was twelve years old. At that time, I didn't understand why this nominal brother always looked at me with cold eyes. Until the year of the college entrance exam, in his office, he kissed me for the first time. That kiss was gentle, yet it was enough to pull me under completely.

"I'll give you anything you want, as long as you agree to be my woman." He said that. I naively thought that this was his way of confessing to me. But I didn't know that this was just the beginning of a carefully designed revenge.

However, I have already loved too deeply to even summon the strength to hate.

“Professor Stewart, the principal wants to see you,” the teaching assistant’s voice called from outside the door, shattering the suffocating silence.

Flynn released me, his gaze dropping to my disheveled state. A mocking smile played at the corners of his lips.

“Fix yourself up. Make sure you look presentable,” he said coldly before turning away. He left without sparing me a second glance.

I curled up on the bed, my eyes following his retreating figure. A hollow ache settled in my chest. And at that moment, I found myself asking. How much further must I fall before I finally awaken?

In this twisted relationship, I was nothing more than a tool for him to exact revenge on my father.

The ridiculous part? I naively believed that if I loved him enough, I could melt the ice encasing his heart.

Outside the window behind me, the rain poured harder and harder.

Yet my heart, much like the storm outside, grew colder with each passing moment.

My phone suddenly vibrated—it was a message from my best friend.

[I heard the eldest son of the Myers family has set his eye on you. Your father is considering this match.]

I stared at the screen, and for the first time, a new thought crossed my mind.

The rain continued, its fine threads tapping against the glass, mirroring the small, stinging ache in my heart.

I stood at the back door of the classroom, my eyes fixed on Flynn at the podium.

He was lecturing senior students, clad in a crisp white shirt that made his already cold features seem even more aloof.

“Professor Stewart topped the teaching evaluations again this month,” the assistant's voice reached my ears.

The head of the department beamed, “He's young and capable, and the principal’s son to boot—his future is limitless.”

Yes, he was always the best.

Even when it came to hurting someone, he managed to do it flawlessly.

The class bell rang. As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.

“Livia, come here for a moment.”

Lowering my head, I walked over cautiously, fearing that anyone might notice something unusual between us.

He pulled a test paper from his drawer.

“You got this question wrong. Rewrite it.”

His casual tone carried an undertone of danger.

It wasn’t until the classroom emptied that he took the revised paper from my hands.

With a red pen, he drew a sharp mark across it.

“Still wrong. Come to my office tonight—I’ll teach you personally.”

My lips trembled as I bit down to stop myself from speaking.

I knew exactly what awaited me.

Every “tutoring session” was nothing but a grueling test of endurance.

At eight p.m., I stood outside his office door right on time.

Seated behind his desk, he didn’t even bother to look up.

“Lock the door.” His voice was as cold as ice.

The moment I turned the lock, he pressed me against the wall.

His kiss was rough, almost violent.

“Watched me through an entire lecture—had your fill yet?”

He gripped my waist so tightly that it hurt, making me gasp.

“Not here… someone might…” I stuttered.

I struggled to push him away.

“Afraid of what?" He smirked. “Aren’t you the best at pretending?

“In front of your father, you’re the perfect daughter. In front of me, you're just a little slut…”

Before he could finish, a sudden, urgent knock echoed through the room.

“Flynn, are you there? Laica Smith is back from abroad. She’s looking for you.”

Flynn froze in place, his movements halted abruptly.

I saw a flicker of something indescribable in his eyes.

Laica Smith.

That name was all too familiar.

She was Flynn's first love, the woman he cherished most.

They had parted ways only because she left to pursue her doctorate overseas.

And I? I was merely his pastime over these three lonely years.

“He's not responding. I guess he’s not here,” the voice outside concluded before retreating.

Flynn released me and straightened his clothes, heading for the door.

This was the first time that he didn't finish his business with me before walking away.

“Stay here. Don’t move.” He left those words and walked out.

I slowly slid against the wall. I sat on the cold floor, staring at the direction he had disappeared. My chest ached bitterly.

So, when faced with true love, I wasn’t even worth the effort to humiliate?

My phone vibrated again—it was a message from my best friend.

[The Myers family heir said he’d like to take you to dinner tomorrow. He seems serious about you.]

Just as I was about to reply, another notification popped up.

It was a video from Flynn.

In the clip, he and Laica were dining together, chatting and laughing as though nothing else in the world existed.

The ten-second video was enough to tear my heart apart.

[Get some rest early tonight. Don’t wait up for me.]

I stared at his message and smiled bitterly.

At that moment, I made up my mind—it was time to end this farce.

“Miss Livia, a toast to you.”

I snapped out of my senses when I heard his words. The eldest son of the Myers family, Javier, raised his glass with a sincere smile in his eyes.

I returned the gesture with a faint smile, clinking my glass lightly against his.

It hadn’t been long since I left the principal’s office when the Myers family sent over their invitation.

I knew this was my father paving the way for me, but the real reason I agreed to meet Javier was because of a conversation I overheard that night.

That evening, Flynn had been drunk and was brought back to his office by his assistant.

I brought him sobering soup, only to stop dead in my tracks at the sound of voices inside.

“Flynn, did you get back together with Laica?”

“She asked to reconcile as soon as she returned, and of course, I agreed. I’ve waited long enough these past three years.”

“And what about your sister? Livia?”

My heart leapt to my throat, and I clenched the thermos so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

“What else? I’m tired of her. Besides, I’ve already achieved what I set out to do—annoying the old man was the whole point.”

The thermos slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter.

The noise startled the people inside.

I turned and fled, tears blurring my vision.

So this was the truth from the very beginning—I was nothing more than a pawn in his revenge against my father.

He hated his father for still loving my mother, and this was how he chose to hurt me.

“Miss Livia, are you alright?” Javier’s concerned voice pulled me back to reality.

I shook my head and forced a smile. “I’m fine, just a little tired.”

Barely had the words left my mouth when my phone vibrated again.

It was Flynn.

I glanced at the time—it was already ten o’clock. By now, his date with Laica should have ended.

[Where are you?]

Just two words, yet laced with a cold menace.

I ignored the message and continued listening to Javier talk about his experiences abroad.

One call after another came in, and I declined each one.

“I’m going to the restroom,” I said to Javier before getting up.

The moment I pushed open the restroom door, a strong hand yanked me inside.

Flynn’s face was dark as he pressed me against the wall. “Enjoying your date with the Myers family heir?”

The heavy scent of alcohol clung to him, mingled with a faint trace of perfume—Laica’s perfume.

“Professor Stewart, have you had too much to drink?

“You wouldn’t want to keep Miss Smith waiting.” I curled my lips into a mocking smile.

“Stop acting all high and mighty!” He grabbed my throat, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Eager to find someone new already?”

I shoved him away with all my strength. “And what right do you have to question me?

“We were never anything more than a fleeting affair.” As soon as the words left my mouth, a stinging slap landed on my cheek.

Pain flared, sharp and searing.

“Say that again?” His eyes burned with rage.

“I said, we were nothing but mutual convenience. You know it better than anyone. I was just your tool for revenge against your father.”

His expression shifted, darkening and twisting until he finally let out a cold laugh. “Since you’re so clear about it, I won’t bother explaining. But remember this, Livia—until I give my permission, don’t even think about marrying someone else.”

With that, he released me and stormed off, leaving me alone to slide down the wall, silent tears streaming down my face.