Lessons in Desire

[20] L- The Illusion of Power

I've never felt more alive. The weight of jealousy, suspicion, and insecurity that had plagued me for weeks now seems trivial, a distant memory. Sophia and I—whatever it is that we have—I've reclaimed it. James, for all his easy smiles and casual charm, has no idea what's really going on. And that's how I want it. He might think he's the one she's helping, the one she trusts, but I know the truth. She's mine.

There's a thrill in it, knowing something James doesn't. Every time I pass him in the halls, I feel that secret buzzing under my skin. I catch him glancing at me with that friendly, unsuspecting smile, completely oblivious to the fact that I've won. I know what Sophia looks like when she's stripped of that perfectly professional façade, and I know the fire that ignites in her when she's alone with me. That's not something he'll ever have, no matter how close they seem during their little conversations.

It's almost funny how powerful I feel now, after all that time doubting myself. For once, I'm not the one in the dark. It's James who's blissfully ignorant, who has no idea that while he was smiling across the room at her, she was wrapped around me, gasping my name in a way she never will for him.

As I wrap up my lecture for the day, that sense of satisfaction lingers. Even my students notice a shift in my demeanor—I'm more animated, more engaged. The bell rings, dismissing the class, and I collect my papers with a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. For the first time in a long while, everything feels right.

Walking back to my office, I glance at my phone. A new email notification pings, but I don't recognize the sender. Strange. I open it without much thought.

"I know what you're hiding, DeLuca."

The subject line is enough to make my stomach drop. I frown, my fingers tightening around the phone as I scroll down.

The email is short, almost playful in its simplicity, but what follows sends a jolt of fear through me.

A picture.

The first thing I see is a pair of lacy black panties—torn at the seams. I recognize them instantly. Sophia's. The ones that got ripped in the heat of the moment in the library. There's more: a few buttons scattered across the library floor, where I had hastily thrown them aside after our faculty lunch. A flash of memory hits me—my shirt, the buttons Sophia had torn open in our desperation.

My pulse quickens. The air feels heavier, suffocating. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic. How could I have been so reckless? I'd been so consumed with lust, with need, that I hadn't thought about the consequences. But someone—someone had seen. Someone knows.

"I'd be more careful if I were you. Accidents happen when people aren't paying attention."

That was the last line of the email, a mocking threat that leaves my blood running cold. I stare at the picture again, the evidence laid bare in front of me. Whoever sent this isn't bluffing—they know exactly what I've been doing, and worse, they're watching.

My mind races. Who could it be? James? No—he's too naive, too trusting. But someone saw. Someone knows. And they're waiting to use it against me.

I sit down heavily in my chair, my earlier confidence draining away as the weight of the situation hits me. I was an idiot to think I could get away with this. My secret, Sophia, everything—it's all at risk now. One wrong move, and it's over. My career, my reputation, my life as I know it—it all hangs by a thread.

The power I felt only moments ago, that heady sense of victory, crumbles under the weight of this new reality. Someone has the upper hand now. And I'm trapped, left waiting for their next move.

I close the email and lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. The thrill I'd felt, the satisfaction of having Sophia—none of it matters now. Not when someone out there knows exactly what we've done.