Kyra's POV
Alessia...no, Professor Russo pushed her chair back with an unnerving calm, her movements deliberate, her eyes locked on me like a predator sizing up its prey. My throat went dry as I watched her circle the desk, her posture rigid and her heels clicking ominously against the floor. She stopped right in front of me, her gaze hard, and I instinctively took a step back. Then another, until the hard edge of the desk dug into my lower back.
There was no more space to retreat. No more space to run. She was closing the gap between us, her tall figure looming over me, her sharp eyes cutting into me like ice. I couldn't help it the nervousness that now came with being around her was suddenly tenfold. Something about Alessia had unsettled me, but now? Now I was fucking terrified.
Her eyes flashed, and she stepped closer, her body practically crowding mine. There was no room to breathe. She was taller than me to begin with, but those heels made her tower over me even more, like some goddess of wrath descending from on high. Her voice, when she spoke, was colder than I'd ever heard it.
"Cooney-Cross, I don't want you to fucking lie to me," she snapped. "How old are you?"
I blinked, thrown off by her sudden aggression. Seriously? This was what she was worried about?
I couldn't help but smirk, trying to diffuse the situation, even though my insides were coiling with nerves. "I'll take that as a compliment. I look young, don't I?" I raised an eyebrow at her, and her cold stare didn't falter. Still, I kept going, pushing buttons because it was the only thing I knew how to do when shit got tense. "Didn't your mother ever teach you that asking a woman her age is indecent?"
Her expression darkened. Alessia's jaw clenched, and her voice came out low and sharp, brimming with anger. "How old are you?"
I swallowed, feeling a prickle of fear. "I'm 22," I muttered.
She let out a long, slow breath, muttering something under her breath I could barely catch. "At least I didn't sleep with a minor." The relief was evident, but it only made me laugh nervously.
"Wow, Alessia, you really know how to keep up a conversation," I shot back, trying to sound casual. But something had shifted in her, and it was making my skin crawl.
Her glare could've frozen fire. "Look," she said, her voice hard, "I'm not going to ask you more than one fucking time. You need to understand that if you tell anyone we slept together, it's going to lead to serious trouble. Do you get that? Even if it happened before the school year started, even if you're 22, it doesn't matter. No one can know. Does anyone know right now?"
The tension between us snapped tight, and I suddenly felt like I was walking a tightrope over a pit of fucking alligators. I shifted on my feet, rubbing the back of my neck. "Vic knows," I admitted, my voice quieter. "But relax, she won't tell anyone. She'll live with it, alright?"
Alessia's face twisted with anger, and I knew I'd said the wrong thing. Her voice was low and dangerous, the kind that made my skin prickle. "You're serious? You don't know how to fucking keep quiet? You don't tell your friends about who you sleep with! Promise me...promise me right now that I'll never be the topic of conversation between you and Vic or anyone else. This is not a fucking joke, Kyra. You have to promise me."
I stared at her, trying to stay calm. She was practically seething, her whole body tense like she was ready to explode. I raised my hands in mock surrender, trying to defuse the situation. "Don't be so nervous, Alessia. Everything's going to be fine."
Her voice cut through my attempt to calm her like a whip. "For you, it's Professor Russo or Mrs. Russo. Alessia doesn't exist for you."
Mrs. Russo? The words hit me like a slap to the face. I hadn't noticed before hadn't seen it in all the chaos but there, on her left hand, was a wedding ring.
