Page 26 of Bound in Debt
“By looking for me?”
“If I didn’t, wouldn’t that look suspicious?” Victoria huffs and begins pacing the floor in front of me. She rakes her bloody hand through her thick hair and I scowl. “Are you always this much of a mess?”
I reach for her hand but she jerks away from me as if I’m my nephew. It instantly pisses me off, but I refuse to analyze why right now.
“I’ll have you know that I’m not an idiot. I didn’t get into Thronewood University because I have boobs.”
The moment she says that word my gaze immediately drops to her chest.
Not creepy at all, Dante.
“So you didn’t seduce the admissions committee…good to know.”
“You must think I’m a real moron, don’t you, Professor Moretti?” I raise my eyebrows and clamp my lips shut. She was just dangling from a tree. “Wow…you’re not getting teacher of the year.”
Who in hell would care about that? “Damn,” I sneer, “I’m not sure I should bother staying at Thronewood if that’s off the table.”
“You might as well,” she grinds out. “No one’s expecting you to teach anyways. The girls only show up because they think you’re hot and the dudes…” She shrugs. “Well, it’s an easy class.”
“You think my class is easy?” I ask, disdain dripping heavy from my voice. It won’t be, and she should know that. I put each and every one of them through the ringer with their chamber pieces this week. My class may fulfill an elective credit, but I take my music very seriously and expect my students to do the same.
“I don’t know, being called out in the middle of class on day one when I didn’t say a word wasn’t easy to deal with.”
I knew it wasn’t Victoria the moment the blonde girl behind her blanched. But I needed to set an example for the class. Switching targets mid-rant wouldn’t have served me.
“Then you should’ve said something.”
Her face scrunches up, and her tone tells me she thinks I’m the moron. “And rat someone out?” Victoria’s gaze tracks down the length of my body like she’s sizing me up, but she never returns her eyes to mine, never finishes her sassy comeback.
Instead, she lingers, soaking me in like her favorite perfume. My cock twitches at how fucking perfect a disaster she is.
There’s a small twig tangled up in her hair. Her jean shorts certainly don’t fit the dress code for Marissa’s party, I know that. She has black makeup smudged under her eyes, looking more suited for a secret mission than her own engagement party. Her lips are red, small indents showing that she’s chewed at them either out of nervousness or frustration.
I don’t know what has come over me or what I’m doing.
But Victoria Waldorf is the sexiest thing I’ve seen since arriving in the States.
And that bugs me.
I’m twice her age. I’ve seen more shit in my life than she has in action movies—which she probably doesn’t even watch. Victoria is the epitome of sass and rebellion with a splash of naivety.
That innocence only makes me want to keep her as far from Lombardi as possible. I don’t want to see her lose that, especially when it’s not her fault my family is a bunch of whack jobs without a care for anyone else’s existence. But this inconvenient desire to protect her will only complicate things for both of us.
“Did you want to snap a photo while you’re at it, Victoria, or are you?—”
“It’s Vee,” she cuts in, slicing her eyes back to mine as a blush stains her cheeks. “My mother calls me Victoria.”
“It’s a lovely name. Don’t let her take that from you.” I want to smack myself over the head the moment the soft words spill from my mouth. What the hell am I even thinking? She seems to be wondering the same, as her brows twist in confusion. Quickly, I change tacks. “Does your mother know about this engagement? Does she know that you apparently want nothing to do with it?”
“You think I’m just teasing Liam? Or that jumping out of windows is my idea of a fun time on a Saturday night?”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because she ordered me to come. Like calling a dog to heel. She knows Liam cheated on me, but she doesn’t care.” Her eyes drift to something over my shoulder and her next words are whispered, almost sad. “I’m nothing that she wants me to be. She wants to take away everything I value, everything that makes me…me.”
I can’t picture anyone wanting to change Victoria, but this glittery world of money and status has sharp edges.
“What does she want to take away?” I can’t help but ask.
