Page 144 of Wicked Little Secret

The letter I’d found in Professor Adler’s closet pieced everything together.

I’d always known my mother was ruined by Castlebury.

But family secrets still hid the extent to which she had been ruined; she hadn’t simply had her reputation tarnished like I’d been led to believe.

She’d been murdered.

Her death was then covered up like many of the others.

Professor Adler was the only person who made sense.

He was Valentine, a bitter man who hated the community and acted out to make them suffer; he soughtmy motherout to make her suffer.

He was bitter and jealous and angry.

The same man he’d been when he’d taken out Mr. Wicker and then Samson. The same man who will probably take me out next…

The door near the bookcases sweeps open. In steps none other than Professor Adler. He’s as I remember him—his charcoal-gray sweater vest juxtaposes the white dress shirt he wears underneath, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the collar creased and neat. The watch on hiswrist glints under the room’s lighting, his large hand wrapped around the doorknob.

His glasses sit perched on his nose, the black frames and clear lenses offering a window to his soul. His eyes that are dark and intense as they fall on me and he snaps the door shut behind him.

My insides ripple in uncertainty. I’d be a liar if I said he doesn’t look good, his hair as rumpled as ever, with the signature lock still hanging over his brow.

But with that attraction comes an unmistakable and visceral disgust. He sickens me to my stomach. It must reflect on my face, because as he starts toward the glass, his brows crease out of curiosity.

“Miss Oliver, I see you’re awake,” he says. “How are your accommodations treating you?”

I scoff at him from through the glass. “Accommodations? Is that what you call this?”

“I took great care to ensure you were comfortable. The bed isn’t the absolute best, but if you’ll notice, I brought you a thermal blanket and pillow. I’ve ensured you had food should you become hungry.” He juts his chin at a point past my shoulder.

At the desk, where there’s a domed tray on top. I hadn’t even gone to look at what was inside. I was much more focused on finding an exit.

“Let me out of here, Theron.”

The corner of his mouth quirks slightly. “Theron? SonowI’m Theron. I can’t help but think of all the times you called me professor when I told you not to.”

“Let me out of here. This isn’t funny. This isn’t a game.”

“Oh, but to the contrary, Miss Oliver—Nyssa—isn’t that what you’ve been playing all along?” he asks in rebuttal. The quirk at his lips turns into a full grin. It shouldn’t makehim more handsome, yet it does. Enough to draw me in. “You’ve been making moves like this is some game board the entire time. I admit, I was charmed by it. Impressed by you. Until you turned those moves against me.”

I lift my chin in open defiance. “That’s where you’re confused,Professor. The moves were against you the entire time.”

“Ah, there she is. The spark of brilliance I expect out of you. But you’re right. You have been making moves against me, haven’t you?” he asks, scratching his stubbled jaw. “I was simply too… pussy whipped to notice.”

He chuckles at his own admission, the sound sexy and dangerous all at once.

My skin heats up, air thinning out inside my lungs. I watch him through the glass barrier like I’m fascinated by him. Really, I’m studying him, trying to figure out what’s to come.

He rubs his jaw and pins me with an amused look. “I spent so long watching you, Miss Oliver. Hours and hours. Not once did I catch on.”

“Sounds like I was doing my job.”

“But I admit, I did pick up on your need for validation. Your thirst for approval. You sought me out almost as much as I sought you out. In more subtle ways, sure, but hardly any different. You wanted me,” he says, leaning closer to the glass. So close, I can make out the follicles of hair on his jaw and see myself in the reflection of his eyes. He drops his voice as if we’re surrounded by others and he wants this kept between just the two of us. “You wanted me just as much as I wanted you. You wouldn’t have entertained me as long as you did otherwise.”

“I had a goal in mind. You were nothing more than a means to an end.”

He tuts his tongue and leans even closer until I’m sure he’s about to reach straight through the glass for me. “We both know, Miss Oliver, that’s a lie. I bet that delicious little cunt of yours is nice and wet thinking about us together. I bet it would love nothing more than to be wrapped around my cock right about now.”

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