Page 59 of Nidev and Lyric

Nidev:

Your classes are cancelled for today.

I need you to work with me. Come to my office.

Her stomach dropped and flipped. Work with him? Was this part of the lesson, or something else?

Since it wasn’t school, then she could change into something he might like.

She put her dishes in the sink and made the bed then dashed back to her apartment, hands shaking as she sifted through her closet. What would he want? What would make him look at her the way he always did, with that dark intensity that left her trembling?

She settled on something she hoped would strike the right balance between temptation and professionalism—a fitted, high-waisted black skirt that hugged her curves just right, a white blouse with buttons she left slightly undone, just enough to hint but not reveal. She paired it with black heels, sleek and modest but still sexy.

Her hair she pulled back into a low, smooth ponytail. Practical but alluring. The kind of look that said she was ready to serve him, in every possible way.

She realized all her tattoos were covered and slumped a little. Bummer. She really wanted to show them off.

A cloud of doubt crept up the back of her mind. Did he want them hidden? Is that why he chose those places?

She scrubbed the thought from her mind. It didn’t matter. He’d given the marks to her. He’d meant them. She was the only one that needed to see them.

****

The walk to Nidev’s office was a blur. She’d been in the Creole King administrative building before, but never on his summons. The receptionist didn’t even glance at her, too busy with her own tasks to care who walked past. Which was good.Because the idea of anyone knowing she was there for him… well, that both thrilled and terrified her.

She pushed open the heavy door to his office and stepped inside.

He was there, already working. Papers spread out on his desk, a laptop open, his gaze pinned to the screen.

Without looking up, he spoke. “How was your breakfast? Please sit.”

“It was amazing, thank you,” she said, matching his professional tone and hiding her giddy smile.

“Your job today is simple. You’ll accompany me in meetings. You will take notes. You will follow every instruction I give you without hesitation. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Nidev,” she said evenly, eager to show him she could do any job he asked her to.

He shut his laptop and stood, pinning her with his gaze. “Let’s go.”

****

The drive to the academy’s administration building was unnervingly silent. Nidev’s focus was locked on his phone, fingers flying over the screen as he typed message after message.

Lyric sat at the opposite end of the backseat, rigid, a provided notepad balanced on her knees, her pen already poised for whatever task he threw her way.

“Today’s training is about observation,” he said finally, eyes not leaving the phone. “You will sit. Listen. And not speak unless spoken to.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Nidev.”

No approval, no acknowledgement. Obedience was expected, not praised.

That was normal in a job. Which this was.

Maybe he was going to let her work for him every day if she proved herself capable. The idea of playing his secretary was as arousing as playing his student. God, she would technically play both if he was going to also be her teacher.

They reached the building faster than she was ready for, and Nidev hurried inside without waiting to see if she followed. She half ran to keep up, heels clicking against the polished floor as they approached the conference room.

Inside, she recognized Mrs. Mireille seated at the table, her presence striking against the modern simplicity of the room. Her dark, polished hair was swept back from high cheekbones, green eyes sharp and assessing as she rose to greet them.

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