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Chapter 15 - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Raman's POV

I leaned back against the desk, crossing my arms, letting the silence stretch just enough to make them squirm.

"Broke? No," I said, grinning. "Though I like the enthusiasm, Jackson. Shylock wasn't after your lunch money — he wanted justice."

That got a few chuckles. They always laughed more when I threw in a little sass. It wasn't hard for me to get their attention — I'd been told more than once I didn't "look like a teacher," whatever that meant. I figured it was the combination of decent hair, decent shirts, and the fact I didn't drone like I was auditioning for a sleep podcast.

Halfway through, Mia, one of the sharper students, leaned forward on her desk. "Mr. Frazier, were you like… popular in school?"

I smirked. "What makes you think I'm not still popular?"

The class laughed, and even I cracked up a little. Truth was, back in college I couldn't walk across campus without bumping into someone I'd dated, almost dated, or accidentally flirted with. It wasn't on purpose — I just… had a way of talking to people. Girls liked me. Still did, apparently, though I'd mellowed.

By the end of the period, I had them debating whether Claudius from Hamlet was a villain or just a guy making bad career choices. When the bell rang, a few lingered to ask questions, and one slipped me a coffee from the teacher's lounge — a perk of being the "fun" teacher.

As the next group started trickling in, I checked the clock. Three more periods to go. Then maybe I'd swing by to bug Alistair after work… I need to pressure him into telling me where he got the hickey from, there's no way I would believe any insect did that to him.

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Alistair's POV

I walked into the office and froze. Lumel was lounging in the CEO's chair, legs crossed like he owned the place.

"Good morning, sir," I forced a smile.

"Good morning," he smirked—that same irritating smirk I couldn't stand. The memory of what happened last time flashed in my head.

"I see you covered your neck today," he said.

Without thinking, I tugged my collar higher. Damn reflex. His smirk deepened.

"So, what's my schedule for today?" he asked casually.

I blinked, confused. "I don't—"

"The CEO is on vacation with his wife," he cut me off, standing with infuriating ease. "So I'm in charge for the meantime."

He walked toward me, every step making my chest tighten. My breath hitched when he lifted his hand. Instinctively, I shut my eyes, bracing myself—only… nothing happened.

Instead, his voice, smooth and mocking, brushed against me. "Go on. What are the meetings I'll be gracing with my presence today?"

My fingers fumbled with the file in my hand. God, I hated that I was reacting this way in front of him. And Lumel knew it—he was enjoying every second, flashing those stupid, gleaming teeth of his.

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Alistair's POV

The day went on more smoothly than I had expected. To be honest, I'd come in convinced Lumel would prove himself the spoiled brat I'd always assumed him to be—pampered, arrogant, and utterly clueless about real work. But as the hours passed, I found myself surprised.

From negotiations to handling official matters, he carried himself with a confidence I hadn't anticipated. He spoke with clarity, his arguments sharp and deliberate, and when the foreign clients arrived, he slipped effortlessly into their languages. Some I understood, others I didn't, but the fluency was undeniable.

I caught myself watching him more closely than I meant to. He wasn't just holding his own; he was commanding the room. And from the looks exchanged around the table, I wasn't the only one impressed.

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