The MILFs Club: Special Delivery for my Aunt

Chapter 239: Chapter 239: Professional Distances

Alexander hadn’t noticed at first, but one of the instructors in the small group was actually Isabella. After the recent kidnapping attempt that he had personally thwarted, he had fully expected her to take a few days off to recover from the trauma, yet here she was. He stared at her, a look of genuine surprise crossing his features.

Isabella noticed his gaze and offered a polite, gentle smile. She turned slightly toward her colleagues.

"Go on ahead, gentlemen," said Isabella, keeping her voice calm and steady. "I will catch up with you in a moment."

The two male professors exchanged a brief, curious glance, wondering who this tall young student was to deserve her personal time. Alexander didn’t give them a chance to ask; he simply gave them a sharp, polite nod of his head before turning his full attention back to Isabella.

Once the other teachers walked a safe distance down the hall, Alexander stepped slightly closer. Despite the incredibly intimate and intense bond they shared, he had no intention of exposing anything in public, carefully maintaining a strict, professional distance as a regular student talking to his teacher.

"Professor Isabella, how are you?" asked Alexander, his tone formal but carrying a subtle undertone of concern. "I honestly thought you would take a few days of vacation after what happened with your daughter."

"I sent my daughter out of the country," said Isabella, her voice dropping into a tense whisper as she looked around the hallway. "The Sinclairs are way too active right now, and they could easily try something again. After what happened with Aria and Victoria, I’m just not sure. I don’t really feel safe anywhere right now."

"I haven’t been able to contact Aria yet," said Alexander, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. "I was actually planning to drop by and see her after leaving the campus today. I hope she’s doing alright."

Isabella’s eyes widened slightly, a faint trace of panic flickering across her face.

"I just spoke to her," said Isabella quickly, her fingers clenching around her folder. "They took her to get some medical exams done. You already know how paranoid Evelyn is when it comes to Aria."

"Yes, Mrs. Gable is quite protective," said Alexander, his tone flat.

Inside his mind, Alexander’s survival instincts went off like a siren. Isabella’s reaction was off, and her quick excuse felt fabricated. Something was deeply wrong, and he needed to extract the truth immediately.

"How about we head to your office?" asked Alexander, a smooth, unbothered smile returning to his face. "I haven’t visited you in days, and we could have some coffee. Besides, you still need to pay me for saving your daughter."

Isabella’s cheeks flushed bright red, her heart hammering against her ribs. Hearing his blunt words made her feel like a young girl in love all over again flustered by her boyfriend’s boldness. She gave a timid, quiet nod, turning around to lead the way down the corridor.

Alexander walked right beside her, keeping his pace steady until they reached her private office. The moment they stepped inside, Alexander reached back, closed the wood door, and turned the lock with a echoing click.

"How about we play a little game?" asked Alexander, turning around to face her.

"Yes, of course," said Isabella, her breath hitching as she leaned against the edge of her desk, trying to look composed. "What do you want to play?"

"It’s called questions and answers," said Alexander, his voice dropping into a cold, commanding register.

A terrible premonition shot straight through Isabella’s chest, but before she could even open her mouth to protest, Alexander reacted instantly. He grabbed her by the thighs, lifting her body effortlessly and slamming her down onto the flat surface of the desk, scattering papers everywhere.

With a single, brutal tug of his powerful hands, he ripped her elegant dress right down the middle, shredding the fabric into strips. Isabella gasped, but before she could struggle, Alexander pinned her wrists over her head, using a thick piece of the torn cloth to bind her hands together tightly. He dragged her lower body toward the edge, wrapping remaining pieces of the fabric around her ankles and tying them securely to the brass knobs of the desk drawers.

Within seconds, she was left immobilized, her hands bound above her head and her legs forced open, leaving her exposed to his cold gaze.

"Ready to play?" asked Alexander, leaning over her body as his dark eyes locked onto her trembling face.

Isabella’s breath came in ragged, terrified gasps as she stared up at him, her body bound and exposed on the cold wood of the desk.

"Alexander, please, what is the meaning of this?" asked Isabella, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I thought you wanted to be with me."

"We are going to be, but first I need to clear up a few things about your daughter," said Alexander, leaning down until his lips almost touched her ear, his voice a low, threatening vibration. "How exactly did she react after the rescue? What did she say to you?"

Isabella swallowed hard, her chest heaving against her torn dress.

"She... she was out of it," stammered Isabella, trying to look into his cold eyes. "She said she was drugged, so she didn’t remember anything about the actual kidnapping. But when she woke up at the safe house, she blamed me at first. She was hysterical, screaming that I was just trying to ruin her life and alienate her from her boyfriend."

"And then?" asked Alexander, his face expressionless.

"Then I had to explain everything to her," whispered Isabella, her voice shaking. "I told her about the Sinclair family, about the reality of the danger she was in, and about the massive shootout you had to launch just to get her back alive. That was the only way I could finally convince her to pack her bags and leave the country for her own safety."

Alexander stayed perfectly still, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed every twitch of her facial muscles.

He remembered the rescue perfectly. When he tore through that compound, her daughter hadn’t been unconscious or heavily drugged; she had been lucid enough to see the violence. He kept that detail to himself, silently realizing that the girl was likely fabricating the memory lapse to evade any responsibility or deeper questions about her own involvement with her boyfriend and the Sinclairs.

"Is that the absolute truth, Isabella?" asked Alexander, his hand slowly sliding up her inner thigh, his fingers pressing firmly into her soft flesh.

"Yes, I swear it!" cried Isabella, her hips twitching instinctively at his touch. "Why would I lie to you about my own daughter?"