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“You’ll have to go over to student services to get it fixed,” he says, right as Stella offers to cover my meal.

“That won’t be necessary.” My tone is low and lethal as I slam my tray down onto the counter. Turning, I stalk toward the exit, a righteous fire burning through me. If Sterling Abbot thinks he can break me so easily, he’s got another thing coming, and I plan to hand-deliver it.

“Emmy, where?—”

“Talk later!” I call over my shoulder without looking back. I’m a woman on a mission, and there’s not a thing on this earth that’s going to stop me from finding him and giving him a good, swift kick in the balls.

CHAPTER 17

STERLING

Office hours are a fucking joke.

Every single meeting thus far has been silver-spooned brats either offering to suck my cock for a higher grade or a good word with Ellison toward a referral letter.

Pathetic. The whole lot of them.

With only fifteen more minutes on the clock, I begin packing up. If anyone happens to drop by, I’ll wrangle up an acceptable excuse for my absence. Because I can’t sit here another second without losing my mind.

I half hoped for a certain little mouse to pay me a visit, but it seems she’s even more cowardly than I first imagined. She can’t even bring herself to confront me when I pretty much admitted to intentionally setting her up to fail.

She’s even more pathetic than the girls in here offering to fall to their knees. At least they’re willing to chase after what they want. Emmalyn though? She just hides.

It’s a shame, really. Then again, I’m not sure why I expected more from a woman of her caliber. Liars are inherently weak, and Princess Price all but built her throne on tall tales and falsehoods.

I check the time on my phone once more—ten minutes left. I cross the small office, raising my hand to flip off the lights and call it a day, when the door flies open with enough force that I have to jump back to keep from getting smacked in the face.

“What in the?—”

“You have some nerve,” Emmalyn fumes, as if summoned by thought alone.

Her eyes are molten and her cheeks tinged crimson as her unbridled rage fills the air around us, weighting it, making it hard to breathe.

I pull a carefully blank face, careful not to show her the physical effect she’s having on me. I cock my head to the side and pout. “Aw. You mad?”

“Fucking furious.” She shoves me back and enters the room fully, throwing the door shut behind her.

“Good,” I growl, stepping into her space. I have no qualms about using my height to intimidate her. By hook or by crook, she will break.

As predicted, she retreats, but the solid wood of the door halts her progress, leaving her trapped. “I hope it burns through you like a wildfire and razes every bit of happiness you have left.”

“Why are you like this?” Her plump lower lip wobbles, and some sick part of me delights in knowing she’s trying not to cry.

I wonder which tastes better? The salt of her tears or the sweetness of her lips?

“Why are you a liar?” I counter with a mirthless laugh.

“I’m not.” She shoves at my chest again, but I don’t budge. Not even an inch. Instead, I box her in closer, holding her captive in a cage made of my flesh and bone.

“You are.” I dip lower, bringing my gaze level with hers. “You are, and you know it.” This close, I can see the flecks of gold and honey that streak her irises. She’s captivating, utterly stunning. Too bad she’s also a duplicitous bitch.

Her breathing accelerates, though out of anger or my nearness, I can’t say.

“I’m. Not. A. Liar.” Her voice breaks on the end as a single tear falls, rolling down her cheek, over the corner of her mouth, and off her chin.

I unplant one hand from the wall behind her and drag my finger over the wet path before stroking my fingers over her silky dark hair.

Her breath shudders and my lips turn up in a devious grin. I affect her, just as she does me. I’m sure of it.