The gleaming black Bugatti sat like a beacon of wealth in the university parking lot. Zayn Idris leaned back in the driver's seat, his designer sunglasses shielding his sharp gaze as he scrolled through emails on his phone. At twenty-five, he was already at the helm of his grandfather's empire, balancing billion-dollar deals with the mundane chaos of college life.

He glanced at the time on the dashboard, wondering why his lecturer, Ms. Sia—no, Anastasia, as he found himself thinking of her in quieter moments—was late. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the window.

Zayn looked up to see Anabel, her bright smile practically beaming through the glass. With a sigh, he rolled down the window slightly.

"What now, Anabel?" he asked, his tone polite but distant.

She tilted her head playfully. "You've been cooped up in this fancy car all morning. Why don't you come out and breathe some fresh air with the rest of us?"

"I'm waiting for someone," he said, keeping his reply curt. "If this isn't important—"

Before he could finish, Anabel opened the door, her boldness catching him off guard. She leaned in, her perfume filling the air, and without a moment's hesitation, kissed him.

Zayn froze, his eyes wide with shock. When she pulled back, a triumphant grin spread across her face.

"You should thank me," she teased. "That was a gift."

He stepped out of the car, towering over her. His voice was calm but laced with irritation. "Anabel, you can't just go around kissing people without asking. That's not right."

She shrugged, undeterred. "Well, next time I'll ask," she said cheekily. Then, changing the subject, she added, "You should come to the party tonight. Everyone will be there."

Zayn narrowed his eyes. "So you can kiss me again?"

Anabel laughed, taking his sarcasm as flirtation. "Maybe," she said with a wink.

Before he could respond, something to his left caught his attention. Zayn turned his head and saw her—Ms. Anastasia, his lecturer, walking toward the campus building with her usual calm poise. Her crisp blazer and pencil skirt hugged her figure perfectly, exuding both authority and elegance.

His breath caught, and a strange exhaustion settled over him, the kind only she seemed to evoke. Without a second thought, he pulled off his sunglasses, tucked them into his pocket, and straightened his posture.

Anabel noticed the shift instantly. "Where are you going?" she asked, confused by how quickly his attention had shifted.

Zayn didn't answer. His focus was already on catching up with Ms. Anastasia. He started walking away, his strides purposeful.

"Zayn, wait!" Anabel called, running after him. Her voice turned playful, drawing stares from passing students. "Zayn baby! Zayn baby!"

He ignored her completely, his eyes fixed ahead. As he neared Ms. Anastasia, he slowed his pace, adjusting his tie. There was something about her presence that always unsettled him, and yet, he found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

"Mr. Idris," she said when he finally caught up to her, her voice calm but firm. "You're not in class yet. Why am I not surprised?"

Zayn smirked faintly, falling into step beside her. "I was waiting for you," he said smoothly, though the faintest edge of nervousness crept into his tone.

She gave him a sidelong glance, her expression unreadable. "Is that so? Well, you'll have to excuse me. I'm in a hurry."

As she walked ahead, Zayn paused, watching her disappear into the building. Behind him, Anabel stopped, crossing her arms with a pout as she muttered under her breath.

For Zayn, Anabel's antics were already forgotten. His thoughts lingered on Ms. Anastasia and the way her presence managed to unsettle him in ways no one else could.