Chapter 67
[ 1,038 words ]
“She did,” Jason said, his eyes remaining fixed on the entrance. “That’s why I’m still sitting in this car.”
He hadn’t finished the sentence when a sudden commotion erupted outside. All three of them looked toward the windows. A wave of voices drifted across the parking lot—laughter, shouting, the frantic energy of a crowd. Students were gathering around the building in swelling numbers.
Finn stared, a slow grin spreading across his face. “And there it is.”
“What?” Jason asked.
“This is exactly what I was talking about.”
They watched as more students poured toward the entrance, many of them holding up phones, trying to push through the crowd just to catch a glimpse of the man inside.
Finn sighed. “Look at that. One day into the semester and the man already has half the campus behaving like they’re at a red-carpet premiere. And this is our final semester. I can’t believe this is the atmosphere we’re graduating into.”
Shawn looked at him. “You’re acting like you’re actually going to miss this place.”
“I’ll miss the freedom,” Finn clarified. “I will absolutely not miss the assignments.”
Jason barely heard them. His attention was anchored to the building. He wanted Iris out. He wanted to hear her voice and settle the tension that had been simmering between them for weeks. A strange, cold uneasiness settled in his chest, a territorial instinct he couldn’t quite suppress.
Suddenly, Finn leaned forward, his eyes glued to his phone. “Hold up.”
Jason snapped his attention back. “What now?”
Finn was staring at a social media feed. “Is that Iris?”
Jason’s entire body went still, his muscles locking. “Where?”
Finn turned the screen toward him. “On the Campus Pulse.”
Jason snatched the phone from his hand. There, in a candid photo uploaded seconds ago, was Iris. She was walking a few paces behind Alexander Grant. The picture was taken from a distance, but the curve of her shoulder and the way she carried herself were unmistakable. She was following him toward the corridor that led to Professor Whitmore’s private office.
Jason’s expression shifted from impatience to a dark, focused intensity. “What the hell?”
Shawn leaned closer. “What is it?”
Jason held the phone out, his voice low. “She’s following him.”
Shawn studied the photograph. “So? Maybe she has a question about the syllabus.”
“She’s going into his office, Shawn.”
Finn glanced at the caption. “Maybe the professor wanted to speak with her about her academic standing. She is one of the top students.”
Jason’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. “What could he possibly want with her?”
Shawn frowned. “We don’t know, Jason. But if Whitmore is involved, it’s likely academic.”
Jason’s eyes remained fixed on the image of Iris disappearing through the door, the heavy wood closing behind her. Something inside him tightened—a knot of possessiveness and suspicion that refused to be reasoned with.
He told himself to wait. He told himself she had promised to speak with him and that he should give her the courtesy of an explanation. But the minutes dragged into an hour. Then an hour bled into two. The crowd outside gradually began to dissipate as the excitement wore off. Students returned to their hostels; lecturers departed for the day. The campus grew quiet as the golden afternoon faded into a bruised purple evening.
But Iris still hadn’t emerged.
Jason sat behind the wheel, his gaze burning into the entrance. His patience hadn’t just worn thin; it had snapped.
Finally, he threw open the car door. “That’s it. I’m going inside.”
Finn looked up, startled. “Why? Just wait another ten minutes.”
“To find Iris,” Jason replied, his voice like flint.
Shawn immediately straightened, reaching out to stop him. “Jason, wait. She should be out by now, but that doesn’t mean you can just storm the department. You’ll cause a scene.”
“I’m not storming anywhere,” Jason said, stepping out and slamming the door with a force that echoed through the lot. “I’m going to find her.”
Finn followed him with his eyes. “With the security they’ve got posted because of the Grant circus, do you honestly think they’ll let you just stroll in?”
Jason paused and adjusted his jacket, a cold, confident smile touching his lips. “Yes. I’m a Montgomery, remember? Grant Enterprises isn’t the only family that keeps this university afloat. My father has been funding the research programs for a decade.” His eyes hardened. “And if they try to stop me, I’ll remind them exactly whose name is on the library wing.”
Shawn sighed, leaning back. “That’s precisely the attitude I was afraid of.”
Jason was already walking away, his stride purposeful and heavy. Shawn looked at Finn. “Let’s go.”
Finn groaned. “Why do we have to go with him?”
“Because I have a bad feeling about this,” Shawn said, opening his own door. “And if Jason is about to do something reckless, I’d rather be there to stop him.”
The three of them entered the building. As expected, security stepped in their path, but Jason didn’t even slow down. He didn’t shout; he didn’t argue. He simply spoke in a tone of absolute authority—a low, commanding vibration that made the guard hesitate, an instinctive reaction to a dominant presence. After a tense few minutes of maneuvering, they were allowed through.
Jason didn’t waste time. He knew exactly where Whitmore’s office was. His footsteps echoed like drumbeats through the quiet, sterile corridor, with Shawn and Finn trailing behind him in a hurried scramble.
Just as they reached the door, the handle turned. The door swung open, and Iris stepped out.
She looked surprised, her eyes widening as she saw him. “Jason?”
He stopped dead, staring at her. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. He simply looked, his brows furrowed, his eyes scanning her face and her clothes for any sign of what had happened inside.
“What are you doing here?” Iris asked, her gaze flickering from him to Shawn and Finn.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jason said. He stepped closer, invading her personal space, his voice dropping to a dangerous, hushed level. “And what the fuck have you been doing inside that office for hours?”
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