Chapter 4 An Unexpected Confession

YARA’S POV

“Step back Mr. Taranis, or the next person handling our 'installment plan' will be the school board's disciplinary committee.” My fingers gripped the edge of the desk as I straightened up until I matched him as much as possible.

Rames didn't move away immediately. Instead, his mouth twisted into a slow smile. He tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning my face.

“You're very formal when the sun comes up, Ms. Jenkins,” Rames murmured, his deep voice carrying a smooth tone that felt entirely out of place. He finally shifted his weight, shifting back though his shadow still completely covered my workspace.

“Last night on that road, you didn't seem like the type of woman who hid behind a disciplinary committee. You looked like someone who preferred to handle things face-to-face.”

“Neither did you look like the type to hide behind blackmail. Last night was an accident,” I countered, keeping my voice level flat

“Today is a regular school day, and you are a student. The dynamics are entirely different, and I suggest you remember that before you open your mouth again.”

Rames let out a soft laugh, resting one hand on his hip while his other finger tapped against the polished wood of my desk. “Come on, Yara. You can’t look me in the eye and tell me that crash was just a random coincidence. A dark road, a brake failure, and your car just happens to slam directly into mine? That sounds like a personal connection destined to happen. Some people would call that fate.”

“Some people are fools who read too many bad romance novels,” I snapped, cutting him off before he could build any more momentum.

“So what would you say it was?”

“I call it gross negligence on your part and mechanical failure on mine. There is absolutely nothing romantic or destined about an accident, Mr. Taranis.”

He leaned in slightly, his dark eyebrows rising in amusement. “You're still calling me by your last name. We shared a pretty intense moment out there in the dark. I think we’re past the formal titles, don’t you?”

I could swear I had never met anyone as shameless and annoying as the person in front of me, not even Clarissa, my bunkmate at the orphanage.

“We didn't share anything and stop calling me by my first name,” I gritted, reaching for a yellow manila folder on the table.

“In fact, since you are so eager to discuss last night, let’s talk about the paperwork. I checked my email three times this morning and there was absolutely nothing from your family’s representatives.”

Rames blinked, his lazy smile faltering for a brief second. “My family’s representatives?”

“Your insurance company,” I clarified, tapping the empty page inside the folder. “You took down my name, my license plate, and my place of employment. You explicitly stated that your family’s legal team would handle the documentation. So, where is the formal invoice? Why haven’t I received the official paperwork regarding the vehicle assessment?”

He stared at me in disbelief, seemingly unable to understand why I was still demanding a bill of half a million dollars instead of begging for mercy.

“I told you my assistant was going to handle it. That means it’s taken care of, Yara. You don’t owe anything.”

“I owe exactly what the law requires,” I shouted, my temper finally snapping. “I told you last night that I do not accept charity, and I certainly will not let you use this accident as some sort of financial leverage to look down on me. I want the bank installments set up properly. If your insurance agents are too lazy to do their jobs because your family owns the city, then give me their phone number and I will call them myself.”

Rames's composure began to crack. His confident posture gave way to visible frustration, his jaw tightening as he realized neither his money nor his identity could bend me.

“You are unbelievable,” Rames muttered, his voice losing its smooth, flirting edge and turning into something much darker and more intense. He took a step closer. “Do you have any idea who my father is? If he finds out a teacher is harassing his son over an insurance claim, he could have your teaching license revoked.”

“Then let him try,” I threatened, stepping around the side of the desk so I was standing directly in front of him, refusing to let him use his height to intimidate me. “Your father doesn't run the curriculum in this room, Mr. Taranis. Inside these walls, you are just a problematic student who is currently crossing ethical boundaries by loitering in a teacher's private office space after hours. Your family’s name cannot save you from a formal harassment report if you keep pushing me.”

He watched me, his breathing growing faster as his composure slipped. His gaze remained fixed on my eyes, a strange amusement lingering in his expression.

“You think you’re so safe behind that desk,” Rames whispered, he slid his hands into the pocket of his jacket.

“I know I am safe because I have dignity, which is something your money clearly can’t buy,” I snapped, turning my back on him to grab my keys from the desk drawer, ready to end the meeting and force him out into the hallway.

“I like you” I froze, completely shocked at his choice of words, I turned to look at him.

“What?” I breathed.

“I like you.” He repeated.