Chapter 265

Stella's POV

The classroom was quiet except for the sound of students typing on their keyboards, everyone focused on completing their online quiz. I leaned against the podium, casually scanning the room to ensure no one was cheating. My gaze fell on Lisa in the front row, frantically tapping on her tablet with an increasingly desperate expression. When the timer emitted a gentle reminder sound, a wave of groans filled the classroom.

"Time's up," I announced, straightening up, "the system will automatically calculate your scores. You can see your results now."

Students began gathering their things, some excitedly comparing scores, others looking dejected. The classroom display lit up with a leaderboard, and I couldn't help but notice Lisa's name flashing in glaring red at the very bottom—a score that couldn't possibly be worse.

"Remember," I called out to the students heading toward the exit, "next week we'll discuss ethical considerations in textile manufacturing. Please complete the assigned readings in advance."

As the stream of students thinned, I caught Lisa's eye and gestured subtly for her to come over. She approached with that characteristic light step of hers, which contrasted sharply with her dismal academic performance.

"Lisa," I began softly, "did you see your score?"

She glanced at the display and shrugged with complete indifference. "Oh, that! Don't worry, Stella."

"Don't worry?" I raised an eyebrow. "Lisa, if you continue with scores like this, you'll fail the course. Even though we're friends, I can't make exceptions."

She laughed—that bright, carefree laugh that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances. "But I'm not a regular student! I'm just auditing, remember? The scores don't actually count for anything."

I sighed, shaking my head slightly. "Even for auditing students, there are certain expectations—"

"Professor Winston!" a male voice suddenly called from the back of the classroom, "Your husband is here!"

The remaining students turned toward the door, a wave of excited whispers rippling through the classroom. I felt a momentary embarrassment as all eyes moved back and forth between me and the doorway.

Damn it, Adam. Always with the perfect timing.

I turned to see Adam standing in the doorframe, his tall figure impossible to miss even in this large classroom. He wore a perfectly tailored dark gray suit, his expression characteristically cool, but the warmth in his eyes seemed to exist only for me.

Several female students were practically trembling with excitement, their reactions like teenagers discovering a celebrity idol. One even grabbed her friend's arm, whispering something that made them both giggle uncontrollably.

"May I come in?" Adam gestured toward the interior of the classroom.

"Of course you can!" a female student called out before I could answer.

"Mr. Lancaster is a major donor to our university," another added enthusiastically, "You're welcome anywhere on campus!"

A third student, bolder than the others, chimed in: "He's here as the professor's husband, not as a donor!"

I felt a mixture of amusement and exasperation as I addressed my students: "Is your coursework not engaging enough? Or are you spending too much time on social media?"

This only encouraged them further.

"The professor is getting flustered!" "She's blushing!" "Mr. Lancaster, come rescue us!"

I noticed Adam's almost imperceptible smile at the corner of his mouth, knowing he was enjoying this. He stepped into the classroom with that effortless elegance that commanded everyone's attention, casually resting one hand on my podium as he surveyed the room.

I glared at him, then turned to the students, pretending to be stern: "One more comment, and I'll deduct participation points from everyone."

This obviously insincere threat triggered another round of laughter as they finally began to leave the classroom. I turned to Adam with a sigh: "What are you doing here? I still have office hours this afternoon."

Despite my attempt to appear annoyed, I couldn't prevent the smile that showed in my eyes. Adam moved closer, casually picking up my bag from the desk. "I thought we could have lunch together. Unless you're too busy dealing with your admirers?"

Adam's POV

I watched as Lisa suddenly realized she was becoming a third wheel, her gaze moving back and forth between Stella and me, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"I should probably go," she announced awkwardly with a laugh, "I have... things... important things to do!"

She backed toward the door, eager to give us space, nearly tripping over a desk in the process. As she turned to leave, she collided directly with Robert's chest, the impact almost knocking her over.

Robert's reaction was impressive—his arm immediately encircled Lisa's waist, steadying her with practiced ease. The gesture was both protective and possessive, perhaps revealing more about their relationship than they themselves realized.

"Can't you watch where you're going?" Robert admonished, though his voice carried no real anger. "You're always in such a rush."

Lisa beamed up at him, completely unfazed by his rebuke. "I was trying to escape before becoming an awkward spectator!"

Robert's gaze traveled over Lisa's head to meet mine. Neither of us mentioned our previous conversation in the faculty lounge, but the tension remained like a silent challenge between us.

"We were just about to have lunch," he said, addressing everyone including Stella, "would you like to join us? There's a good place nearby."

Lisa's face immediately brightened. "Yes! That would be perfect! We can all go together!"

Stella looked up at me, her expression clearly seeking my opinion. This small gesture—not out of obligation but genuine consideration for my preferences—sent a warm current through my chest.

I took her hand, intertwining our fingers in a gesture that was both for connection and to send a message to Robert. "Of course, why not?"

The restaurant Robert recommended was a discreet private kitchen specializing in high-end fusion cuisine. The intimate space was decorated with exquisite taste—clearly upscale but not ostentatious.

Our meal progressed surprisingly pleasantly, with conversation dominated by Stella and Lisa's animated discussions. Throughout the meal, I observed Robert carefully, noting how even when Lisa was speaking, his attention would invariably return to Stella.

As the meal drew to a close, Robert turned casually to Stella: "Are you heading back to campus afterward? We could share a ride."

"Actually," I interjected before Stella could respond, my arm naturally finding its way around her waist, "we're going to our place nearby. Not on your route."

Robert's eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly, the only sign of his surprise. "I didn't know you had a residence near the university."

I didn't elaborate, taking a small malicious satisfaction in his obvious curiosity. The apartment was a recent acquisition—my reaction after learning Stella had been staying at the university guesthouse during teaching days. The thought of her spending nights in those cold, impersonal rooms bothered me more than I cared to admit.