Chapter Four.

The door creaked open, and an old man with chocolate-brown hair starting from the middle of his scalp shuffled into Oliver's office.

Oliver's office was sleek and modern with a large, dark wooden desk dominating the room. A black leather executive chair sat behind the desk, facing a large glass window. 

The back wall featured built-in wooden shelves with a combination of books and decorative items like artificial flower pots. The room had a muted color palette, with black, dark brown, and metallic accents.

His cane tapped against the hardwood floor with each slow step, his saggy skin and deep wrinkles making him appear ten times older than his years. His presence alone spoke of a lifetime of hardship—and Oliver had been a considerable part of that struggle.

Oliver glanced up from his desk, eyes narrowing. "You had the strength to make your way here but couldn't show up to a university lecture that takes place once a week?"

Dylan Lilac, the old man, chuckled softly. "Good morning to you too, Ollie." He lowered himself into the chair opposite Oliver with a sigh, clearly relieved to be off his feet.

Oliver scowled but reached for the coffee pot, pouring a cup and pushing it toward Lilac. "What are you doing here?"

"To check up on you, of course," Lilac replied, taking the cup in his withered hands.

"After throwing me to the wolves? Some would call that medicine after death." Oliver's tone was sharp, but there was a flicker of amusement beneath the surface.

Lilac sipped his coffee, unfazed. "Ah! Yet you still breathe."

Oliver leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

"So how are things with your security system breach? Have you tracked the person behind it?" Oliver stared at him not surprised that he knew but it slightly made him subconscious.

"When will you stop putting your nose in my matters? How did you find out? It seems like you are too free, nowadays."

Lilac placed the cup down on the table and raised an eyebrow. "You? Able to keep a breach hidden from me? The day that happens, Ollie, I'll hand you my cane and retire."

Oliver's eyes hardened. "I would be able to trace the person behind it if they stayed long enough to leave any traces," he muttered. "Whoever they are, they keep knocking at the doors and vanish just as I get close enough to open them."

Lilac's gaze sharpened with interest. "Maybe you can find a new student in that class of yours to help build a better system."

"Better than the one I designed?" Oliver snapped, his pride clear.

Lilac shook his head with a small laugh. "Your arrogance is foul to the ears."

"Confidence, not arrogance," Oliver corrected, his tone tight. "I know my strengths and my weaknesses. And I know that no one can beat my system, except maybe your Circular Pyramid."

Lilac smirked. "Ah, yes. But it takes two to tango, doesn't it, Ollie? Maybe you've finally met your match."

"I doubt it," Oliver said coolly. "Perhaps your obsession with twos is what led you to design a system that requires two people to operate. You refused when I asked for your help."

Lilac's smile faded slightly. "You didn't ask," he said with an edge to his voice. "You ordered me, and I'd be damned if I ever take commands from a boy half my age."

"Arrogance is foul to the ears," Oliver retorted with a smug grin, throwing Lilac's own words back at him.

Lilac glared at him but eventually sighed, the fight leaving his tired body. "I'm too old for that now, Ollie."

"Shows with all the wrinkles you have all over your face, you old sack of bones," Oliver teased.

Without hesitation, Lilac raised his cane and thwacked him on the head. "Watch your mouth, boy."

Rubbing his head, Oliver muttered, "Do that again, and I'll break your cane."

But they both knew the threat was hollow. Lilac had taught Oliver everything, and he wasn't about to hurt the one man who knew him inside and out.

Lilac leaned back, chuckling as he sipped his coffee. "I heard from a little birdie that someone, apart from me, has finally been able to get under your skin."

Oliver's jaw clenched, and he shot Lilac a venomous look. "You must be delighted knowing that after you die, I will forever be tormented."

Lilac's laughter echoed through the room. "What's her name?"

"Mind your business, old prune," Oliver snapped, the thought of anyone knowing her name made his blood boil.

"Secretive, are we?" Lilac's voice was light, but the glint in his eyes said he knew more than he was letting on. "She must really get under your skin."

Oliver shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His eyes darted back to his work before muttering, "Hastings."

"Hastings? That's a strange name for a girl."

"You're disturbing my work," Oliver said, his voice tightening as he refocused on his computer. "Shoo, if you don't have anything productive to say."

"As much as I would be ecstatic at the possibility of seeing my grandchild before I die, Sylvester College is very strident with their rules."

"What nonsense are you going on about, old man?" Lilac simply smiled. "Nothing, my child. Nothing at all." Oliver shot him a death glare.

"Why do you look at me like you want to curse me? Right, you actually know how to curse. I remember you had an obsession with Harry Potter and could recite the lines from memory." His dark eyes looked distant as he tapped his fingers on Oliver's desk.

"That was a long time ago."

"So you don't still keep your wand on the top shelf? Only your wand."

"Why did you pick me for your mad rumblings? Do you enjoy embarrassing me?"

"Hmm. I do but you wouldn't have to face it if you got me a daughter-in-law, then I'd be able to share all of these things with her."

"Over my dead body."

"I'm the old one, so you mean mine." Oliver tugged at his tie, rubbing his temples. This man was truly giving him a headache.

"Now I know Voldemort sent you to torture me."

Lilac tilted his head slightly, a satisfied smile appearing on his face. He was right. Oliver rolled his eyes.

"On a more serious note, when will you get married, Ollie? Just like me, you aren't getting any younger."

"Never." He didn't even look up from his laptop as he answered. This particular conversation was embedded into Oliver's mind. He knew how it would end.

"That was a long time ago, Ollie. I know it's hard for you to move on but not every woman is the same." Hearing this, his hand paused. An expression flickering in his whiskey eyes before it went back to normal.

Lilac sighed deeply. "I just want you to be happy, that's all. I want you to forget everything and be at peace with yourself, Ollie." Oliver didn't respond making the old man sigh again.

****

Professor Wilde paced in front of the large glass windows, his hands clasped behind his back as he explained the intricacies of advanced cybersecurity protocols. His voice was sharp, authoritative, and deliberate.

"In today's digital age, the first line of defense is a properly structured firewall. It's the foundation of any secure system. But the most important aspect remains vigilance. A single lapse can compromise an entire infrastructure."

A student near the front, Derek, raised his hand. Oliver nodded and he asked his question, "Professor, could you explain how a multi-layered firewall handles a persistent threat—one that adapts and changes its attack vectors over time?"

Oliver nodded, pleased with the question.

 "Excellent question, Derek. A multi-layered firewall adapts by utilizing behavior-based analysis. It looks for unusual patterns, even if the attack is trying to evolve. In such a case, it's about creating a dynamic defense that changes with the attack."

As he answered, another hand shot up in the back of the room. It was Kayla, her expression serious, her eyes focused.

"But what about situations where you're not just defending, but going after a hacker? Say you're tracking someone who's constantly slipping away. Wouldn't it be ethical to use some of their methods to stop them? Sometimes, isn't it necessary to use less conventional, maybe even unethical techniques to prevent a larger threat?"

The room grew tense, students exchanging glances. Oliver stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto Kayla's. His lips thinned.

 "No, Hastings. You don't fight fire with fire. We are professionals, not vigilantes. Once you start using unethical methods, you've already lost. The ends do not justify the means."

A murmur rippled through the room. Regina, always eager to take a side, especially against Kayla, leaned forward with a smirk.

"Yeah, Kayla. Maybe you just don't get it. You think like a hacker, not a professional. There's a reason they teach ethics, you know?"

Several students laughed softly, and Kayla felt their eyes on her. But Jake, sitting to her left, shook his head.

"Come on, Regina. What Kayla's saying isn't about being a hacker. It's about being practical. In the real world, you might not have the luxury of playing by the book." Why was this boy defending her? Did he like her?

Oliver slammed his hand down on the desk, the sudden sound silencing the room.

"We are not here to justify criminal behavior, Mr. Hales. Practicality doesn't excuse a lack of integrity." He turned back to Kayla, his voice colder. "And Hastings, you seem disturbingly comfortable with the idea of crossing ethical boundaries."

Kayla's jaw tightened. She stood up straighter, refusing to back down.

"It's not about being comfortable, Professor. It's about understanding that sometimes the world is grey. If a hacker is consistently eluding us and causing damage, shouldn't we adapt? Aren't we responsible for protecting people—by any means necessary?"

Oliver's face hardened as he began pacing again, his steps quicker, more agitated. He hated that she had this effect on him.

 "No. Once you decide the rules don't apply to you, you become no different than the ones we're trying to stop. You're walking a dangerous path."

Regina, sensing the opportunity to pile on, crossed her arms, "Honestly, Kayla, maybe you should reconsider this whole cybersecurity thing, after all, you are a Theatre Arts major. You sound more like a criminal than someone who should be protecting people."

Kayla ignored her, her focus still on Oliver. She noticed something in his tone—this wasn't just an academic disagreement for him. There was something personal about his anger, something deeper than the discussion at hand.

"You're making this personal, Professor. But I stand by what I said. You can't always afford to be idealistic in this field. Sometimes, the rules don't work."

Years of practiced calmness was the only reason he didn't lash out. He stopped pacing and faced her, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Idealism? Do you think I'm naïve? I don't care if life is 'grey,' as you so conveniently put it. There is no justification for abandoning principles. Not ever." He would know. This conversation was putting him on edge, opening a box of emotions he had kept at bay for years. The nightmares.

Kayla felt a surge of frustration but kept her voice leveled.

"I'm not saying abandon principles, Professor. But you can't be so rigid. There are lives on the line."

The room was dead silent now. Oliver took a deep breath, visibly attempting to regain control of his temper. But when he spoke again, his voice was biting.

"This conversation is over, Hastings. If you're so determined to see the world through such a twisted lens, maybe you should reconsider your place in this class."

Kayla didn't flinch. She wasn't about to back down now. "Maybe you should reconsider yours if you're unwilling to adapt to the world as it is, instead of how you want it to be."

For a moment, no one spoke. The air between them was thick with tension. Then, Jake nodded in silent support, though others, like Reigna, shot Kayla glares. But Kayla didn't care. She had made her point, and whether or not Oliver agreed, she wasn't about to apologize for it. Luckily the electronic buzzer echoed signalling the end of the class. As the students packed their things, Regina walked over to Kayla, slamming her books on her desk with a thud.

"This class might seem like a joke to you but many of us worked hard to be here!"

"Including me. You do realize that we all wrote an exam to be chosen for this class?" Kayla raised a brow coolly.

"Do you like it? The attention Oliver gives us every time you start your dumb arguments." 

"'Oliver'? Didn't realize you were on a first-name basis with the professor." 

"Could say the same about you? Everyone knows your reputation as a player and a…"

"A what? Complete your words and I'll show you how hard I play!" Her icy stare made Reigna stiffen. "Is this discussion about the professor or the class? Pick a struggle."

"It's about both. Don't play games with Oliver. You upset him, you psycho."  

"Professor. Professor Oliver." she snapped at her. "He will never like you or date you, Reigna so stop acting desperate and being a pick me!" She hated his name from her lips and the thought of Oliver even sparing her a glance annoyed her. The brunette's mouth flew open. "And how would you know that?"

Kayla gave a tight-lipped smile. "Dunno. A lucky guess." With that she packed her things and left leaving a flustered Reigna standing there, speechless. 

Sylvester University was one of those universities where you couldn't get in because of daddy's money. If you broke any rule, you would be expelled and blacklisted. As a future actress, she didn't need that and her parents would disown her if she got into the slightest bit of trouble. 

On her way out, she spotted Oliver gathering his things. She crossed a line with him, forgetting that he was her professor, so she hesitated, darting between the door and the handsome professor. She let out a breath, dragging her feet to go and meet him. 

"Professor, a word?" He raised his head and the way he looked at Kayla made her shuffle her feet. He always gaped at her with such intensity that made her feel like she was being cut open and clothless.

"Yes?"

"About the argument earlier I just want to say that angering you wasn't my intention." 

"Kayla Hastings, are you apologizing to me?"

"I didn't do anything wrong so why should I apologize?" She said irritated.

"You went against your professor in front of the whole class and questioned his intelligence in teaching you. One word- disrespect, so I think you owe me an apology."

Never in her life had she met someone with an ego bigger than the face of the earth. Maybe David but this man here?

Oliver tapped his fingers lightly on his desk, "What's it going to be, Hastings? Apologize or I fail you." He wanted to break through her walls, see what was beneath the carefree facade and he wanted to enjoy every minute of being in her head.

Kayla gritted her teeth. "You are abusing your power, professor."

"And where is the evidence? My words against yours." They were both so close to each other that she could feel his breath on her face, his heart thumping loudly.

"For the record, you are an asshole."

"How can such pretty lips utter such profanities?" He clicked his tongue.

"They don't just utter profanities, professor," She whispered but she didn't intentionally make it sound so wrong.

"Normally, during the olden times, people usually got on their knees."

"Oh my oh my professor, you're just dying to see me on my knees, aren't you?" She gave him her signature smile. 

"What a filthy little mouth you have, Hastings." And the thought of it around his cock, his hands fisted in her hair, made him hard. Something he rarely experienced.

Kayla leaned in, grazing his hands mistakenly making Oliver jerk back. Physical touch made Oliver uncomfortable but hers soothed him which was a problem. He wanted her close to him, to smell her and taste her. Those thoughts scared him because the girl annoyed the hell out of him and at times he wanted to choke her, which for some reason didn't sound bad to him and she might just enjoy it.

 "Like I said, I didn't mean to offend you earlier, professor." She stepped back.

Kayla tugged at her bag and turned around, walking away. "Knees, Kay? What were you thinking?" She slapped her forehead. 

"Don't be late to the next class, feisty!" His voice sounded from behind her making her grin. This was going to be a problem.