Chapter 27: Play Time

"Welcome to my humble abode."

Teacher Greg and Steffy stood in front of a wooden gate. He had brought her to his small farmhouse, nestled just a few miles away from school.

"I wanted to show you this during the day," he said, unlocking the gate, "but since we're already here, let's savor it anyway."

Giggling, Steffy stepped eagerly onto the rocky pathway. Both of them had separately made up excuses to sneak away from the party.

"Oops, be careful," Teacher Greg warned, gently guiding her toward a well-lit section of the path.

They passed by a large fishpond, its surface calm and glistening under the moonlight. Further ahead, fireflies flitted through the trees, their soft glow forming tiny specks of gold in the darkness. The sight completely captivated Steffy.

"Did you know our province has many mythical stories about fireflies?" Teacher Greg asked.

Steffy nodded. "Of course. Some say fireflies signal the presence of elementals. Others claim they're lost souls searching for the path to the afterlife."

"And do you believe in those stories?"

"Sir, it's a myth. A fantasy. It isn't real."

"But what if they were real?" he challenged. "What if there's another world hidden out there, just beyond our reach?"

Steffy fell silent for a moment. "There are only two worlds, sir Greg. And only one holds absolute power and wealth."

"What about the other?"

"I won't say much about it. That world is full of filth and poverty. No one from the first world would ever choose to step into it. But sometimes, a man has to make sacrifices to crawl his way out of that difficult world… my father taught me that."

Teacher Greg studied her, intrigued. "That's quite interesting." He then asked, "So… which of the two worlds do you belong, Steffy?"

She simply smirked, offering no answer.

They continued walking until they reached his fancy farmhouse. Once inside, Teacher Greg switched on the lights, instantly illuminating the room. Steffy's expression revealed her amazement.

Pride flickered in Greg's eyes. He had carefully curated this private retreat. Everything here was his idea. The living room featured an expensive sala set, a thick carpet stretching across the floor, and a warm furnace crackling to the right. An average-sized chandelier hung from the ceiling. Maroon curtains, rich and elegant, added to the lavish feel. Everything was almost reminiscent of a five-star hotel suite in the city. To the left, a sleek minibar displayed an assortment of fine wines and liquor. The kitchen and dining area boasted modern appliances, including a microwave and a pristine white refrigerator. And above it all, standing elevated on the right side, was his mini-library—his personal treasure trove of books and reading materials.

"Nice place, sir. Well, 'nice' is an understatement. This place is gorgeous," Steffy exclaimed, her eyes sweeping over the room.

Teacher Greg smiled. "Thank you, Miss Rivera. I always come here whenever work stresses me out. The ambiance helps me relax."

"I can see why. Can I go upstairs and check out the books?"

"Make yourself comfortable while I prepare drinks, food, and a warm bed to lie in."

Steffy giggled as she giddily climbed up to the library.

"You really are a teacher," she remarked, scanning the neatly arranged books.

Below, Teacher Greg tended to the fire in the furnace. "I love collecting books and reading them."

"What else do you like?" she asked, curiosity flickering in her tone.

He turned to face her. "I like drinking. And shooting."

"Shooting?" Steffy was already making her way back down the stairs.

Chuckling, Teacher Greg gave her an amused look. "Yes. With guns."

She exhaled dramatically and wandered toward his mini-bar, picking up a bottle of red wine. When she gestured to pour herself a drink, he simply nodded in approval.

"I also like guns," she said, filling her glass.

Teacher Greg smirked. "Guns don't suit you."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's what Daddy always said. He never let me hold one."

"So, you've never held a gun before?"

Steffy shook her head as she took a slow sip of wine. But of course, Steffy first held a gun when she was just seven years old. It was all part of the deception. And Greg seemed to be soaking it all.

Teacher Greg leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I'll teach you."

"You will?" Steffy's eyes lit up with excitement.

He chuckled, closing the space between them. Drawing her in, he pulled her into an embrace. Her arms instinctively draped around his neck. "Yes. But first…" His voice turned silky, his hands sliding to her waist. "…let's do something much more exciting than playing with guns."

Steffy smirked. "I know exactly what you want. And it just so happens…" She leaned closer, her breath warm against his skin. "…that it's exactly what I want, too."

Greg's lips curled into a smirk. "And what is that, hmm?"

Steffy giggled as he lifted her onto the table, her legs snaking around his waist. And with a teasing smile, she whispered, "Well…" She pressed her hips against him, feeling the hardness between them. "…I can play with your gun first."