The Professor's Mate Clause novel Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

FREYA’S POV

“I need to go to the bank.”

Adrian looks up from his phone. We are still in the kitchen. Still standing close. The almost kiss hanging between us like smoke. “What?”

“The bank. My mother left things in a safe deposit box. I need to get them.” I step back. Put distance between us. “Today. Now.”

“Freya it might not be safe. Going out in public-”

“I do not care. My mother left me answers and I need them.” I cross my arms. “You can come with me or I can go alone. Your choice.”

His jaw tightens. I can see him fighting with himself. Wanting to say no. Wanting to lock me in this penthouse where nothing can touch me.

“Fine.” He sets his phone down. “But we do this my way. My car. I drive. And if I say we leave we leave. No arguments.”

“Fine.”

“And you stay close to me. Do not wander off. Do not talk to strangers.” His eyes flash blue for just a second. “Asher has people everywhere. We cannot be careless.”

“I understand.”

He stares at me for a long moment. Like he is trying to read my mind. Figure out if I am going to fight him on this. “Get your shoes. We leave in five minutes.”

I go upstairs and grab the sneakers from the closet. Plain. Comfortable. Better for running if we need to. The thought makes my stomach turn. Running from what? Werewolves? Asher’s people?

This is my life now.

I meet Adrian at the elevator. He changed too. Black jeans. Dark jacket. He looks dangerous. Controlled. Every inch the predator.

We ride down in silence. The air between us feels charged. Wrong. Like something needs to be said but neither of us knows how to say it.

His car is waiting in the garage. Not the Bentley from the wedding. A different one. Black. Sleek. Probably costs more than most houses.

He opens my door. I slide in. The interior smells like leather and him. That clean dark scent that makes

me want to lean closer.

Adrian gets in the driver’s side. Starts the engine. It purrs to life. “Where is the bank?”

1/3

“Fifth Street. Bank of America.”

+25 Bonus

He pulls out of the garage and into traffic. Morning sunlight streams through the windows. The city looks normal. People walking. Cars honking. Everyone going about their day like werewolves do not exist.

“What do you think is in the box?” Adrian asks after several blocks of silence.

“My mother said letters from my father. Documents about pack wars. Proof of who killed him.” I watch the buildings blur past. “Answers.”

“You might not like what you find.”

“I do not like anything about my life right now. At least this way I will know the truth.”

He glances at me. Something soft crosses his face. “For what it is worth I am sorry. About all of this. About your mother. Your father. The lies.”

“Are you? Sorry I mean.” I turn to look at him fully. “Or are you just sorry I found out?”

“Both maybe.” He focuses back on the road. “I wish things were different. Wish you could have had a normal life. Wish your parents were alive. Wish I did not have to be the one to tell you the truth.”

“But?”

“But I am not sorry you are here. Not sorry I found you. Not sorry that you are mine even if you do not want to be.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel. “I know that makes me selfish. I know you probably

hate me for it. But I cannot lie about how I feel.”

I do not know what to say to that. Do not know how to respond when he is this honest. This raw.

So I just look out the window and try to ignore the way my chest feels tight.

We pull up to the bank fifteen minutes later. It is a large building. Glass and concrete. People in suits walk in and out. Everything looks official. Intimidating.

Adrian parks and turns off the engine. “Stay close. If anything feels wrong we leave immediately.”

“You keep saying that. What exactly would feel wrong?”

“Trust me. You will know.” He gets out and comes around to open my door.

Inside the bank is cold. Air conditioning blasting. The floors are marble. Everything echoes. A woman at the desk looks up as we approach.

“Can I help you?” Her smile is professional. Bored.

“I need to access a safe deposit box.” I pull the key from my pocket. “Number 2847.”

“Of course. Do you have identification?”

I hand over my license. She types something into her computer. Frowns. “I am sorry but this box is registered to a Helen Reed. Are you authorized?”

2/3

“She was my mother. She died years ago.”

+25 Bonus

The woman’s expression softens slightly. “I am very sorry for your loss. But I cannot grant access without proper authorization. Do you have a death certificate? Proof of inheritance?”

My stomach drops. I did not think about this. Did not consider I might need paperwork. “No. I do not have those things.”

“Then I am afraid-”

“She is authorized.” Adrian steps forward. His voice is smooth. Commanding. “Check your records again. Helen Reed listed her daughter Freya as a co-owner of the box.”

The woman looks uncertain. Types again. Her frown deepens. “I do not see any-”

Adrian leans closer. His eyes catch the light. Flash blue for just a second. “Look again. Carefully.”

The woman blinks. Stares at the screen. Her expression goes blank. “Oh. Yes. Here it is. Freya Reed listed as co-owner. My apologies.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify