One Night With My Alpha Professor novel Chapter 261

Chapter 261 

Audrey 

“Does this man look familiar to you?” 

Edwin slowly pushed the drawing across the cold metal interrogation table. Sophia sat on the other side of that table, her hair hanging in her face, her eyes ringed with dark circles, and her orange jumpsuit wrinkled. 

She’d been in solitary confinement for days, and yet somehow, she still hadn’t cracked. 

But she would today. Because the drawing that Joseph gave us… It had to mean something. And Sophia knew what it meant. We were sure of it. 

Her expression was unreadable as ever as she slowly leaned forward and inspected the drawing. There was a brief silence before she shrugged and leaned back in her chair. 

“I’m afraid I don’t recognize that man,” she replied casually. 

I leaned forward, pressing my fingers into the cool metal. “Really? Because that little human boy with soot in his lungs, Joseph, seemed pretty adamant that this man–‘Mr. B‘–had something to do with his torment.” 

Sophia’s lips curled into a small smile, cold and humorless. “Children say and do the darndest things, don’t they?” 

My blood began to boil at the corrupt orphanage director’s cool attitude. I wanted to throttle her until she finally spilled whatever secrets she was hiding. And I almost did. I could feel my muscles tingling to leap across the table and show her what happened to people who didn’t cooperate. 

But then Edwin’s hand brushed against my arm, pulling me out of my temporary stupor. “Tread lightly,” his voice echoed through our Mindlink. “She’s cracking. I can feel it.” 

He was right; I could see the flicker of something in her eyes, the tiniest crack in her calm facade. 

So I took a breath to steady myself and stepped back, letting my mate take over. 

“Let me tell you what I see,” Edwin said, his voice deceptively soft. “I see the face of a man. A man who is apparently connected to you. A man who is involved in the illegal buying and selling of human children from your orphanage.” 

Sophia remained silent. 

“At least, that’s how it seems,” Edwin said, folding his arms across his chest. “Perhaps I’m wrong. And perhaps, if I sentence you to death, I’ll never get the opportunity to find out if I am wrong.” 

Her smile faltered. Just for a second, but it was enough. “You’re bluffing,” she said with a huff. 

Edwin simply shrugged one shoulder. “Crescent hasn’t sentenced anyone to death in a very long time. But when it comes to children, no one would be surprised. Nor would they mourn someone as disgusting as you.” 

“If you tell us what you know,” I said slowly, carefully, “then maybe that won’t happen.” 

The orphanage director was silent for several long moments before she said a little too quickly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I–I don’t know any ‘Mr. B.” 

Edwin and I just stared at her, long and hard, searching her face for any crack in the mask she had so carefully constructed. She was trembling now, the slightest quiver in her hands giving her away. 

Suddenly, I felt it. The tiniest shred of uncertainty in her mind. The barest fracture in that adamant wall she’d somehow erected around her memories. 

Now was my chance. Before she could steel herself again, I pushed into her mind. 

The world blurred, dissolving around me, and I was suddenly plunged into the storm that was Sophia’s psyche. 

Memories flashed around me–children crying, men in uniforms, unmarked vans. A pile of cash. A not–so–anonymous ‘benefactor‘. 

“Atticus thanks you,” one of the men in uniforms said as he handed her an envelope fat with cash. “He wanted me to instruct you to put this money toward your infirmary. We need the kids healthy before they come to the factory.” 

173 

L 

9:24 AM 

Chapter 261 

Sophia scoffed as she flipped through the bills in her hand. “I hope he left extra for me. I won’t sink all of my profits into renovations.” 

“Don’t worry. There’s plenty left over for you.” 

Suddenly, in a rush of phantom wind, I was thrust out of Sophia’s mind. Those mental walls of hers slammed back up, thicker than before, but it was too late. I’d seen enough. 

“It’s true,” I whispered, shoving what I had seen through the bond so Edwin could see for himself. “She has been selling the children. To a man named Atticus.” 

Edwin’s eyes widened. “Atticus B.,” he said slowly. “I can think of one man with those initials: Atticus Black. Mr. Blackt 

I suddenly felt as if the floor disappeared from beneath my feet. Mr. Black… Was he truly the one behind this? 

“Is this true?” I asked, turning to face Sophia again. “This ‘anonymous benefactor‘ of yours… Was his name Atticus Black? 

Sophia’s shoulders slumped as she realized that she’d been caught. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask questions,” she choked out. “I–I just took the money. He… he wanted the children in good condition before they were taken. Some… factory or something.” 

I felt my stomach twist. “Joseph,” I breathed. “He was sent back because he was sick, wasn’t he? Atticus didn’t want him because he wasn’t healthy enough to work.” 

Sophia nodded miserably, crocodile tears pooling in her eyes. 

I didn’t feel a shred of pity for her. She knew what she had done. She could have refused the offer, could have said no. But she hadn’t. Because she was greedy. 

Without another word, Edwin and I nodded to each other and left the interrogation room. Sophia’s sobs were cut off as the door slammed shut behind us. 

“We need to stop this,” Edwin said quietly, his hand tightening around the glass of whiskey he was holding. “But we can’t just storm one of the trucks. We have to do it sneakily, make sure they don’t know we’re coming.” 

The living room was dark as we all sat around the coffee table, a couple of candles casting flickering light on the walls. Peter ran his hands through his hair in one of the armchairs, Tina sat cross–legged on the floor, and Avis and Gavin stood quietly in the doorway to the kitchen. 

We’d called everyone here to discuss what we had learned. We needed as many minds working on this problem as we could afford. 

“I think we should follow one of the trucks,” Charles, who was pacing behind the sofa, mused. “See where they’re headed, then storm the so–called ‘factory‘ that Sophia mentioned.” 

But I shook my head. “I don’t want any more kids getting loaded up on one of those trucks, even if it’s only temporary. It’s not fair to them.” 

As I spoke, I glanced toward the picture of Eliza and Edwin sitting on the nearby shelf. She wasn’t here tonight. Neither Edwin nor I had the heart to tell her everything just yet. The thought of what had happened to poor little Joseph. She’d be furious and heartbroken.