One Night With My Alpha Professor by Eve Above Story

Chapter 212

Audrey

The security office at Brooks Designs was dimly lit this late at night, the city block outside quiet and empty. It was almost surreal being back here; I hadn’t come here since last summer, when I was interning here.

As Edwin and I stepped inside, the security guard behind the front desk jerked awake, nearly knocking over his lukewarm coffee in his haste to stand up.

“O-Oh! Mr. Brooks…” he stammered, his face flushing red. “What brings you here at this hour?”

Edwin didn’t even bat an eye at the guard’s obvious embarrassment. “We need to see some CCTV footage from the design department. From last summer.”

The guard’s face fell slightly. “Ah, I’m sorry sir, but we archive our footage every six months to save disk space. Anything from last summer would be down in the basement archives by now.”

“Can you take us there?” I asked. “We really need to see the footage.”

The guard nodded quickly, his keys jangling as he fumbled for the ring at his hip. “Of course, of course. Follow me.”

As we made our way down to the basement, Edwin gave my hand a squeeze and sent a reassuring nudge down the mate bond. We would find the evidence we needed to prove that Mr. Black had some part in foul play surrounding my thesis.

Or at least, so I hoped.

But if we didn’t find anything… A single clip on my own security camera footage of someone photographing my project though the window wouldn’t be enough.

The basement hallway that the security guard led us to was cool and slightly musty-reminiscent of the abandoned room that Edwin and I used to meet in. In an attempt to get my mind off of my nerves, I sent an image of those days-or rather, nights-down the bond.

A moment later, Edwin jerked his hand and coughed, his face reddening.

“Minx,” Edwin’s voice echoed in my head. I suppressed a smirk.

Finally, the guard unlocked a small door at the end of the hallway. He pushed the door open to reveal a large storage room, tall metal shelves stacked high with cardboard boxes. Filing cabinets lined the walls, the single fluorescent light buzzing and flickering as it came to life.

“Here we are,” the guard said, gesturing to the room. “The security archives.”

into his pocket, he pulled out some cash and handed it to

shade of red as he took the money, his ears practically glowing. “Oh, uh… Thank you,

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You didn’t have to embarrass him like

of his mouth. “Consider it a gentle reminder to stay alert.

*

find that footage.”

through the boxes and hard drives. The task was tedious, and I found myself growing increasingly frustrated as the minutes ticked

useless box filled with footage from five years ago. “We’re never going to find

was rifling through-didn’t even respond, he was so

the sight of him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his sinewy forearms. His hair

sitting in his nightstand back home… How many nights had he sat up, looking at it

“Focus, Klein.”

of Edwin’s voice ripped me out of my reverie; he’d noticed how distracted I was. Blushing, I quickly muttered an apology and pulled another box off of

with the dates we needed. My

raced as Edwin connected it to his laptop, the blue glow of the screen illuminating our faces in

softly

the luna moth

cute when you’re focusing,” Edwin muttered, shaking

nudged him in the ribs

“Sorry, sorry…”

to watch, my form eventually left the room-and just moments later, we saw Linda enter the frame. My fists clenched involuntarily

moth

sped through the next stretch of footage-me returning from lunch, finding the mess, dealing with the aftermath. We kept sk**ing forward, and nothing else happened. I began to

Maybe-

I saw him.

was locking up the design department late that night, or so it seemed. But then he stopped and glanced around furtively before pulling out his phone and snapping several pictures of the gown. When he was

*

the footage to a flash drive. “He must have sent those images to Mr. Black. I wonder if they held onto

shuddered at the thought. It seemed ridiculous, impossible, but… Perhaps they really just hated me

perhaps, back then, they knew who I was-what I was.