Chapter 7 The Conditions

He got to work late.

A single minute late, but for Kain, that was unheard of. He was disorganized, unfocused, his mind spinning and his gaze cold enough to freeze anything that crossed his path.

Worse-he hadn't had coffee.

Anyone who dared try him this morning would likely get their soul chewed out. He was wired, restless, deadly.

Then he walked into the classroom-and was immediately struck by two conflicting sensations: awe... and a sour, rising disgust.

Lucy Craig.

There she was, sitting at the grand piano with that infuriating hair, the exact shade as hers. The same maddening silver that had haunted his morning and made his blood feel like it was boiling under his skin.

And to top it off, she was playing his favorite piece-Clair de Lune, by Claude Debussy.

He stopped by the door, letting the notes wash over him. The melody was beautiful, painfully so. Too close to the memory he was trying to erase. Just as he was about to interrupt her, she transitioned smoothly into Für Elise. Beethoven.

Was this girl trying to kill him?

No sheet music. He observed, she was playing from memory, which shocked him. No one memorized a hundred classical pieces in a day and a half.

Who the hell was she?

A witch?

When she finished, he slipped into the same tactic he'd used the first time they met-his voice low and cutting from behind her.

"Was that meant to insult the composers of such brilliance?" he said coolly. "They're probably turning in their graves, listening to you mutilate their masterpieces."

Lucy nearly collapsed under the weight of his words. Her fingers trembled, her left index finger bleeding, having split open while she played. The blood smeared against the white keys like a quiet cry for mercy.

"It wasn't that terrible," she said, defiant despite the quiver in her voice.

She was right, it was beautiful, almost perfect, but not, she had missed some notes which made him realise she might not have executed his challenge as she was no witch.

"Not that terrible?" His tone was venom, exaggerated. "I told you to give up. Look at this." He gestured to the bloodied piano. "You've butchered music. Turned it into a mockery."

Part of him, an ugly part, wanted her to cry. He wanted her to feel the same chaos he'd woken up with, the same pain Veronica had rekindled.

But she didn't cry.

She clenched her jaw. Held her spine straight. Fought back the tears with something close to rage.

And for that-he envied her.

"Correct me," she said. "You're my professor. I'm here to learn. So correct me."

Her challenge made his eyes narrow. Did she even know what she was offering? Did she understand the danger of putting herself in his hands?

"I don't work like that."

"Then how do you work, Professor?" she fired back, eyes flashing. "Because I didn't come here to quit. I don't care about your reputation. I don't care if you're cold as death or the devil himself. I came here to get a degree-and I will. Whether you help me or not."

He didn't like her.

But... he was beginning to respect her.

Even if she smelled like fragility, she wore defiance like an armor.

"Fine," he said after a beat. "You want this to work? There are conditions."

She raised a brow. "What kind of conditions?"

"Number one-" he said, stepping closer, "-I don't want to see your hair."

"My hair?" she echoed, clearly horrified.

He held up a hand to silence her. "Number two-you dress like a nun. Conservative. No distractions."

Lucy opened her mouth to protest, but he continued.

"Three-no breaks. You'll work longer hours than everyone else."

She braced herself.

"And four-no boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Or any other distractions. I don't care about your preferences, I don't want hormones messing with your head."

She blinked, stunned. "You're serious."

"Deadly."

Lucy lifted a brow at his demands, a man she barely knew, dictating terms that could reshape her life. Yet this man also held the keys to her future in music.

"Sir... I don't think these conditions are very reasonable. No offense, but... what if I already have a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

It was Kain's turn to raise a brow. "Then you break up. You have to prioritize, decide what matters more. Your relationship, or your future."

She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. "Never mind," she muttered. "I'll do what I have to do. My hair, my clothes, no breaks, no relationships. Got it."

The ease of her acceptance caught Kain off guard. He'd expected resistance, maybe a self-righteous speech about her autonomy or boundaries. But she gave in without a fight, which somehow made him more uneasy.

"Good," he said, voice clipped. "Do you have a piano at home?"

The word *home* made Lucy wince, though she didn't let the pain show. She did have a piano-at her parents' house. But she was currently staying at Kyle's, and there was no way she'd ask to borrow money from him for something that personal. That would feel... like using him.

"No, I don't. I mean-I do, but I'm sort of... between places. Where I'm staying now, there's no piano."

Kain paused for a moment, tempted to ask more. But curiosity wasn't something he allowed himself, not with her.

"Right. You can buy one... actually-" he rubbed his jaw, thinking, "-I think I have an old one in storage. I'll lend it to you. Send me your address; I'll have it delivered."

Lucy's eyes widened in disbelief. Was he serious? What did he think this was, some setup for him to show up at her door like a knight in a long trench coat?

"I... I don't think that's nece-"

"Lucy," he interrupted, irritation creeping into his voice. "Do you want the piano or not?"

"I-uh-actually, sir, I'll use the piano at school. I appreciate your kindness, but-"

"You're being stupid," he snapped. "Suit yourself. I'm giving you two days to finish that music sheet. That's a grace I don't give often. I'm only extending it because I want to see what you can do."

"Four days," Lucy said suddenly, then bit her lip as if regretting it instantly.

Kain tilted his head slightly. She kept surprising him.

"Bargaining huh? Three," he countered. "No more. You impress me, show initiative, make your own corrections, and master everything I gave you-then maybe, just maybe, I'll coach you. Give you the foundation you need to become something extraordinary."

A wide, genuine smile broke across her face. Something bright and unguarded. It hit Kain harder than he cared to admit.

"Thank you so much, sir. I promise I won't disappoint you."

Kain stared at her for a long time.

When was the last time anyone thanked him for something? When was the last time he even did something worth being thanked for?

His eyes flicked over her. That silver-blonde hair-no, silver-those bright hazel eyes, that sharp but soft face that always seemed slightly pained, those lips... And legs he'd definitely miss when she started dressing like a nun. But it was for the best. For his sanity.

He couldn't have someone with that resemblance walking around his life like a ghost of the past.

"Lucy Craig?" he asked, a strange thought nudging at him.

She looked at him and gave a smile so sweet it made his pulse trip, then crash.

"Sir?"

Even her voice was like a melody. And the way she wrung her fingers, nervous or perhaps hiding something, it unsettled him. Her body said one thing. Her face said another. She was hiding pain, but it wasn't his place to ask. Nah, he didn't care.

"Do you know a Veronica?"

The smile vanished. Her brows furrowed.

Then-snap. She brightened, clicking her fingers like she'd just solved a riddle.

"Yes! Katerina Veronika! A composer from the Kingdom of Bohemia."

Kain blinked. For a second, his mouth dropped open.

He couldn't blame her for thinking in musical terms... it was annoying, funny too, but not enough to make him laugh.

"Right... her. See you in three days Lucy Craig."

"See you too, sir!" she called after him, bright and bubbly, completely unaware of the storm she'd stirred inside him.

Kain winced at her cheerfulness.

"I doubt you're that innocent, Lucy," he muttered under his breath as he walked out of the building.

But he didn't leave empty-handed.

As he passed the faculty office, he slipped her file under his coat.

It was time he did some proper research-on the one student who just might ruin him.