Lyla returned to her dorm and slept soundly. When she woke up, it was already afternoon. She plugged in her phone, and as it powered on, she noticed two or three missed calls, all from the same unknown number.Thinking it might be important, she called back, and the person on the other end answered quickly."Not answering my calls? I thought that crazy woman might've killed you in the lab," came the all-too-familiar mocking tone. There was no doubt—it was Carlo.Despite the teasing, his words carried a hint of concern. A warm feeling spread through Lyla’s chest. She replied awkwardly, “I... I was too exhausted and fell asleep.”“Your stuff’s fixed. When are you picking them up?” His tone was casual, as if both of them were purposefully avoiding the awkward kiss from earlier that morning.Lyla glanced at the time. It was already 4 PM. Even if she got up, washed, ate, and took the subway to his place, it would be nighttime by the time she arrived. Just thinking about last night made her
Lyla’s fingers tightened around her phone as she read Carlo’s message. She knew his words were meant to be a warning, but she couldn't wait any longer.Considering the dinner tonight, she quickly freshened up and chose a decent dress, then headed to the lab. There, she used a public computer to write a detailed email to the department chair and her advisor, explaining the events of the previous night and attaching the screenshot as evidence.By the time she finished, it was almost 6 p.m., yet her phone had no messages or calls from Carlo. What happened to dinner? Lyla huffed in annoyance. The wave of relief she'd felt earlier had given way to hunger, and her stomach growled as if on cue.Not one to let a man’s delay ruin her plans, she texted Carlo, "I'm at the lab. When are you coming?"*After five minutes, Carlo responded with a simple, "Busy. Grab something to eat and wait for me." The tone was casual, like she was some secret lover waiting on him to finish up his work.Lyla rolle
Lyla felt a surge of energy as she struggled to open her eyes. Through her blurred vision, she could make out Carlo’s familiar figure running toward her. A few meters away, he leaped into the air and delivered a powerful kick, sending Jessica flying.The pressure on her throat vanished instantly, and Lyla could finally breathe again. She lay on the ground, gasping for air as her vision cleared. For the first time, she saw an expression on Carlo's face that wasn’t his usual mockery or anger—it was fear, as if he was terrified of losing something precious. He grabbed her hand tightly and helped her sit up."Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.Lyla shook her head. She still couldn’t speak, her body trembling from the shock and fear. Carlo didn’t say anything further. He examined her, pressing gently on her limbs and torso to make sure she hadn’t broken any bones. Satisfied she wasn’t seriously hurt, he scooped her up effortlessly in his arms and carried her tow
Lyla grabbed her phone from Carlo’s car and picked up her bag from the ground, signaling for Carlo to follow.Carlo didn’t refuse, but instead of taking the elevator, he motioned for Lyla to lead him up the stairs. As they ascended, he trailed behind her, speaking in Italian on the phone, a language Lyla couldn’t understand. Concern crept over her—what if he was planning something dangerous against Jessica? At every landing, she turned her head slightly to observe his expression, searching for any sign of malice.Carlo, noticing her subtle movements, paused just before the next stairwell. He temporarily put his phone aside and, still in Italian, called out, "Hey, Lyla, will you be my girlfriend?"“Huh?” Lyla stopped and turned around, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you talking to me?"Seeing the confusion in her expression, Carlo realized she hadn’t understood. His lips curled into a mischievous smile as he switched to English, “Oh, I was just ordering food. Authentic Italian. I
Lyla immediately stopped what she was doing, concern flashing across her face. "Did I hurt you?" she asked. She realized she had tied the bandage a bit too tight, and now blood was seeping through, staining the gauze.Carlo furrowed his brows, his expression a mix of pain and innocence. "Lyla, do you hate me that much?"Lyla knew he was faking it—Carlo was a master at twisting words—but guilt still crept in. After all, he had gotten hurt because of her. She carefully unwrapped the bloodied bandage and replaced it with a fresh roll, this time working more gently.Carlo remained silent, his eyes fixated on the equipment in the lab.Lyla followed his gaze before explaining, "That's our lab’s newest piece of equipment. It measures endorphin levels.""Endorphins?" Carlo inquired, intrigued."Yes," she continued, "endorphins are chemicals produced in the brain that act like morphine, providing pain relief and pleasure. Our study explores the relationship between pain and stress relief. One o
Lyla's blue eyes glared defiantly at Carlo as she bit her lip, standing her ground while slowly attaching the sensors to her head.The monitor flickered to life, showing a blank graph with a faintly fluctuating line. She turned, hands braced on the table, leaning slightly forward.“Go ahead,” she breathed deeply, “I’ll prove you wrong.”In the next instant, she felt herself pulled into a firm embrace, spun around until she realized she was draped across Carlo’s lap. Her stomach pressed against his knees, legs dangling over the edge, forming a near-perfect 90-degree angle. The skirt she had carefully chosen for dinner now draped over her knees, its thin fabric tracing the curves of her body.“How dare—” "Smack!"Carlo’s hand struck her backside. “Shout any louder, and I’m sure those diligent students left in this building will hear you.”Humiliated, Lyla flushed a deep red. She knew Carlo wasn’t bluffing—there were probably still people in the building, and the thought of them hearing
Carlo’s hand slowly trailed up from her sore backside to her hair, stroking Lyla’s trembling body as if soothing a frightened kitten.After a long silence, he spoke, his voice much gentler than before. “Lyla, you were wrong.”“Yes, I was wrong,” Lyla obediently nodded.“No, what I mean is—you were wrong,” Carlo repeated, lifting her chin gently to make her face forward.In front of her, the equipment screen lit up, displaying a blank coordinate grid. Now, a winding line appeared, wavering slightly but showing an overall slow and steady rise.Lyla knew this experiment well enough to understand exactly what it meant.Her earlier guilt disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming wave of shame as the undeniable truth stared her in the face.Carlo had been right. She was wrong. If she truly believed in science, trusted that experiments didn’t lie, then she had to admit the truth. She enjoyed being controlled and had, in fact, felt a certain pleasure in the measured pain.Carlo's hand slid fro
Lyla’s terrified and helpless eyes darted to Carlo, who seemed to have already anticipated her thoughts. Before she could react, he wrapped his arm around her, swiftly lifting her and spinning them both behind a set of curtains in the corner. A row of metal cabinets holding old materials stood there, blending into the background. Carlo gently set Lyla down. She hastily pulled up her underwear and tried to shrink into the shadows, wishing she could disappear.At that moment, Liam entered the lab, phone in hand, walking straight to Chloe’s desk—Chloe, another researcher in their group and also Liam’s girlfriend.“Next time, remember to keep your keys with you instead of making me run out here in the middle of the night to find them,” he said into the phone with a hint of frustration. Just as he was about to leave, he paused, his gaze drawn to the screen of the lab equipment.“Chloe, did you run any tests with a participant this afternoon?” Liam asked, moving closer to the equipment.“N