Chapter 195

Julie’s Point of View

I scrambled up from my seat, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest. I tried to bolt toward the exit to escape his interrogating gaze, but he was miles faster than me. In the blink of an eye, he reached the door and locked it with the key.

Then he turned to me, his massive frame blocking every possible escape route. "What are you hiding, Julie?" he hissed commandingly.

I backed away, my breath hitching. "Nothing." He tried to approach me, so I ran in a panic toward the inner room where the bed was.

He followed me with confident strides and grabbed my arm firmly, forcing me to stop. "Julie... what is this you’re hiding?" he asked sharply.

"Nothing, Mr. Robert!" I screamed in despair.

Suddenly, he reached his hand toward my chest where the light was glowing. I grabbed his hand with my trembling fingers, trying to push him away. "What are you doing? Are you harassing me?"

He paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow in disapproval. "Harassing you?"

"Yes!" I said with a feigned sharpness to cover my fear. "You’re putting your hand in my chest without my permission. What do you call that?"

"Take out whatever is in your bra right now, Julie..." he replied with a sternness that brooked no argument. "Or I’ll take it out myself!"

"I won’t!" I said with desperate defiance.

He didn’t give me another chance. With a swift movement, he reached inside my bra and pulled out the phone. His eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at the device in his hand. Then he looked up at me, his voice muffled. "What is this?"

"A phone..." I whispered.

"I know it’s a phone!" he snapped, his anger beginning to surge. "What is it doing with you?"

I swallowed hard. "I’ll explain..."

"Yes... you will explain!" he said, his hand clenching around the phone.

I didn’t know how to start or how I would justify the existence of this cursed phone. "Or did that admirer give it to you?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.

"It was a joke! I swear there is no admirer," I said quickly.

"Then talk... where did you get this phone?" he asked sharply.

"The Professor at the university gave it to me," I said, my head bowed.

His features stiffened. "The Professor?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"And why would the Professor give you a phone, Julie?" he asked mockingly.

"He’s been teaching me for three years," I said, trying to defend myself. "He knows my father didn’t buy me a phone."

"Yes... go on," he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"He bought it for me and gave it to me as a gift," I continued, my voice shaking.

He gritted his teeth. "Why did the Professor give you the phone?"

"What’s wrong with you? I just explained that!" I shouted in frustration.

"Are you convinced by this story, Julie?" he asked with a terrifying coldness.

"This is what happened... this is what he told me," I replied instinctively.

He took another step closer, pinning me against the edge of the bed. "Do you believe this, Julie? That a university professor would just give you a phone like that without wanting something in return?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"I think you understand exactly what I mean," he said, staring deep into my eyes.

"What nonsense is this?" I said indignantly. "He’s a professor, he teaches me at the university, and he’s old! How could you think of him that way?"

"Really? Old? How old is he? I’m curious to know," he asked with biting sarcasm.

"35," I muttered.

He laughed bitterly. "35... very old indeed, Julie!"

"Fine, he’s not that old, but he’s a professor," I said nervously.

"Stop repeating that word! You’ve said it twenty times!" he yelled at me.

"Because you’re the one forcing me to repeat it!" I said, feeling wronged.

He leaned in even closer until I felt his hot breath against my face. "And when the Professor gave you the phone... why didn’t you tell me? Why did you decide to hide it from me?" he asked in a low, dangerous tone.

"Because you’d get angry," I said with bitter honesty.

"You knew I’d get angry! Why didn’t you refuse to take it from the beginning?" he asked sharply.

"I did refuse, but he insisted," I said.

"You didn’t refuse firmly enough! That’s why he found an opportunity to insist," he replied with rampant rage.

"I... I..." I tried to speak.

"You what?" he interrupted, looking down at me. "You’re just a naive girl... they can fool you with a few words and you believe them!"

I felt the sting of insult in my chest. Blood rushed to my face in anger. I pushed him away from me. "What is wrong with you? I won’t let you say that to me!"

"Does the truth hurt, Julie?" he asked with a provocative coldness, watching my distraught features.

"What truth?!" I snapped.

"That your precious professor is trying to get close to you," he said, waving the phone in my face.

"What nonsense!" I screamed at him.

"This isn’t nonsense; this is the truth you can’t see," he replied in a decisive tone.

"You’re exaggerating and you doubt all men!" I said, trying to snatch the phone back from his hand.

"Fine... let’s see what you have on this phone," he said, stepping back and unlocking the screen.

"Look! I have nothing to hide," I said with shaky defiance.

He opened the phone, and his eyes widened in mocking surprise. "The ’Dear Professor’ sent you 10 messages and there are 12 missed calls!"

"He just wants to check on me," I said weakly, swallowing hard.

"Fine, let’s see what he wrote to you," he said in a mysterious tone.

He began reading the messages, and suddenly his features froze. He gritted his teeth and said in a voice muffled by rage, "Damn it, Julie... what is this?"

I felt my heart drop. Did the Professor write something bad to me? "Stop joking! Why would the Professor write something like that?" I asked in terror.

He thrust the phone close to my face. "See for yourself!" he barked.

Yes, it was actually written there! He read the other message with biting sarcasm: "Oof... this is so hot."

"What is this? Why is he writing like this?" I asked, stunned and feeling dizzy.

He began scrolling up through the conversation, reading in a resonant voice that carried a threat: "Julie... I didn’t expect such a bold move from you."

I looked at the screen to make sure. "What move? He must have sent the message to the wrong person!" I said in shock.

"He’s saying your name, ’Julie’... how could he be wrong?!" he said, his eyes burning.

Then he scrolled up even further. Flame emojis, hearts, and surprised faces appeared. Then came the ultimate shock. I stared at the screen, feeling a coldness spread through my limbs, trying to understand if what I was seeing was real or a nightmare.

Robert looked at me in total shock, his jaw muscles clenching tightly as he asked in a terrifying voice: "Did you send him a pornographic video?"