My Wickedly Charming Professor: Married On Paper, Obsessed In Class

Three years had passed since I became Liz Andrade Navarro, a wife in name more than anything else. The man I married was still a stranger to me.

Looking back, the situation was absurd. At 21, I had entered a marriage without knowing the person beside me, but fairness had never been part of my life. When I was 16, my parents died in a plane crash and left me completely alone. In the aftermath, I learned that my father had prepared a will meant to secure my future if anything happened to them.

The arrangement took effect the moment I turned 18. I was required to marry my legal guardian.

Nothing could have prepared me for the conditions attached to that decision. One clause stated that I had to remain married until I reached the age of 25. Another demanded that I earn a law degree so I could work as a lawyer and eventually inherit my family's companies, all of which operated within the legal field. Only after meeting every requirement would I gain control over my assets and my life, including the right to file for divorce.

Fate intervened again not long after. My guardian died from a heart attack at only 32. With his death came another forced change. I was required to marry someone else.

This time, the man chosen for me was the uncle of my former guardian. He was another stranger, though younger than I expected at 27.

The irony was not lost on me. His nephew was older than him, and the whole thing felt unreal.

On the day of the wedding, I never even saw him. The paperwork arrived through Bruno, the lawyer my father had trusted to oversee everything. I signed the documents that declared me legally married to Henry McNight, and that was the extent of it. There was no ceremony. There was no dress. No guests witnessed it.

Soon after, another shift followed. I moved into Henry's mansion. Sharing a home with someone I had never met unsettled me at first, yet I learned to accept what had been decided for me. The house itself was anything but simple. It stretched across two floors and included a garage large enough for three cars.

Three years had gone by since then. Despite the fear I once carried, I had never actually shared the space with my husband. The only constant presence in the house was the housekeeper.

Sandra was in her fifties and carried herself with quiet devotion. She treated me like her own daughter, and over time, she became the closest thing to family I had left.

Breakfast was already on the table when clarity finally settled in.

"Sandra, could you call Bruno and ask him to come by?"

"Of course, Liz. May I ask why?" she asked, peering at me over her glasses.

"I want a divorce," I said after a pause. Being tied to a man I had never truly known had become unbearable. A tired sigh followed the admission.

"Easy now, my dear. In three more years, you will be free."

All I knew about my husband came from a single photograph Sandra had shown me once. From that image alone, I learned he was tall and blond, with sharp green eyes and light brown hair. His beard looked untrimmed, giving him a rugged appeal I could not deny. Even so, I doubted he would have spared a glance for an 18 year old girl back then.

"No, Sandra. I want to live. I want to experience things."

She set her cup down and studied me in silence.

"None of that feels possible while I am still married."

"You can still live. Go out with your friends. Enjoy yourself."

"Mrs. Navarro," Petter called from the doorway.

"I am coming. Goodbye," I answered. Turning back, I picked up my bag and leaned in to kiss Sandra on the forehead.

"Take care, my girl."

Life inside the mansion taught me how to build my own version of family. I treated every member of the staff with genuine care, because they were the people who filled the silence and kept me from feeling alone.

Over time, Sandra and Petter found comfort in each other. Both carried the weight of difficult marriages behind them, and instead of rushing, they chose companionship when their paths crossed.

Everyone continued calling me by my parents' surname, and I never corrected them. The name McNight never felt like it belonged to me, especially when Henry chose hotel rooms over staying under the same roof as his young and inconvenient wife whenever he came to New York.

The drive ended in front of my college, its glass facade gleaming with polished excess. I passed through the turnstiles and immediately spotted Ana, my unfiltered and unpredictable friend.

"Liiiz, come on. You have to see this," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with barely contained excitement. "We have a new professor."

"You look unusually thrilled. I do not remember you ever rushing into a classroom."

"This has nothing to do with learning," she replied with a grin. "It is about the professor." Her tone dipped suggestively. "He is ridiculously attractive."

A laugh slipped out as I shook my head. Ana had always believed every instructor was handsome.

The moment we stepped inside the room, my body betrayed me. My palms grew damp, and my throat tightened as recognition struck. Standing there was a man I knew only by name and circumstance. Taller than I imagined. Broader. More striking than the photograph I once saw. Henry McNight.

My eyes widened before I forced myself to recover, schooling my expression as quickly as I could. Whatever this moment was, I could not allow it to show how shaken I truly felt.

"What on earth," I blurted out, my voice carrying farther than I intended.

"I warned you. The man is gorgeous."

She had no idea I was married. As far as she knew, I was just someone with a generous inheritance who lived in a large house alongside Sandra and Petter. She probably assumed they were long time employees of my family, nothing more.

My thoughts scattered the instant a deep, confident voice filled the room.

"Good morning. My name is Henry McKnight. I will be taking over your Civil Law classes, and I hope this course proves useful to all of you."

He turned to the board and began writing, already immersed in the subject.

Civil Law. Of all things.

Once I took my seat, the lecture began, yet not a single word truly reached me. My attention stayed fixed on him. On the way he carried himself. On the tempting curve of his mouth. On the absurd reality that the man standing there, teaching law, was legally mine.

Judging by the hushed voices and soft laughter rippling through the room, I was far from alone in noticing him. He carried a composed seriousness, paired with a faint, knowing smile that suggested he was fully aware of the effect he had. Still, he did not indulge it, continuing his lecture with a focus that made it far more engaging than any class before his.

I felt almost calm until his gaze lifted. His eyes narrowed slightly in my direction, and a chill ran through me. Did he recognize me. Did he know. No. That was impossible. At least, I hoped it was.

"Come on, Liz," Ana insisted softly as the class ended, nudging me back to the present.

"Yeah," I answered, forcing myself to sound composed.

"Please. Wipe the look off your face and move. We have another class." Ana laughed.

We barely reached the doorway when my foot caught on nothing at all. I went down hard, and my books scattered across the floor in every direction.

Perfect. A complete cliche. Any second now, he would step in and play the hero.

"Are you hurt?" Henry asked as he came closer.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My voice refused to cooperate. When I stayed silent, he lowered himself and started gathering my books. Our eyes met briefly, and the contact sent my thoughts spiraling.

He offered his hand, and I took it without hesitation. Only then did I notice Ana frozen beside me, staring at the scene like she had forgotten how to blink.

"Th-thank you," I stammered, hating myself for the stumble in my words.

"You are welcome. Just try to be more careful next time."

"Ana, we are leaving," I said quickly. I did not respond to him. I grabbed Ana's arm and pulled her away.

"Did you notice how he acts?" The moment we stepped into the hallway, the words rushed out.

"He is exactly my type." Ana sighed dreamily.

"He was rude."

"No, he was not. He helped you."

The bell rang before I could respond, and I silently thanked it for cutting the conversation short.

"Move, Ana." I tugged her along, forcing her attention away from the professor. Or rather, the man who was legally my husband.

Every class that followed passed without leaving a trace in my mind. My thoughts stayed trapped on those green eyes, sharper and more striking than the photograph I had seen years ago. Reality only made it worse. He was even more attractive in person. And the cruel irony sat heavy in my chest. He was my husband. At least he did not recognize me, and I prayed it stayed that way until the divorce papers were signed.

Ana's voice eventually pulled me out of my spiral.

"Hey, Liz. Are you alright?"

"I am fine," I answered quickly, even though the lie tasted bitter.

"Good. Then let us go. That was our last class."

When I glanced around, the classroom stood completely empty.

"Come on."

"There is a party at Samantha's place tonight. Are you coming?"

"I do not feel so great," I admitted, forcing a small frown.

"Let me guess. Did the gorgeous professor leave you in pieces?" she teased, laughing.

"That is not it," I said quickly, forcing the excuse. "I think I have cramps. Or maybe my stomach's rebelling against whatever I ate earlier." Either way, it sounded convincing enough.

We walked down the hallway together.

"I would stay with you," Ana said casually, "but I am going to see if I can finally get somewhere with Igor." Bold as ever, she said it without shame, though she still pretended to play it cool.

"Good luck."

Igor had always been her impossible crush. He had never shown the slightest interest, a fact everyone seemed to notice except her.

"Thanks. See you Monday." She hugged me quickly and headed toward the gate.

I stayed behind, watching her disappear into the crowd.

"Are you feeling alright?" That familiar low voice reached me from behind, sending an unwelcome shiver through my body. Logic reminded me that he had no idea who I was, yet my reaction betrayed me anyway.

"Navarro," I answered as I turned around. "Liz Navarro." The irony was intentional. If he thought I had forgotten how dismissive he had been earlier, he was wrong.

"I apologize. It takes time to learn all my students' names."

The sound of his voice lingered longer than it should have. To him, I was nothing more than another student.

I said nothing. I simply turned and walked toward the gate without looking back.

"Miss Navarro? Miss?"

I kept walking despite hearing him call after me, and I never turned around. Relief washed over me the moment I stepped through the gate and spotted Petter's car waiting out front. I thanked him silently for arriving on time and climbed in without hesitation.

"Did something go wrong, Liz?"

"It is nothing, Petter," I replied, trying to sound normal. His eyes stayed on me through the rearview mirror. "Something I ate must not have agreed with me."

"Should I take you to a doctor?"

"That will not be necessary. Sandra's tea will fix it."

"Alright."

The car pulled away, and the ride home passed in a blur of thoughts I could not quiet. Every mile only dragged me further into my own head. When we finally arrived, another surprise waited for me. Bruno was already there, sitting stiffly as usual, his expression unreadable and severe.

Bruno?

"Liz, my dear." Sandra hurried over the moment she saw me. "You look pale. Are you feeling alright?"

"I ate something bad," I said, forcing a weak expression to sell the lie.

"I will make you some tea," she replied at once before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Thank you." I slipped off my bag, dropped it by the door, and sat down across from Bruno.

"Is everything alright?"

"I am fine, Bruno. But I am curious. What brings you here?"

"Mr. McNight wants to speak with you personally about the divorce."

"There is no point. He never cared to know who I was before, so why start now just to end it?" The frustration I had been holding back finally surfaced. "He did not even bother to attend our wedding. This arrangement has dragged on far longer than it should have. Just send the papers and I will sign them. That is how this works, right?"

"He plans to come to the city to handle it himself," Bruno explained.

"He is already here," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Sometimes, my mouth moved faster than my thoughts.

"What?"

"I saw it in the newspaper," I responded quickly, forcing the lie. "It mentioned that he had already arrived."

"Oh." He nodded, seemingly convinced.

"Tell him to sign the documents and be done with it. All I want is my life back. Say whatever you have to."

"I will try, Liz. I cannot promise anything. Mr. McNight is not an easy man."

"That is only because he has never seen me lose my temper."

"I will do what I can," he said, already sounding doubtful. His expression made it clear he did not expect success. "I will call you."

"Thank you."

Bruno stood and made his way to the door.

Was my husband really that frightening? Every time someone mentioned him, there was always fear tucked into their voice.

Sandra returned a moment later with my tea. The boldo was bitter and unpleasant, but I drank every last drop anyway. I did not have the energy to explain what had truly unsettled me.