The Professor’s Secret Mistress Chapter 2

Out of the darkness came a voice so thin and terrified it barely sounded human.

I fumbled for the light switch. When the bulb flickered on, the breath left my lungs.

The tiny room was overflowing with discarded boxes, old newspapers, and broken appliances. And there, tucked between a rusted water heater and a stack of winter tires, was a thin cot on the floor.

My daughter, the girl I had raised to be a queen, was curled into a ball under a moth-eaten blanket. Her face was gaunt, her hair a matted mess. She looked like a trapped animal, blinking at the light with sheer terror in her eyes.

The moment she recognized me, the dam broke. She began to sob, great racking heaves that shook her entire frame.

"Mom… you finally came back. You’re finally here."

My heart didn't just break; it turned to ash. I lunged forward, pulling her into my arms, feeling how bony her shoulders had become.

Before she could utter a single word of explanation, the door to the utility room slammed open.

"Catherine? What on earth are you doing here?"

Marina stood in the doorway, her face pale with shock. Behind her stood Jonathan, rubbing sleep from his eyes, looking annoyed rather than happy to see his wife.

Daisy’s body went rigid in my arms. She began to shake so violently her teeth chattered. She gripped my forearms, her knuckles white, but she didn't say a word.

I looked at them—the "star student" in her silk pajamas and my husband with his practiced frown—and I felt a cold, murderous clarity.

"Jonathan," I said, my voice vibrating with rage. "Explain this. Now. Why is my daughter sleeping in a closet?"

Jonathan sighed, crossing his arms. "Catherine, don't be dramatic. Daisy’s had a rough go. She failed her exams again, she’s been depressed. She told us she needed a 'minimalist space' to reflect on her failures. She chose to move in here. The girl is just being hard on herself."

He said it so casually, as if it were perfectly normal for a girl to move from a master suite to a windowless pantry.

"Reflect on her failures?" I stood up, keeping Daisy behind me. "You think I’m an idiot? I know my daughter. She would never choose this. You’re lying through your teeth."

Jonathan’s face darkened. "Catherine, watch your tone. She’s my daughter too."

Marina stepped forward, reaching out a hand as if to comfort me. "Mrs. Archer, please don't be upset. Professor Hart is right. Daisy’s been very unstable lately. We’ve all been so worried—"

I slapped her hand away so hard the crack echoed in the small room.

"Shut your mouth. You have no standing in this house."

Marina gasped, stumbling back toward Jonathan.

"Get out," I hissed. "Both of you. Out!"

Marina’s face twisted between a fake pout and genuine fear as she looked at Jonathan. He scowled at me, his ego clearly bruised.

"Fine. Take her to a room if you want. We’ll deal with your hysterics in the morning."

"To a room? Which room, Jonathan? Because it looks like this girl is living in Daisy’s suite."

Jonathan hesitated. "Well—"

"I’m staying there," Marina whispered, her voice regained its edge. "The Professor said it was a waste for such a large suite to sit empty while Daisy was… ‘reflecting.’"

"You’re staying there? On what authority? You are a guest. You are nothing."

"Catherine, enough!" Jonathan shouted. "Marina is my lead researcher. She’s staying here for the project. It’s temporary."

I didn't answer him. Daisy was trembling so hard she could barely stand. I put my arm around her, guiding her out of that hole.

"Don't be afraid, Daisy. I'm here now. No one is touching you ever again."

I led her to the guest wing. After I got her into a warm bath and tucked her into a clean bed, I sat by her side, watching her sleep.

This wasn't my daughter. Her eyes were sunken, her skin sallow. She looked haunted. I stroked her hair, my mind racing. I was going to burn Marina’s world to the ground, and Jonathan was going to pay for every second of this.

The next morning, I sat Daisy down. "Tell me about the Bar Exam, honey."

Daisy kept her head down, picking at her cuticles until they bled. I took her hands in mine and forced her to look at me. The tears started instantly.

Brokenly, the story came out.

Marina hadn't just been "mentoring." She had decided she wanted Daisy’s life. When the exam registration window opened, Marina had used her access to the house to log into Daisy’s account and change her elective modules to subjects Daisy hadn't studied.

"Dad told me I didn't have the brains for it anyway," Daisy sobbed. "He said I shouldn't compete with his 'star student.' And on the day of the exam… the pens I brought, the ones Marina 'checked' for me… the ink vanished from the paper within an hour. I handed in a blank exam, Mom. I had nothing."

This wasn't just a rivalry. This was a calculated assassination of my daughter's future.

I didn't say another word. I stood up and stormed into Daisy’s original bedroom.