Trapped By My Possessive Billionaire Ex

Keeley pushed open the heavy oak doors of the computer science lecture hall.

The extreme air conditioning of the room hit her bare arms like a wall of ice. A layer of goosebumps instantly erupted across her skin.

She looked down at her thin summer chiffon blouse, silently cursing her senior, Emilee, for bailing on this errand at the last minute.

Clutching the project proposal tightly against her chest, Keeley walked quickly down the tiered aisle toward the VIP seats in the front row.

Her eyes scanned over the rows of seated students and landed on the man sitting in the center guest seat, surrounded by faculty members like a king holding court.

When she saw the sharp, cold profile of his face, Keeley's footsteps jerked to a violent halt.

Her heart felt like it was grabbed by an invisible hand. It squeezed so hard she skipped a massive beat. Her lungs forgot how to process oxygen.

Holland.

Holland Klein.

As if sensing the sudden shift in the air, Holland slowly turned his head away from the professor speaking to him.

Their eyes met. His gaze, dark and deep as an abyss, locked onto her instantly.

A wave of intense suffocation washed over Keeley. Her muscles screamed at her to turn around and run out of the hall.

Professor Alistair noticed her standing frozen in the aisle. He leaned into his microphone and urged her to bring the documents forward, adding with a warm smile, "Ah, perfect timing. Class, please welcome our special guest and this semester's new Guest Teaching Assistant for Advanced Algorithms, Mr. Holland Klein."

Hundreds of eyes in the hall turned to look at her all at once. Her escape route was completely cut off.

Keeley bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. She forced her stiff legs to move, walking toward the man she had successfully hidden from for four entire years.

She reached the conference table. Her hands were shaking slightly as she extended the proposal toward the professor.

Suddenly, Holland reached out with his large, long-fingered hand and intercepted the document mid-air.

As he pulled the paper away, his fingertips dragged heavily and deliberately across the back of Keeley's freezing hand.

Keeley flinched like she had been electrocuted. She snatched her hand back, a flash of pure terror and resistance in her eyes.

The overhead AC vent was blowing directly onto her. The cold air, combined with the shock of his touch, made Keeley shiver visibly. Her shoulders hunched inward.

Holland stopped flipping through the proposal. His dark eyes lowered, staring intently at her trembling shoulders.

A second later, Holland pushed back his heavy leather chair and stood up.

His six-foot-three frame cast a highly oppressive shadow over her. The entire hall fell dead silent.

Under the shocked stares of everyone in the room, Holland took off his five-figure Savile Row bespoke suit jacket.

He stepped around the table with his long legs and walked straight up to Keeley.

The aggressive male pheromones mixed with his signature cold cedarwood cologne completely surrounded her.

With a forceful and undeniable motion, Holland draped the oversized suit jacket over Keeley's thin shoulders.

Keeley's body went completely rigid. Her instinct was to shake off the garment that still carried his body heat.

But Holland's large hands clamped down on her shoulders like iron vices. He leaned in slightly, his mouth hovering just inches from her ear.

"Don't move," he commanded in a low, dark voice that only she could hear. It was dripping with absolute control.

From the back row, Keeley could practically feel the venomous glare of Emilee boring into her spine. A sharp crack echoed faintly-the sound of cheap plastic snapping under immense pressure as her senior undoubtedly realized her catastrophic mistake in skipping out on this errand.

Keeley was forced to clutch the lapels of the massive jacket. Surrounded by the collective gasps of the audience, she had nowhere to run.