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Now reading: Chapter 98: Mistake Begin from Living With My Yandere Professor, a Fantasy novel by SharkyMonster.

That evening, Andrew arrived at the luxurious Sapphire Hall. The grand ballroom was beautifully decorated, with live music, elegant guests, and a lively atmosphere. Elena was waiting for him near the entrance, looking stunning in a sophisticated dark red evening gown that perfectly complented her figure.

They found a relatively quiet corner and talked business for nearly thirty minutes. Elena asked detailed questions about Luna’s progress, user retention, and future roadmap. Andrew answered professionally, showing her the latest updates on his tablet.

After the discussion, the main function began. The lights dimd, and the music shifted to soft, romantic tunes. Couples started moving toward the dance floor.

Elena looked at Andrew for a mont, a faint hesitation in her eyes, before she spoke softly, "Would you like to dance with ?"

Andrew felt a wave of nervousness. After what happened last ti, he was wary. But refusing her directly felt rude, especially since she was his major sponsor.

He nodded. "Sure."

Elena smiled and took his hand, leading him onto the dance floor. As the slow music played, she stepped closer than necessary, pressing her body gently against his.

One hand rested on his shoulder while the other held his hand. Her movents were graceful and confident, but there was a clear intentional closeness, her chest occasionally brushing against him, her fingers lightly stroking the back of his hand.

Andrew felt increasingly weird and uncomfortable. His mind kept flashing back to Scarlett waiting at ho. Yet he didn’t want to create an awkward situation or offend his sponsor, so he continued dancing, trying to keep his movents natural.

Elena looked up at him with soft eyes, her voice low and warm as they swayed together.

"You’ve been working very hard lately," she murmured. "I’m really impressed."

Andrew gave a small, polite smile, but inside, his thoughts were in turmoil. The closeness, the soft lighting, and Elena’s elegant beauty made the mont dangerously intimate once again.

As the slow music gradually faded and the dance was coming to an end, Elena suddenly stopped moving.

She looked up at Andrew with soft, longing eyes. Before he could react, she rose on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

Andrew’s eyes widened in shock. For a split second, he froze. But the warmth of her lips and the gentle pressure made him unconsciously respond. He kissed her back, not passionately, but enough to accept the mont. The kiss lasted several seconds, soft and lingering, before Elena slowly pulled away.

Andrew’s heart was pounding. He liked the softness, the sweetness, the unexpected boldness, but imdiately felt a heavy wave of guilt. Scarlett’s face flashed clearly in his mind. He felt embarrassed, almost ashad.

Elena, on the other hand, looked genuinely happy. Her cheeks were lightly flushed, and a small, content smile played on her lips. She didn’t look tense or regretful at all. She simply gazed at him with warm affection.

The dance ended. They exchanged a few polite words, and Andrew quickly excused himself, saying he had to return ho.

---

When Andrew reached the apartnt, Scarlett was waiting for him on the sofa, wearing a loose silk nightgown. The mont he saw her, the guilt inside him surged. He needed to wash it away, to remind himself who he truly belonged to.

Without saying much, he walked straight to her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her deeply. Scarlett was surprised at first by his sudden intensity, but she quickly lted into the kiss, sensing sothing was off.

Andrew didn’t stop there. He lifted her up, carried her to the bedroom, and laid her on the bed. He removed her nightgown with urgent hands, then stripped off his own clothes. Within monts, he was on top of her, entering her with one deep thrust.

Scarlett gasped, wrapping her legs around him as he began moving, harder and more possessive than usual. Andrew buried his face in her neck, thrusting deeply as if trying to erase the mory of Elena’s kiss.

"Scarlett..." he groaned against her skin. "You’re mine..."

Scarlett moaned softly, holding him tighter, letting him take what he needed. Even though she sensed sothing was bothering him, she didn’t ask. She simply gave herself to him completely, stroking his back and whispering his na.

Andrew fucked her with intense passion that night, almost like he was trying to punish himself and claim her at the sa ti. They went at it twice, the second round slower but no less passionate, until both of them were exhausted and drenched in sweat.

Afterward, Andrew held Scarlett tightly in his arms, kissing her forehead repeatedly as they lay tangled together.

Scarlett gently stroked his hair, a small, knowing smile on her lips, but she said nothing about the strange intensity.

For now, the guilt was buried beneath the warmth of her body.

---

But this was only the beginning.

In the following weeks, Elena began calling Andrew for "etings" every few days. Sotis it was about Luna’s progress, sotis about marketing strategies, and sotis she simply said she wanted to discuss things in a more relaxed environnt.

Every single eting ended the sa way.

They would talk business for so ti, then the conversation would shift to sothing more personal.

Music would start playing, and Elena would invite him to dance. At first, Andrew felt extrely awkward and guilty. But as the etings continued, the guilt slowly began to dull. The dances grew longer, the closeness more intimate, and the kisses at the end beca a silent ritual.

At first, he told himself it was just a montary lapse. But he was young, healthy, and Elena was incredibly beautiful, elegant, and attentive.

The way she looked at him, the way she held him while dancing, the softness of her lips, it beca harder and harder to resist.

He started getting used to it.

He started liking it.

Every ti he returned ho from these etings, the guilt would hit him like a wave. To wash it away and ease his conscience, he would pull Scarlett into his arms the mont he saw her.

He beca more passionate, more hungry, almost desperate in his lovemaking. He would kiss her deeply, undress her quickly, and take her with intense need, sotis on the sofa, sotis carrying her straight to the bedroom.

Scarlett noticed the change.

She didn’t know the reason, but she welcod it wholeheartedly. Andrew had beco much more assertive and affectionate at night.

He would hold her tighter, kiss her longer, and make love to her with a passion that left her breathless and satisfied. She simply assud the success of Luna and his growing confidence were making him more bold.

She was happy. Extrely happy.

Sotis, after they finished, she would lie in his arms, gently stroking his chest with a soft, content smile.

"You’ve beco so energetic lately," she would murmur teasingly, kissing his jaw. "I like this side of you."

Andrew would only hug her tighter, burying his face in her neck, trying to drown out the mory of Elena’s lips with Scarlett’s warmth.

He knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew he was playing with fire.

But every few days, when Elena called again, he would still go.

And every ti he ca back, he would lose himself in Scarlett, as if trying to prove to himself that she was still the only one who truly mattered.

The days continued like this, a dangerous balance between two won, two very different kinds of desire, and Andrew caught in the middle, slowly sinking deeper into the secret he was keeping.

One day, Elena called Andrew in the afternoon.

"Andrew," her voice was soft and warm through the phone, "I’ve been thinking about you. Would you like to have dinner with this evening? Just the two of us. There’s a beautiful lakeside café I think you’d like."

Andrew was caught off guard by how direct she was. There was no ntion of business or Luna this ti. It was clearly a personal invitation.

After a brief hesitation, he agreed.

That evening, he arrived at the elegant lakeside café. The place had a romantic ambiance, soft lighting, wooden decor, and a stunning view of the calm lake reflecting the colors of the sunset.

Elena was already waiting for him at a private table near the window. She looked beautiful in a simple yet stylish cream-colored dress that gently hugged her figure. Her long chestnut hair was loosely tied, and she greeted him with a warm, genuine smile as he approached.

"Thank you for coming," she said softly, sounding pleased.

They ordered food, grilled fish for Elena and pasta for Andrew, and the conversation flowed naturally. At first, they talked about general things, but as the sky darkened and the lake lights turned on, the discussion beca more personal.

Elena spoke about her life, how she had built her company while raising Lucy alone, the pressures she faced, and how rare it was to et soone who made her feel comfortable and excited at the sa ti.

Andrew listened attentively. He found himself opening up as well, sharing bits about his dreams and struggles. The conversation felt easy and genuine.

As the night deepened, they took a short walk along the lakeside path. The air was cool, and the lights from the café reflected beautifully on the water. Elena walked close to him, their arms occasionally brushing.

She stopped near the railing, looking out at the lake.

"I haven’t felt this relaxed in years," she admitted quietly. "Thank you for coming tonight, Andrew."

He nodded, feeling a mix of comfort and nervousness. The mont felt intimate.

Elena turned to him with a gentle smile.

"Shall we do this again soti? Just the two of us?"

Andrew paused, then gave a small nod.

"Sure."

They parted ways that night with a warm goodbye. Elena looked genuinely happy as she got into her car.

On the way ho, Andrew felt conflicted. The evening had been pleasant, perhaps too pleasant. Elena’s company was easy, intelligent, and comforting in a way he hadn’t expected.

When he reached the apartnt, Scarlett was waiting for him. The mont he saw her, the familiar warmth and guilt returned. He pulled her into a hug, holding her a little tighter than usual, trying to remind himself where he truly belonged.

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