BEHIND CLOSED DOORS | 18+ |✔

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c h a p t e r    o n e 

A pair of blue eyes stared back with such a judging look which would make anyone question their life choices. And they did so, making Antonia think if she was ever going to impress the Queen's authority with that appearance.  

Her family had always been one of the supporting kind, telling her every day how beautiful she looked with that tanned olive skin, brown curly hair and her captivating blue eyes. However, that was when she was a carefree teenager living in a small town in Spain, with no worries about getting a chance to be a professor in one of Britain's most famous universities. Now, as she stood in front of the mirror criticizing the wild curly locks cascading down her shoulders and back, not looking like a prim and proper lady but more of a nomad, she cursed out loud. 

They will hire me because of my qualifications, not for my looks dammit! She thought to herself and looked at the clock. It was five minutes past eight in the morning on the 14th of April, Wednesday, hardly an hour left for the interview and here she was, grumbling about her hair. She sighed and brought her eyes back to the mirror, glaring back at the woman behind it. 

If anything Antonia was sure of today, it was her choice of clothes. Dressed in a black and white polka-dotted dress shirt and a jet black pencil skirt, she looked as close to a well-mannered lady as she could get. Her long brown curly hair flowed down her back and over her chest, and she contemplated tying it up in a ponytail but decided against it. Antonia had never liked make-up but a little bit would not hurt, so all that she had applied was a little bit of plum-coloured lipstick and winged eyeliner. Just to add to her self-respect and her height, she wore black pump-heels, which impressively increased her stature from five-foot-four to a good five-foot-ten. And, she was ready to go, that is what she told herself before snatching the keys to her flat and dashing out of the door. 

:::

It was around ten minutes to nine when she reached the gates of Queen's Academy. She hurriedly paid the cab-driver and descended from the vehicle, running towards the gatemen and almost stumbling over and breaking her ankle in the process. 

The Queen's Academy, London, was a heritage to the United Kingdom. It's construction dated back as far as the seventeenth century and since then, it has been making outstanding and brilliant students in all fields of life. From billionaires to well-established doctors, lawyers to professors of universities around the world, from renowned scientists to famous actors, there is not a profession in which students from this university have not excelled. Crowned as one of Britain's best, most famous and most prominent universities, the Queen's has even made its place among the top ten most sought after universities in the world. As Antonia was guided through the gates and into the premises of this famed place, she could feel the aura of brilliance and supremacy which seemed to be mingled with the air itself. She took a deep breath and followed the guard, who was so tall and well-built that Antonia could have mistaken him for a Royal Guard. 

The university was constructed over a vast area, and at first look, it would seem to compete with the very expanse of the oceans. The place had been renovated, but it still had the gothic structures, with an enormous clock tower attached to the main building at the far end. Antonia gaped at the sand-coloured walls of the buildings with red rooftops, as they stood proudly against the sky and across the massive and lush green field, at the centre of which stood a statue of a Roman deity whose name Antonia could not quite remember then. 

Will I really be working here? She thought as she walked down the endless corridors and long, tiled paths inside the buildings. The inside was as luxurious as the outside, with paintings and intricate designs over the walls and even the ceilings. She gulped repeatedly but quietly followed the scary guard, and by his stoic face, she deduced he definitely would not appreciate a conversation. Still, she put on her sweetest smile and asked, 

"Are we there yet?" 

The guard stopped abruptly and Antonia bumped into his back. She quickly composed herself and tiptoed backwards to put a safe distance between her and the guard, who slowly turned around and fixed her with a frozen look. Antonia's breath left her lungs as she tried to speak.

"I'm sorry, am I not allowed to speak to the guards? I had no idea-" 

"This is your destination. The Chancellor's office." the guard cut her off ruthlessly and rotated his head ever so slowly, gazing straight at the door in front of him. Antonia followed his gaze and her lips parted as she whispered the name on the door-plate. 

Professor Rhys Clyde                                                                                                                                                            Chancellor 

"Oh, I guess this is it then, thank you." she scratched the side of her head, not making eye contact with the still man who was still staring at the door. Unsure of what to do, she took a few cautious steps and stood directly in front of him, fixing her eyes on his throat. Even with her heels, the guard was taller and she had to crane her head up a bit to meet his proud chin. 

"Thank you, Mr....erm...guard." she attempted to smile again, careful this time. 

In response, the guard turned his whole body away from her, and stomped away, his footsteps strong and loud as if they were slapping the floor. Antonia stood fixed to the ground, trying not to feel embarrassed, but she could feel the heat engulf her cheeks and ears. If everyone working here was an asshole like the guard, she was going to have a lot of problems. 

Shaking away the negative thoughts and attempting to smile again, this time a more professional one, she turned around on her toes and came face-to-face with the nameplate again. All of a sudden, she remembered that she had forgotten to search about the Chancellor. Mentally slapping herself, she raised her hand to knock at the door but stopped a centimetre away from it. She did not know what the Chancellor was like, nothing about him, so she pictured her own Chancellor inside her head. An old man, bald, with a fancy walking stick and a "do-anything-wrong-and-I-kick-you-out" expression pasted on his face, sounded just about right. 

Satisfied and kind of grossed out by the image inside her head, she knocked at the door. Once. There was utter silence on the other side. She checked her watch, it showed that it was one minute past nine. Surely that will not be considered as 'late'? Surely? 

What seemed like an eternity passed before she heard a voice saying, 

"Come in, Antonia." 

That was certainly not the voice of an old, bald man with a fancy walking stick. It was someone younger, and she cursed herself silently for loving the way he said her name. Not Miss Rodriguez or anything, he said her name. The voice was deep, baritone and husky at the same time which showed that its owner was accustomed to talk and be heard. Also, it held such dominance....let's just say Antonia had not heard such a voice in a long time.

Her fingers brushed over the doorknob, as she slowly turned it, and then pushed it. She felt her heart hammering in her ribcage, as she opened the door and peeped into the room. 

When she saw him, her jaw dropped a bit. Her hand stayed at the doorknob as she stood at the threshold, gazing intently at the person seated in front of her, behind his desk, leaning back in the black revolving chair and gazing at her with a very professional smile on his face. 

"Take a seat, Antonia." he waved his hand at the chair in front of him. Antonia nodded and closed the door behind her. 

"Professor Rhys Clyde. I've been waiting for you." he spoke once Antonia had taken the seat, and he leaned over, resting his elbows on the desk. Antonia kept staring at her entwined hands on her lap, not looking up. She did know why, but there was something oddly powerful about this man that gave her this funny feeling in the stomach. 

"When I speak to someone, I expect them to look at me. Look up." Professor Clyde said, and Antonia looked up immediately, ignoring the weird clench inside her stomach at his voice. It had turned a tad bit huskier and ...maybe Antonia had just imagined it, but there was a touch of restrain in his words. 

"Good, now then, we shall begin." He declared and all that Antonia could manage was a feeble nod.

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