Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
CADEN
Past
“For God’s sake, Caden, exercise some patience for the first time in your life. It’s a virtue for a reason.” My twin, Damon, stared me down with exasperation.
“Consider me virtue deficient,” I muttered, leaning against the steel lab counter.
“If you just give the students a chance, things might work out in your favor.” Damon punctuated the air with a finger pointed in my direction. “The university won’t let you keep this lab if you refuse.”
I arched an eyebrow, arms folded across my chest. “They aren’t in the position to make demands of me. Last time I checked, I’m the one bringing in millions of dollars in donations with my work.”
“Which can move a hell of a lot faster if you let students assist you,” Damon shot back.
“They won’t survive a week in my lab.”
“They might if you exercise some patience and take the time to teach them,” he countered, his hands splayed wide as if presenting an obvious solution.
“They’re too incompetent,” I replied dismissively.
“That’s the same excuse you used when the university asked you to hire a lab manager.”
“I’m just waiting to find a qualified candidate.”
“Except you never think anyone’s qualified.”
“It’s not my fault that most people are dimwitted.”
Damon shifted uncomfortably. “Come on, man. You’re this close,” he pinched his fingers nearly together, “to finding something that could change millions of lives. Our mother?—”
“Don’t,” I drawled out the warning.
I hated it when people mentioned my mother, even if the person doing so was her other son. She was weak and didn’t care about anything other than her next fix until she succumbed to her addiction.
“Fine,” Damon conceded. He dropped his voice and whispered, “But just think what a team of minions could accomplish under your guidance. They’re eager to learn from the great Professor Maxwell.”
I scoffed and turned away to refocus on the maze of notations and equations on the various whiteboards. Flattery would get him nowhere.
My papers on revolutionary non-addictive pain medication had generated buzz within the scientific community.
I needed a reputable lab to conduct my research, and the best equipment existed at NewTech University, things money couldn’t buy and could only be sourced or built.
The work required ongoing experiments and a large team.
However, before signing a contract with NewTech, I stipulated doing all the hiring.
I was particular about my assistants and thoroughly vetted each candidate.
The asshole board members of NewTech insisted my hiring process was too slow and wanted me to solidify the formula for the drug before another lab picked up the project.
They went over my head, claiming the contract stated nothing about free help, and they had selected the top students in the chemistry department to become unpaid assistants.
I had to teach a class in exchange for help I didn’t want.
Absolute waste of time.
The students on campus were rich and entitled. They could barely survive dormitory life without their personal chefs and didn’t know how to do a hard day’s work. They were unteachable, and I didn’t want them destroying my lab.
When I refused to follow the university’s arbitrary process, they called in the big guns—Damon. He glanced at the table in front of us. The surface was covered with lab equipment and notes scribbled in handwriting that only I could decipher.
A touch of concern was laced in his voice when he spoke again.
“You’re working yourself to death. Just think about it.
You’ll have fifty of the best students at your disposal, they’ll receive lab credit in exchange for their help, your TA will do the grading, and you’ll be on track for tenure. This is a win-win from every angle.”
I said nothing.
Damon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have a choice, Caden. Either teach the class or lose your position.”
Regretfully, he was right. I had to cave if I didn’t want the last few years of my research going down the drain. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t put up a good fight. “They’ll compromise the research.”
Damon threw his hands up and stated the obvious. “You can’t exactly stay on as a professor if you refuse to teach students.”
“But they are such unteachable idiots.” Maybe I sounded petulant, but why must I interact with inferior creatures?
NewTech University housed rich kids whose nannies never told them no.
Half of the female students ogled me or hit on me, and most of the male students thought dropping their last names would guarantee them a good grade.
It boiled my blood, especially since I was financially and intellectually superior to them.
Damon slanted his head uncomfortably. “Stop calling them names,” he hissed, his expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment.
“I’m just calling it as it is. I could teach monkeys faster than these incompetent brats.” I thought about my statement for a moment. “If I’m being honest, that comparison is an insult to monkeys.”
“Um… Excuse me, Professor.” The interruption echoed off the lab walls. The voice sounded indignant, as if they had every right to breathe the same air as me. “Can you please stop talking about us like we aren’t here? Also, we have names and prefer not to be called lower primates.”
I gritted my teeth while Damon tried to suppress his laughter. Forcing my eyes away from my twin, I glanced at the brunette who had phrased the question, along with the rest of the class—the aforementioned students and the banes of my existence.
“You’re refusing to teach us without knowing anything about us,” the brunette continued, her bravado rising when a few other students nodded in agreement. “If you give us a chance, you’ll see we are not so incompetent.”
A sea of young faces stared at me, their lips pressed tightly to contain the fear of my retaliation.
As much as I tried to forget their existence, they were incessantly present like pests.
They had been sitting at their desks for the last fifteen minutes watching me argue with my brother, their eyes bouncing between us.
They were the other reason Damon came down to the university.
Yesterday was the first day of classes, and I chased them away when I found them in my lab.
I should’ve known they wouldn’t be easily dissuaded.
The university offered them six credits—instead of the usual three—to entice them into signing up for my class.
They complained to the administrators when I refused to teach, unaware this curriculum was too advanced for their feeble minds.
I raised an eyebrow at the brunette. “If you don’t like how I conduct myself, there’s the door,” I suggested, opening my arm toward the exit, my tone flat.
If possible, she appeared more indignant than before. She sat amid three of her peers, her notebook open and ready to take notes on a lecture I would never give.
But it was the person beside her who grabbed my attention. Eyes timid and tinged with apprehensiveness, she glanced at me, then quickly looked away.
Rose Ambani?
I turned to Damon and raised a brow, patiently awaiting an explanation.
“It was the other thing I needed to discuss with you,” he muttered. “I found out that Rose enrolled in your class.”
Few things in life surprised me, and this was one of them.
My family loathed hers. The Ambanis owned an investment firm, just like us.
The business rivalry between these two companies had spiraled into personal attacks and grievances over the years.
It didn’t help that both families were legacies at this university, and the campus was plagued with them.
I had never paid attention to the notoriously shy member of the Ambani clan, but Rose had suddenly piqued my interest.
Why would she sign up for a class taught by me?
I wasn’t involved in the feud, and as far as I knew, Rose was neutral. She was even friendly with Damon. While coexisting wasn’t a problem for me, accepting an Ambani as a student was a step too far and a mortal sin where my father was concerned. I didn’t need him breathing down my neck, too.
“I’m not here to field our family drama,” I replied bitingly. “Get rid of her. Not interested in whatever she’s playing at.”
He shot me a warning look, the corner of his mouth turning into a frown. “Rose isn’t like the rest of them, and I doubt she has ulterior motives for taking your class. Do me a favor and play nice. I don’t need more drama with her family,” he whispered.
More like he didn’t want drama with a specific member of her family. Damon didn’t fuel this feud because he was interested in Rose’s cousin, Poppy, though he would never admit it out loud. “How’s that my problem?”
“The bad blood’s affecting my business.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Your business or personal life?”
He pretended not to notice the jab. “It’s gotten to the point where clients are avoiding both companies.”
Damon and I owned a fair share of our family business, but he was the one who ran the day-to-day operations and became the co-CEO alongside my uncle.
The job—and the girl—meant something to him.
I may not care about the students, but I didn’t want to give Rose ammunition to impact my brother negatively.
“Fine,” I conceded sullenly.
His shoulders visibly sagged. “Thank you. And do me one more favor. Let the students stay.”
I groaned out loud.
“Need I remind you, no teaching, no lab? It’s not so bad to mold young minds.” His tone held a hint of amusement that fed my annoyance. “They might surprise you.”
“Your optimism is delusional.” I spat out the word as if it tasted sour.
Damon pushed off from the counter with a huff. “We both know you don’t have a choice in this matter.”
I glared at the fucker, who seemed to take immense pleasure in my misery.
With a toothy grin, he moved toward the door. “I’ll see you later. Oh, and try not to scare Rose away,” he reminded me.
I stared at his back with a steely gaze as the traitor left me to face the roomful of enemies. The notion of sharing my carefully curated laboratory with these novices was grating on my last nerve. My gaze swept over the crowd of students sitting upright, awaiting my instructions.
Unwillingly, my eyes returned to the shy Rose Ambani, who still couldn’t find the courage to look at me.
She was a small thing, easily lost among the rows of students, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.
She looked like fucking Bambi with long lashes framing her brown doe eyes.
On second thought, her smooth caramel skin and generous pink lips made her look like a doll.
Though her most prominent feature was the long, chocolate-colored hair that overtook everything else.
Clearing my throat, I glanced away. “Okay, then,” I started, reclaiming the silence with the sharpness of my voice. “Since I can’t discourage you from taking this lab, who’s ready for a pop quiz?”
The eager faces fell simultaneously. It was the first thing today that brought a smile to my face.