1 - Law Of Attraction
LUNA
The Earth’s rotational velocity must have abruptly dropped to zero.
His eyes bore into mine. Eyes like venom, captivating, attractive, alluring yet lethal and utterly dangerous. Like a color stolen from freshly bloomed ivy, like dew-kissed moss on a forest floor.
His composure does so little to match the glaring intensity in his eyes. His hands are relaxed and his chest shows no sign of breathing or better, life. If his eyes weren’t open and his tongue didn’t slightly dart out to wet his bottom lip, he could pass for the dead.
Sitting around the large conference desk is the Dean of the physics faculty, the top faculty advisors and my fellow professors. The item of the day? One that I never expected. One that I never thought of. And I do a lot of thinking on an average day.
“I am here for the graduate program in physics.” The man says, his lips spreading in a slight smirk and he crosses his arms across his chest. His three piece suit hugs his muscular frame, and an aura of arrogance surrounds him.
“I applied just like everyone else.” He crosses his legs—on the conference table.
I relax in my seat, and I see my fellow professors exchanging glances amongst themselves. I can see the questions in their eyes and I can hear it in their murmurs.
Why is he here?
Should he be here?
Is he lost?
Has he really been a student?
“Is there a problem with that?” He asks. His eyes finally leave mine, and they focus on the Dean. Only for a split second, then his eyes are back to me. The intensity of his stare is back, and I feel exposed, almost as if he never looked away.
I am pinned to my seat by his gaze once again, and I force myself to stay still. He has so much effect on the people around this table, and I refuse to let him have that effect on me.
Sitting across from me with his legs crossed—on the conference table is Forbes most successful billionaire of the year, Ares Wilder, CEO of Wilder Group.
The Ares Wilder. The Russian American. The myth, the legend and now, the six feet reality seated with us.
This is not a dream. I have blinked severally ever since he walked in here, daring him to disappear, daring him to not take up such amount of space here. But he has refused to vanish, as he is seated here, now, and he wouldn’t stop looking at me.
For the first time since he walked in, I shift uncomfortably in my seat. His eyes rake all over my body, watching and weighing my movements. His eyes never leave me, and I’m forced to wonder if I’ve grown a second head, or perhaps an embarrassing mole on my face.
“No, sir.” The Dean, Morgan Kane answers, his voice shaky and slightly unsteady.
And for obvious reasons. Ares Wilder owns half of Chicago, with his businesses constructed as tall buildings all over the city. He is neck deep with the government and owns shares in every company, big and small.
One call from him against you, and you wouldn’t be able to work anywhere in Chicago. One harsh word from him about you, and he might have as well taken your ability to breath freely.
Ares Wilder is a feared businessman. So you can understand why the physics department is in a state of unease and discomfort, with his presence.
It was a wonderful day. Student after student came in, and got introduced to their thesis advisors. What we didn’t expect was Ares Wilder—here as a student.
“I have a petition to make.” He speaks, his voice dipped in sin and arrogance. His eyes dart away from me slightly, and they focus on the Dean, who looks like he might disintegrate under the weight of his gaze.
The Dean attempts to speak up, but Wilder beats him to it.
“In exchange I would donate two million dollars to the physics faculty.” He says.
Hushed voices echo across the conference room. Two million dollars. A huge amount of money that would solve all the present issues in our faculty. It could very well settle them all, and the faculty will still have dollar bills to spare.
But what does a notorious businessman gain from investing in a physics faculty?
The Dean clears his throat, adjusting his tie which seems to be suffocating him. “What is your petition, Sir?”
Those jaded eyes leave the Dean and are focused on me once again. I’m tempted to shift in my seat, but I don’t. I return the intensity in his eyes with mine and this time, I dare him to look away. An intrigued smirk spreads on his lips as he speaks,
“I would like Dr. Carter to be my thesis advisor.”
