Chapter Nine.

Kayla had been at home, mindlessly scrolling through her phone, when she first heard the voice. It was faint, almost like a whisper.

"Hello."

She froze, glancing around the empty room. Was she losing it? Maybe the late nights and constant stress were finally getting to her. Shaking her head, she went back to her phone. But then, it came again, louder this time.

"Hello."

Kayla's heart raced as she looked around her living room, eyes darting from corner to corner. It was just her, right? The voice hadn't come from inside her head, but she couldn't place where it had come from either. Then her gaze fell back to her phone.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her pulse quickening.

There was a brief pause before the voice responded, calm and almost too polite.

"Hello. I'm Harry."

She stared at the screen in disbelief. Harry? The absurdity of the situation nearly made her laugh. This had Oliver's name written all over it.

"Harry… as in Harry Potter?" she asked, incredulous. "Who programmed you?"

"I was programmed by Oliver Wilde to remind you of your punishment."

Kayla's hand instinctively clenched around the phone, her nails digging into her palm. The nerve of that guy. Oliver Wilde was relentless—smart, sure, but an insufferable prick. She had half a mind to fling her phone across the room.

"Thank you, Harry," she said through gritted teeth, sarcasm dripping from her words.

"You are welcome."

Great. Now her phone had a personality, and it belonged to Oliver Wilde. Her head was spinning. Kayla immediately tried to think of a solution. Call him. No, that would just encourage him. She sighed in frustration and then remembered Rory. Maybe she could help. Kayla quickly scrolled through her contacts and dialed Rory's number, but after a few rings, the call went to voicemail.

Her stomach knotted. Rory's phone was unreachable, and knowing how protective Daniel was of her, that was not a situation she wanted to bring up. Rory disappearing off the radar was a "can of worms" she wasn't prepared to open. Still, she needed Oliver's number, and Daniel was her only other option.

Sighing, Kayla dialed Daniel's number and braced herself. The call connected after a single ring.

"Hello. This is Kayla Hastings. Rory's friend," she said, trying her best to sound casual, though her stomach twisted in knots.

"I know," came Daniel's calm, clipped voice. Even through the phone, the iciness of his tone made her shiver. Did this guy ever relax? His voice was like steel, and suddenly Kayla regretted making the call.

"I hope this isn't a bad time, but I need Oliver's number," she continued awkwardly, hoping he wouldn't ask for details. She wasn't ready for a lengthy conversation with someone so cold.

To her surprise, Daniel didn't even hesitate. "Okay."

Before she could respond, the line went dead. She shivered. Never again. Talking to Daniel was like walking on shards of ice—sharp and unpredictable.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling, she quickly dialed Oliver. The phone rang twice before he picked up. She could hear the hum of an engine in the background, likely from his private jet.

"Hello, asshole!" Kayla spat out before she could stop herself.

On the other end of the line, Oliver chuckled, his voice rich with amusement. "You already miss me, Hastings?"

Kayla nearly groaned out loud. "Miss you? Are you kidding me?" She snapped. "Disengage the AI freak you built on my phone!"

"No."

"What do you mean, no? You created a program that works on my phone without my permission! Are you sure you built it to remind me of something and not to spy on me?"

Oliver's chuckle deepened, and she could practically see the smirk on his face through the phone. "Not everyone has stalker genes like you, Hastings."

On his side of the call, the soft voice of a flight attendant broke through the noise. "Sir, we're about to take off." But Oliver simply lifted a finger, signaling her to wait.

Kayla forced a laugh, but there was no humor behind it. "What else did you do? Plant cameras around my house?"

"That's actually a better idea," Oliver said his tone light and teasing. "Thanks for the suggestion."

Kayla rolled her eyes. Of course, he'd find that funny.

"I swear, I'll report you to the police for breaking and entering!" she threatened, though she instantly regretted it.

Oliver's voice dripped with amusement. "Breaking and entering your phone?" He laughed again, making her realize how ridiculous she sounded. "Good luck with that."

Kayla stomped her foot in frustration. "Argh! Just remove it!"

"Have fun with Harry. I'm about to take off. Bye!" Oliver's voice was infuriatingly nonchalant.

"Wait, no, no, remove the—" But before she could finish her sentence, the call ended abruptly.

"OLIVER!" she yelled at the top of her lungs as if he could still hear her through the disconnected line. She stood there, fuming, her phone clutched in her hand, her mind racing with ways to get back at him. The nerve of that man!

And then, from her phone, she heard it again. That polite, infuriating voice.

"Hello, I'm Harry. How can I assist you?"

Kayla groaned, staring down at the screen with a mix of anger and disbelief. This was going to be a long day.

It appears that annoying Kayla Hastings was his new favorite thing to do. There was something about the way her eyes twitched when she was losing it. The way her brows furrowed when she was laser focused and how her eyes never seemed to land when she was nervous.

What more was there to her? He wanted to know so he could use them against her and frustrate her to death. That's what she deserved for eclipsing his mind, for making him think about her even in his weakest moments, and for making him lose the control he had mastered for years.

She was the bane of his existence. She got under his skin too easily, too fast and the last person who did that was dead. The last person who had such power over him abused it. Abused him. So he needed to be cautious. He needed to always hold the reins and stay behind the line. He was her professor and she was his student.