Sinful

ARABELLA

I’ve no clue where the toilets are, but I assume they’re through another door at the far end of the hallway. I huff as I walk, but every step away from the main room brings me closer to confusion. Why did I walk out? Why was I angry?

Seeing Romain talking to Zane like nothing happened brought it all back. Romain doesn’t care about me. He’s still thinking with his dick, and I’ve been letting him. Even though the pranks have stopped, I still don’t know where Ravenclaw is, and Zane is just walking around carefree. A coldness settles over my limbs at that. This whole thing is spiraling, getting out of control. He said we were dating. Do we even have a future together?

Of course, we don’t. This whole relationship, if you can call it that, is a ticking time bomb. And coming here to his family gathering was a mistake. I know that now. The worst is, I have no clue how to walk away from all this, or if I even can.

I need to tell him.

I tell myself over and over as I’m splashing water on my face in the most opulent-looking bathroom I’ve ever been in—gold gilded mirrors with velvet seating line one of the walls and marbled hand basins on the other. Huge vases filled with flowers adorn the spaces between the mirrors. So this is what a powder room looks like?

Breathing deeply, feeling my heart settle a little bit. I’m still freezing, but that could be the alcohol or the lack of heating in this damn fortress. I give myself one last look in the glass, fixing the tape that’s keeping my entire dress from falling off.

I’m going to tell him.

The door swings open, and Zane walks in, smiling, eyes flashing with dark delight when he sees me.

“Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking for you, little pet,” he smirks, blocking the exit.

I turn around, hands gripping the sink counter, chest tight all of a sudden. “Get out of my way, Zane.”

He takes a step. “Or you’ll what? Report me? I think you lost that right when you started spreading your legs for your students.”

I take a step sideways, eyeing the door at the far end.

He follows my gaze. “That doesn’t go anywhere if you’re thinking of making a run for it.”

“What do you want?” I say, voice firm and not shaky like my limbs feel.

“I want what Romain has. And I must say, you look fucking tasty in that dress, Teach.”

I glower at him. “Let me go, and I won’t tell Romain.”

He shrugs, taking a few more steps, an evil grin plastered on his face. “I don’t give a fuck about Romain. But I tell you what, you give me what I want, and I’ll keep my mouth shut to the school board.”

My pulse races, threatening to burn my veins up if I don’t escape. I back away until there’s nowhere to go. “Please, Zane. Let me go.”

He lunges for me, and I don’t stand a chance. He’s too big, too powerful to fight. He tries to kiss me until I bite back, but he just laughs, slamming my head into the side of the wall, making my vision swim and my skull feel like it’s about to explode. I scratch, bite, and claw at him as he rips my dress. And as the cold air hits me, he drags me out of the powder room and down the hall.

The larger room he dumps me in the middle of stinks of cigars and is filled with a full-sized pool table. My head pounds, and my throat feels like glass. Hayden’s face fills my view as I look up. Zane is next to him. Hayden’s dark eyes and salt and pepper hair contrast with Zane’s black locks and blue orbs. They look at me like I’m trash as I try to cover myself up.

“Ah, there’s the little whore who’s got her claws into my son,” Hayden says.

“Bastard,” I spit. “What do you want?”

He smiles, eyes dead inside. I recoil when he comes over and yanks my chin up to look at him, fingering the name tag at my throat. The resemblance to Romain is almost too much. Except for his eyes. His eyes are cold and empty. “Bella.”

“Let go of me.” I pant, trying to jerk away.

“Oh, I will, just as soon as you agree to remove those claws and fuck off back to whatever trash town you are from.” He cocks his head, releasing my jaw, and takes out his checkbook and pen. “How much would it take? Ten thousand?”

I shake my head. “You can’t pay me off.”

“Twenty?”

“Screw you.”

He sighs, scribbling on the check, and then he tears it off and all but throws it to me. “Either you take the money and disappear, or I’ll tell the board of my son’s school all about you and the students.” He walks over to his coat and takes out my journal, placing it on the snooker table. He must have taken it that night when I was at Helen’s.