Page 22 of Forbidden Hearts

“They’re nice people,” Isabella continues. “Their art skills vary a lot, so there’s nothing to be intimidated about.”

“It’s not that,” I say. I’m about to tell her I’m not hungry, but my stomach growls before I can finish the sentence. “But you know what? Yeah, I’ll join you. I just need to speak with Professor Alvarez first.”

“Sure, no problem,” she smiles. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

When class ends, I lag behind until all the other students are gone. Alonzo looks at me from his desk as I approach me. It bothers me that I still can’t read his face.

“Thank you for the money,” I say.

His dark eyes scan mine. The way his eyes pierce into mine makes me feel like I’m once again standing half-naked before him. Before he can respond, I say something that has beensimmering behind my mind all morning but wasn’t sure I would say.

“But I can’t take the money,” I finish. A pit forms in my lower stomach as the words leave my mouth. The fifty grand could have been a life changer, but can I really enjoy it if my brain reminds me it’s blood money every time I use it?

“Why not?” he asks plainly.

Shit.Why not?

I wasn’t planning on rejecting the money, so I didn’t come up with an excuse for why I can’t accept it. And I definitely can’t tell him where I think the money comes from. If I did, he would know that Jacob told me about his former life in the mafia. He might suspect something.

“I can’t just take fifty grand from my college professor,” I say. “I don’t even know why you were in a place like that to begin with.”

His eyes darken. “I don’t understand whyyouwould be in a place like that.” There’s a tone of annoyance in his voice. “You like men watching you dance around in a bikini?”

His accusation strikes me with such a force that I take a step back. I work at The Den out of necessity, not because I enjoy having crusty middle-aged men hitting on me. The fact that Alonzo thinks I enjoy working there angers me, and without thinking, I shoot back.

“What do you care what I do outside of class? You’re just some random professor.”

His lips twitch. A second later, he’s on his feet, towering over me.

“You’re done working at The Den,” he says matter-of-factly. “You are fifty grand richer. There’s no need for you to return to that place.”

“Did you just hear me?” I raise my voice enough to make my point clear but quiet enough so Isabella, who I assume is still waiting for me in the hallway, can’t hear me. “I’mnottaking your money. I don’t know where it came from.”

He straightens his tie in silence.

Shit, did I just fuck up?

He licks his bottom lip. “Right. If you work at The Den, you probably know what Jacob and his men do on the side. You probably think I’m involved with them, right? You think my money is drug money? Well, it isn’t.”

Of course it’s not drug money. It’s murder money.

I guess I have doubt written all over my face because he continues, “If I prove the money is clean, will you keep it?”

“How will you prove that?” I ask. I’m not going to pretend I don’t know about the drugs that Jacob and the reapers peddle. It’s better if he believes I think his money is drug money and not mafia money.

“Meet me tonight. I’ll show you.”

“I work tonight,” I say.

He tightens his jaw. “No, you don’t. You have enough money to live off of,at leastuntil your graduation. Or do you need more money?”

More money?

“I haven’t agreed to take your money in the first place,” I remind him.

“Just give Jacob a bullshit excuse. Tell him you got sick or something. After tonight, I’m sure you’ll take the money and never return to that place.”

That’s exactly what I want.

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