Page 28 of The Forbidden Note

The rest of the class falls silent, watching our exchange keenly.

I walk behind my desk and lift my tablet. “Romeo and Juliet are teenagers in the original poem. They made the choices they did because they were young and foolish. When you’re older, when you have more experience, you realize there is no love that’s worth losing everything.”

Maisy pushes her glasses up her nose. “I agree. If it hurts, if it’s difficult, if it makes you want to die, then that’s not love.”

Heads bob in agreement.

“Who says?” Zane twirls his drumsticks. “What if the pain makes the pleasure even sweeter? What if denying yourself is worse than death?”

I can’t help the way my breath catches and my hands shake.

Blinking rapidly, I lift my tablet to cover the way my heart thunders. “Everyone, open your books. Maisy, please start from page 56.”

I finish the lecture with Zane’s stare drilling into me the entire time.

The musical bells chime.

“Your assignments will be in the school app,” I say. “And Mr. Cross…”

Everyone freezes when I call Zane’s name.

“Can I see you for a moment?”

The way I end the question makes it sound like a demand, not a request.

Zane observes me thoughtfully, eyes stripping me apart. I glare back, unable to slip under a guise of professionalism.

Students file past, giving us curious looks.

“Later, Miss Jamieson.” Maisy waves.

I nod.

As the students leave, Zane saunters behind them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” My voice is sharp.

Zane’s shoulder muscles go tense, but he doesn’t stop walking. I’m shocked when he closes the door, locks it and lowers the blinds on the glass pane.

My heart thunders. “Keep the door open.”

Zane turns. A flash of frustration filters through his gaze before he covers it with a practiced smirk. “I’d rather you yell at me in private.”

“We can’t do anything in private,” I snap. “Open the door.”

“No.”

“Zane.”

“You have no idea how often I’ve imagined this. You… asking to see me after class.” He prowls toward my desk, moving like a predator on his prey. “You’re getting me excited, tiger.”

I stiffen. “Don’t call me that.”

Zane stalks closer. With that violet-black hair and black T-shirt, every step he takes seems to gather the shadows. His military boots thump the ground. He’s a brutally gorgeous commander, except his army is the darkness hidden within the human heart.

The cruel twist of his lips makes me jumpy.

Between the brothers, Zane is the one more likely to smile and joke around, but he’s no less dangerous. No less powerful.

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