Page 183 of Heartless Sinner

She opened the door halfway before glancing back at me. “Do you really want to be questioned by the Sons? That’s fucking terrifying.”

“I will if it means Brooks won’t die.”

A smile played at her lips. “There was a time when you wanted him to die.”

She was right. Or at least, there’d been a time I pretended to.

If they killed Brooks for this, I’d no longer have to put up with his bullying. His bossiness. I’d no longer be his Fawn.

But a life without Brooks didn’t sound like much of a life at all.

I gave Blair a really? look.

She waggled her finger at me. “I always knew you were lying. You’ve been in L-O-V-E with that man for years.” She sighed dramatically. “I love it when a Night Son love story comes together.”

I did what Brooks had told me and went to class.

Of all my classes, it had to be Women’s Studies.

I sat at my desk, fidgeting and checking my phone every few seconds.

The lecture hall slowly filled as I nervously wondered who’d be teaching today. There was no way Brooks had faked Sinclair’s murder like he had my father’s.

I was there. Saw the blood. Mopped it freaking up.

Sinclair was no longer breathing on this earth, which meant he could no longer teach this class.

Guilt gnawed at me for that.

If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive. He’d be here, being a crappy human being, yes, but he’d at least be able to kiss his children goodnight.

All conversation suddenly stopped.

I dragged myself from my thoughts and looked toward the front of the room.

I gasped when Cedric walked toward the desk, carrying a leather briefcase. His height alone dominated the room, and his presence, like all the other Sons, demanded your full attention.

He’d never attended this class before. We actually didn’t have any classes together since he was a senior.

One girl whistled. Another fanned herself.

The guy to my right said, “Fuck, that guy is so cool.”

Cedric wasn’t a professor, but he was dressed like one. All the Mafia men had their own personal styles. Of all of them, Cedric’s was the most sophisticated.

He dropped the briefcase onto the desk with a heavy thud and rolled the chair out from the desk. Silence settled over the room as he unclasped the briefcase.

I leaned in closer, elbows on the desk, seeing what was inside. I rolled my eyes when I saw only a bottle of bourbon. Nothing else.

“Hello, class,” he greeted, unscrewing the bourbon lid and taking a swig. “Unfortunately, your teacher is”—he stopped to click his tongue against the roof of his mouth—“unavailable to teach class today. The university needed a replacement, so they thought what better person to teach about this great subject than me?” He cupped his hands together and placed them against his chest. “I consider myself an expert in this field.”

I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes again.

Cedric was notorious for ruining people’s lives who had wronged him. That included women.

Rumor had it, a girl he’d been seeing demanded he go public with her, and when he refused, she stood up in class and announced all the dirty things he liked in bed.

He’d sent her nudes to her priest as his revenge.