Maid for the Mafia

**ROMANY**

I spent most of the day locked away in my suite, running through all the little moments of my past relationship with Matthew. Everything from the very first day he came on to me in his office, to those last few moments just before he kicked me out of his place. The more I allowed myself to dissect the facts, the stupider and stupider I began to feel. The signs were all there... they were *always* there. Down to the moment I passed Charlotte Scottsdale storming out of his office in the wee hours of the night.

I remembered thinking she looked upset. Her eyes were red, her mascara was smeared. Even her clothes seemed in disarray. It really *should* have been a big red flag but it wasn't. Because for some odd reason, when a fellow classmate explodes out of her professor's office looking the way that Charlotte did, people shrug it off. Why? Because such is a constant happening within the walls of Academia. Grades suffer, students beg, zeros are given, and exams can kill you. Besides, I believed as everybody else did. That a student being harassed by a teacher would say something. They would report it, wouldn't they? Of course they would... at least, that's what most *think*. Tears are shed quite regularly during office hours on campus grounds. And so, you see, therein lay my first clue. That Monday night wasn't office hours. No. It was damn near midnight and Charlotte had absolutely no business coming out of any professor's office at that time. Ironically enough, I never would have seen her at all if I hadn't been dumb enough to leave my notes in class that day.

At that time, I had Matthew's class in the mornings, but everyone knew his last session ended at nine. So after a particularly frustrating study group in the old wing of the school, I decided to retrieve my notes by sneaking into his classroom well after he was sure to have gone home.

Little did I know...

After Charlottle raced out of the hall, I was left standing there in full view. Matthew stood in the doorway to his office. Any hopes I'd had of sneaking into the classroom died the moment he saw me. The fact that he didn't grill me, or interrogate me about what I was doing there, never even seemed to register. I didn't so much as bat an eyelash when he gestured me into his space. Not even when he asked me to have a seat along the far wall and out of the sight of the windows. I mean - the windows were shuttered, but still - his seating me so far away from the exit should have set off a few warning bells.

Now that I think back... I can see it. The role he was playing that night and how it morphed from one victim to the next.

**Flashback**

*After I sat down in the corner of his office, Professor Jensen stepped around his desk to slide the dead bolt into place. "I was just about to head home," he said. dimming the lights before turning to face me.* *Why would he lock the door unless I were in trouble, I thought to myself. He must know I was about to break into the classroom. He must not want me to be able to run.*

*"You too, Romany?" he asked softly, walking toward me like a hunter approaching a wounded animal.*

*Not certain what he's talking about, I shook my head no.*

*He chuckled, clenching his handsomely sculpted jaw as he stops directly in front of where I'm sat. "Were you in on this together? Huh? First, I catch that one in my office trying to steal a copy of the final, and then...you."* *I flinched. "Professor Jensen, no! I-I-"*

*He snapped, "Stop. I don't want to hear any more excuses. I mean, I understand that you're desperate. After all, you are failing."*

*"I'm failing?" I whispered, my eyes falling shut as the news hits my shoulders.*

*"You have to know that you are," he said, and I felt his large warm hand on my knee as he sat on the sofa next to me. "Even though I'm your professor, I'm really not much older than you are, Romany. I mean, we could practically be friends. I completely understand how stressful it can get. But instead of planning to break into my office and steal, you should have just come to me and asked. I would have been more than happy to provide you with a copy of the final." * *My eyes shot open, his hand on my knee, a budding afterthought in comparison to what I just thought I heard. He was sitting so close to me that the muscles behind his shirt were visible and in all honestly, I couldn't help but take a peek. "You're not serious!"*

*He sighed, his hand dropping from my knee as he stood then headed for his mini-fridge. "Do you want a beer?" he asked, reaching inside before I could answer and popping the tabs off of two.*

*"Okay," I accepted, taking it from him only to sip it while he downed one, then two more.*

*Once his beers were finished, he pulled out a white sheet of paper from the inside of his desk and handed it to me. When I looked down at it, I almost choked on my own air. It was a copy of the final exam. Just like he said he would give me. At first I was too shocked to respond, my notes are a thing of the past now. Utterly forgotten.*

*Professor Jensen grinned, dropping down on the couch even closer to me than before. Our legs were pressed together and his arm rested behind my head while I scanned the page in my lap. I hardly even noticed when he started playing with my hair as I mulled over the first few essay questions and committed them to memory.*

*"I can't accept this," I said, still reading it despite my refusal to use it.*

*"Drink your beer," he murmured with his lips on my ear.*

*At the feel of them, my body froze and my heart began to beat so strongly that I could see the cheat sheet trembling in my lap in time with the thumping in my chest. Suddenly his arm closed around my back, pulling me in closer as he began to flick his tongue against my neck. Angling his body to the side, he leaned into me, his mouth hot and wet as he nipped and sucked at my throat. Still, I couldn't move. It didn't seem like it was real. I just kept telling myself, that the moment he realized I wasn't into it, he would stop, and I would simply get up and leave. But the next thing I knew, he was pressing the beer can against my mouth and urging me to drink. Wanting to finish whatever we'd started, I complied. Swallowing the entire can in two gulps, I then dropped it onto the floor right next to the cheat sheet. As swiftly as I could manage, I tried to stand.*

*"Where are you going?" he snapped, yanking my body back onto the couch and settling on top of me in one smooth motion. As I looked up at him, I could hardly believe what was happening. This was my teacher. And not just any teacher, the one I used to sit and fantasize about just to pass the time in class.*

*He studied me with heavy lidded eyes, my lower body trapped beneath both of his legs as he rocked his hips forward and took both of my wrists in his hands. Dipping his face downward, he tried to kiss my lips, but I turned my head and his mouth ended up against my neck. "I just want to kiss you, Romany," he whispered. "That's it. I promise. I won't take any more than that. You're so beautiful. Just let me kiss you. Please. Just one kiss and I will let you leave.* *Just one kiss? Okay. How bad can one kiss be?*