Chapter 4 Four - Blaine

• "Chapter thirteen," I bark.
• She nods and finds her place in the book, biting on her bottom lip. It's not done to be arousing, but everything this girl does lately drives me fucking insane. I run a hand through my hair and tear my eyes off of her, gazing across the room at the solemn and focused faces.
• Every student fears me and my punishments at this school, even the cocky ones like Elias Morales. He would swear blind he doesn't, but I've seen his fear when he has been sent to me.
• "Can anyone tell me a name of a famous poison used in the past? One that is easily accessible."
• There's a few moments of silence, before Natalya Gurin thrusts her hand in the air. Drawing my attention back to that front row, where Natalya is sitting beside Azira.
• "Yes, Gurin."
• "Atropa belladonna."
• I nod. "Indeed, a classic that has been used for centuries. What makes it so effective?"
• "The berries can be added to a sweet drink, for example, and therefore it can be very difficult to detect the poison as they are sweet and pleasant to taste."
• I nod. "And what effects does it have on the body once consumed?"
• "It can block the normal functions of the nervous system, causing paralysis, even in the heart. And therefore can be fatal at the right dosage level," Natalya answers.
• Eva Carmichael clears her throat next to Natalya as if she's uncomfortable by her friend's extensive knowledge of a deadly poison. It's clear my friend's wife is not cut out for the world of the mafia. It's difficult to believe that Oak fell for a student, let alone married one.
• Unfortunately, I think that's only added more fuel to the fire where Azira is concerned, as I glance over at her and find she's staring at me with fuck me eyes.
• I grit my teeth and move my attention elsewhere. "Right, I want all of you to read chapter thirteen and then write a short three hundred word essay on which poison you would choose if you needed to take out an enemy quickly but quietly without being detected."
• There's a murmured grumble as the students get to work reading the chapter. Sitting down behind my desk, I loosen my tie, which feels too damn tight. The room feels hot even though I know it's a normal temperature. It's the girl at the front of the room that's making me feel that way.
• I focus on the pile of sophomore essays in front of me on the heart and its functions to the body, picking up the one on the top of the pile. Teaching can be such mundane work and yet it helps me quieten that sadistic urge that follows me every step I take in life. The discipline and structure of working in a school gave me a way of controlling those urges and an outlet as the resident SA punisher.
• Oak saved me from myself when he offered me this job, as I was on the edge of no return, spiraling toward a dangerous future, one that could have landed me in prison or worse. I was an enforcer for the Sidorov Bratva on the other side of the border in Toronto, emigrating at fourteen years old from Russia, but the violence and lack of rules made it hard to control my thirst for blood.
• I killed one of the higher-ranking members in an argument and had to flee. The sudden upheaval in my life set me off on a spree that I am not proud of. That's when Oak and I met, and he offered me a job and protection from the men I fucked over and from myself.
• "I'm finished, sir," Natalya says, placing the essay onto the desk. As always, she finishes first every damn time.
• "Thank you. You may leave."
• She nods and walks away, leaving the rest of the class still slaving over their essays. Natalya Gurin has always been the smartest kid in class ever since she arrived here. It's refreshing to have a female student that is so dedicated to her studies.
• Slowly, the rest of the class turn in their essays and leave early. I don't see the point in forcing students to stick around if their work is complete. When I glance up and see Lila Estrada handing in her essay, my stomach dips. There's five minutes left until the bell goes, and now Azira is the only student left.
• "Thank you, Miss Estrada."
• She smiles and nods, walking out of the room.
• My heart thunders erratically beneath my ribcage as I stare at Azira, who is still writing somewhat leisurely, considering she's the last in here.
• Deep down, I know she made sure she took the longest, so we'd be alone together. Something that's happening far too often lately to be a coincidence. Desire swirls to life in my gut as I watch her, wishing I wasn't so taken by my student. It's an everyday struggle made worse by the fact I know deep down she's a natural masochist, even if she doesn't understand it yet. What I'd do to have the opportunity to teach her and open her eyes to a world of pleasure and pain.
• I clench my fist beneath the desk as I count down the seconds to the bell. My cock semi-hard and straining against the zipper of my pants. This day has already been fucking challenging enough without Azira Sidorov giving me blue balls.
• The chime of the bell sounds and her stunning brown eyes lift from the paper as she clicks the lid on her pen. They meet mine and the fire in them is enough to burn down the entire fucking building.
• "Finished, Miss Sidorov?" I ask, unable to stop my voice from sound strained.
• She smiles, and it's the most beautiful smile that I've ever seen. Beauty is subjective and I don't normally find it in such mundane things like smiles or appearance. Normally, I see beauty in chaos and pain, and yet Azira is beautiful to me all the damn time. "Yes, sir."
• I grind my teeth together as I watch her stand and walk toward the desk. She always calls me sir, whereas most of the students call me professor. And when she does it, there's something suggestive, almost sexual.
• Or perhaps it's because I've lost my head ever since that night at the bar. I need to rein it in and squash any hopes she has that this can turn into anything other than a strictly professional student and professor relationship.