Chapter 124

Chapter 124
Violet

I drew a deep breath and hurled at him every word I'd once buried in my heart, holding nothing back. "I love him. I know exactly what I'm doing, and I know exactly what kind of man he is. So from now on, stay away from me. Stop trying to force your way into my life!"

Ethan clutched his cheek, the shock in his eyes slowly giving way to something darker, a twisted obsession.

He couldn't accept it—the girl who had once bent to his every whim was now slapping him in the middle of the street, all for another man.

"He's brainwashed you…" Ethan gritted through his teeth, his eyes so red they seemed about to bleed as he stared me down. "Violet, that old man has completely brainwashed you."

He lurched back a step, as though committing to some insane decision.

"I won't let this go." He jabbed a finger at me, his voice hoarse and vicious. "You think he can do whatever he wants? I'm going to Hall Group to find him! I'll tear that hypocrite's mask off to his face, and I'll make him give me—give you—an explanation!"

"Ethan! Stop!"

Instinctively I lunged forward a couple of steps, reaching to grab his arm.

But Ethan had lost all reason. He wrenched free of my hand and, like an enraged beast, bolted toward the subway station without looking back.

Watching his figure vanish around the corner, my heart lurched into a frantic rhythm, and a cold sweat broke out across my palms.

Ethan was a reckless madman. Now that he'd convinced himself I'd been brainwashed, that Julian was some predator who preyed on his students, he really would storm the Hall Group headquarters on Wall Street and cause a scene.

Julian was one of Manhattan's elite—a man who dealt daily with billion-dollar acquisitions and countless watchful eyes trained on his every move.

If Ethan started raging in the company lobby, or worse, drew the media, it would bring Julian enormous trouble and terrible publicity.

I couldn't let that happen.

I quickly pulled out my phone and, fingers trembling, dialed Julian's number.

It rang only once before he picked up.

"Violet?" His low, steady voice came through the receiver, faint rustling of paper in the background. Clearly he was in the middle of work.

"Julian, I'm sorry. Something's happened." I took a breath and rushed through it all—running into Ethan at the school gate, his meltdown, his threat to go settle the score at Hall Group.

My voice was thick with panic and self-reproach. "He won't listen to anything right now. I couldn't stop him. Should I have security get ready ahead of time? Or maybe I should call the police first—"

"Violet, calm down." Julian cut me off, his voice without a ripple, radiating absolute control. "Take a deep breath."

I obediently inhaled, and my hammering heart eased a little under his reassurance.

"Leave this to me." His tone was cool and unhurried, carrying the certainty of a man used to being in command. "If he dares show up at Hall Group, I'll teach him what boundaries mean. You don't need to waste a single thought on trash like that, and you certainly don't need to blame yourself. Go to class, eat a proper lunch, and let everything else go. Understand?"

His composure hit me like a shot of adrenaline, instantly dispelling the fear in my chest.

"I understand," I answered softly.

After I hung up, Lily came over and looped her arm through mine, patting the back of my hand. "Forget that psycho. Julian can handle him. Come on, I'm starving—let's hit the cafeteria."

Lily and I walked into the music conservatory's dining hall side by side.

It was the peak of the lunch rush, and the place was a roar of voices. But the moment we pushed through the doors, the atmosphere shifted in some subtle, unmistakable way.

Countless gazes turned toward us from every direction.

Shock, curiosity, envy—and, more than anything, a kind of appraising look I couldn't quite name.

That Instagram post from last night had obviously spread through the entire school.

The commoner concertmaster of the Manhattan Conservatory, publicly official with a Wall Street tycoon worth hundreds of billions—the news was more than enough to become everyone's favorite gossip.

I didn't shrink from those stares.

I straightened my spine and, tray in hand, walked with Lily to an empty seat by the window.

We'd barely sat down when an unpleasant shadow fell over our table.

A boy in a studded leather jacket, an earring glinting in one ear, set down his tray and, without so much as a by-your-leave, dragged out the chair beside me and sat.

I recognized him—a notorious troublemaker from the wind section, known for a wildly messy personal life.

"Violet, right?" He propped one hand on the table and leaned in, his posture blatantly invasive, his eyes roving shamelessly over me, a filthy smirk curling at his lips.

I frowned and looked at him coldly. "Do you need something?"

"Don't be so frosty." He lowered his voice, his tone dripping with malicious mockery. "Never would've guessed. Up on stage you play the sweet, innocent little virtuoso, but off it you're this wild? Bold enough to hook an old man like Julian Hall."

Lily slammed down her fork, on the verge of exploding, but I laid a hand on her arm to hold her back.

Seeing that I stayed silent, the thug took it for guilt and pushed further. He leaned closer, the cheap cologne and cigarette stink of him washing over me.

"That kind of old man who only knows how to read spreadsheets—can he even satisfy you in bed?" He grinned, utterly lecherous, his gaze fixed openly on my neckline. "Since you're so open about it, why not give me a shot? Sleep with me and I'll show you what a young man can really do. I guarantee I'm a whole lot better than that old fossil."

The words had barely left his mouth when several eavesdropping students nearby broke into low, snickering laughter.

I looked at that revolting face and felt not the faintest flicker of timidity—only a cold, burning rage.

I didn't scream. I didn't run.

With perfect calm, I picked up the bowl of tomato soup in front of me, freshly served and still steaming.

The next instant, without a moment's hesitation, I dumped the entire bowl over his head.

"Aaah—! Fuck!"

The thug let out a squeal like a slaughtered pig and shot up out of his chair.

Red tomato soup streamed down his greasy hair and cheeks, dripping in fat drops into the collar of his leather jacket. He was a wretched, sodden mess.

The dining hall went dead silent. Everyone stared, stunned.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" He wiped a smear of soup off his face and jabbed a finger at me, hand raised as if to charge.

I stayed in my chair, expressionless, and pulled my phone from my pocket. I opened the voice recorder and hit record.

"Put your hand down." I looked at him coldly and turned the screen to face him. My voice wasn't loud, but every word landed like a stone. "I'm recording. What you just said already constitutes serious sexual harassment. Take one more step toward me and I'll call the police immediately and hand this recording over to the board of trustees and the NYPD. Care to guess whether the wind section keeps a piece of trash with a sexual harassment record on file?"

His movement froze midair.

He looked at the red light glowing on my phone, then at my fearless eyes, and something distinctly panicked flickered in his gaze.

He was the type who bullied the weak and cowered before the strong. He'd assumed I was still the same pushover he could squeeze whenever he pleased, that he could ride the gossip for a few cheap verbal thrills.

He'd never expected me to strike back outright—much less to calmly gather evidence and threaten to call the cops.

"Fine, you win. Just you wait!" He spat out the toothless threat through clenched teeth and, crowned with a headful of gluey tomato soup, slunk out of the cafeteria under the eyes of the entire room.

The students around us, who moments ago had been leering and gawking, snapped their eyes away at once and buried their faces in their food. No one dared spare me another glance.

Across the table, Lily gaped at me.

A few seconds later she smacked the table, eyes blazing with wild delight.

"Oh my God, Violet! That was absolutely badass!" she squealed, keeping her voice down but barely containing her excitement. "Did you see that idiot's face? He looked like he'd swallowed a fly! You've changed—you've really changed! The version of you right now is downright lethally magnetic!"