Chapter 7 Harassment
Alex's POV
I stood at the gates of Columbia University, snapping out of my shock.
I pulled out my phone and called my friend Mark.
"Mark, I need you to look up a car for me."
"What car is worth all this fuss? Did someone piss off our Alex?" Mark's playful laughter came through the phone.
I was in no mood for jokes. My eyes were fixed on the direction where the Bentley had disappeared, my amber eyes flashing with a dangerous light as I slowly recited the license plate number.
"I don't care what you have to do, find out right now who owns this car!"
I refused to believe that Elodie, who had nothing and could only depend on me, could climb up to someone else's branch so quickly.
To me, this was an unprecedented humiliation and betrayal.
I couldn't calm down for a long time.
When Mark called back, I was irritably smashing an expensive bottle of whiskey against the wall.
"Found it," Mark's voice carried a hint of disbelief. "That Bentley's registered to Nelson Corporation. You know Nelson Corp, right? The powerhouse that's been running Wall Street for the past few years with connections nobody can even touch... Here's the kicker—that car was parked outside the penthouse building on Park Avenue last night."
My movements froze abruptly.
Of course I knew that address. It was one of New York's most exclusive residences, with security so tight not even a fly could get in. The residents were all either rich or powerful—the kind of circle even my father was desperately trying to break into.
Elodie lived there?
A huge sense of absurdity and the rage that followed instantly overwhelmed me.
"Are you sure?" My voice was terrifyingly dark. This news was too shocking.
"Absolutely certain. I even had someone pull the surveillance footage. She definitely went into that building and never came back out."
I hung up angrily, my chest heaving violently.
Unbidden, images flooded my mind—Elodie's stubborn, pale face, and her cold profile as she got into that luxury car.
So she wasn't throwing a tantrum—she'd already found her next target, someone richer and more powerful than me.
This fact felt like a loud slap across my face.
I had always thought Elodie was my possession, a pet I could toy with when bored, something I could dismiss or discard at will. But she absolutely could not betray me of her own accord. A strong sense of possessiveness and jealousy grew like wild vines, choking my heart.
I had never so clearly realized that I actually gave a damn.
Samantha quickly picked up on this.
"Alex, why have you been so distracted lately?" After training ended, Samantha snuggled up to me as usual, but I pushed her away impatiently.
I was staring at my phone, at Elodie's social media account—empty, having already blocked me.
The gloom in my eyes deepened.
"Are you looking at that bitch again?" Samantha's tone was sharp and bitter. "What's so great about her? Why are you so obsessed? Have you forgotten how she embarrassed you at that party?"
"Shut up!" I snapped. "My business is none of yours."
Samantha stiffened at my cold attitude, her eyes instantly reddening.
I saw her clench her fists, but I couldn't be bothered to care.
After a moment, I heard Samantha's voice.
"Fine, I won't interfere." She smiled and took my hand again. "By the way, Alex, our cheerleading squad is having a party next week. You have to come."
I put away my phone impatiently. "We'll see."
With that, I shook off Samantha and left.
——
Elodie's POV
I had no idea I'd become a thorn in someone's side.
After getting Lorenzo's permission, I returned to the coffee shop the next day.
The manager was surprised to see me, his mouth falling open, but he still agreed to let me continue working.
Putting on my work uniform again, smelling the familiar coffee aroma, listening to the customers' conversations around me, my nerves that had been tense for days finally relaxed a bit.
However, this peace didn't last long.
In the evening, the customers in the shop gradually thinned out.
The wind chime on the door suddenly rang, and two sleazy-looking men walked in. They wore ill-fitting cheap suits with tattoos on their arms. As soon as they entered, they walked straight toward me and rudely plopped down in the booth I was serving.
"Hey girl, bring us two of your most expensive coffees." One man with purple-dyed hair crossed his legs, his disgusting eyes shamelessly roaming up and down my body.
I felt sick, but maintained a professional smile. "Alright, just a moment."
When I came back with the coffees, the other man with a scarred face suddenly stuck out his foot to trip me. Fortunately, I was prepared and barely managed to steady myself, but some coffee from the tray still spilled out, splashing onto the purple-haired man's hand.
"Fuck!" The purple-haired man jumped up dramatically and grabbed my wrist. "Are you fucking blind? Trying to scald me to death?"
His grip was extremely strong, making my wrist hurt.
I'd already cursed these lowlifes a dozen times in my head—gutter trash so vile their stench alone made my stomach turn. I jerked my hand away. "Sir, please show some respect."
"Respect? I'll teach you about respect today!" As the purple-haired man spoke, his other hand reached inappropriately toward my face.
I jerked my head away to dodge. The manager, hearing the commotion, rushed over with an apologetic smile. "Gentlemen, let's talk this out. She's new here, she doesn't know better..."
"Get lost!" Scarface shoved the manager aside and pulled a switchblade from his jacket, flicking it open and driving the point into the table. The blade caught the light. "Kid, our boss has taken a liking to this girl. She's coming with us."
The few remaining customers in the shop quickly paid and left in fright. The manager's face went pale, not daring to intervene further.
I looked at that knife, my heart pounding wildly, but forced myself to stay calm.
I didn't know any boss.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't know?" The purple-haired man sneered, leaning close to me and lowering his voice threateningly. "Someone doesn't want to see you at Columbia University anymore. Either you get lost on your own, or we help you get lost from this world. Your choice."
I instantly understood that besides Samantha, no one else would use such dirty tactics.
Enormous humiliation and anger surged up, but looking at that gleaming blade, I knew I had no choice but to comply.
I couldn't die now, not when I still had things to figure out.