Chapter 32

Elena's POV

Dominic's words echoed in my ears. The implication was clear: he wanted me on my knees, humiliated and desperate. Just like when I'd first approached him for money that rainy night. Olivia's smug smile grew wider as she watched me struggle with my pride.

My father's face flashed in my mind. He needed me. I couldn't afford to be arrested for something I hadn't done. With every eye on campus watching, I slowly lowered myself to the ground, my knees pressing into the cold concrete.

"Dominic, please," I said, my voice barely audible. "I'm begging you. Help me."

Olivia let out a delighted laugh. "That's more like it! On your knees is where trash belongs."

I kept my eyes fixed on Dominic, ignoring her taunts. His expression remained unreadable. Was this enough? Or would he demand more public degradation?

Just as I opened my mouth to further humiliate myself, Olivia stepped forward and shoved me hard. I fell sideways, my palms scraping against the rough pavement.

"Stay down, bitch," she hissed.

To my surprise, Dominic's head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I don't recall giving you permission to touch what's mine."

Olivia's face reddened. "Yours? But you said—"

"I said many things," Dominic interrupted. "Most of which you clearly misinterpreted."

A tiny, pathetic spark of hope flared in my chest before I ruthlessly extinguished it. This wasn't about me. This was about control. Olivia had acted without his permission, disrupting his carefully orchestrated scene of my humiliation.

Dominic considered me for a moment, then turned to the gathering crowd. "There's nothing more to see here." His tone carried such authority that students immediately began dispersing.

Without another word, he walked away, leaving me standing there with my suitcases and confusion. No resolution. No clarity on whether he'd help me or ruin me. Just... nothing.

I raced home, convinced that Dominic might retaliate against my father.

To my relief, Dad was exactly as I'd left him, dozing peacefully under Mrs. Rodriguez's watchful eye. I thanked her profusely, probably seeming slightly unhinged in my intensity, but she just patted my hand and assured me everything had been fine.

The days that followed blurred together in a haze of caregiving and exhaustion. I attended classes when Mrs. Rodriguez could watch Dad, struggled with assignments, and endured the whispers and stares across campus. Olivia had been busy spreading her version of events.

After the first month, I gave up trying to counter the rumors. According to campus gossip, I was a stalker, a would-be murderer, a desperate ex clinging to a relationship that had never existed. I became a ghost, slipping into classes late and leaving early, keeping my head down.

At home, conditions deteriorated rapidly. Elaine, frustrated that her plan to sell me had failed, took her anger out in countless small ways. She "accidentally" unplugged Dad's medical equipment. She "forgot" to mention when his doctors called. She "misplaced" his medications, only for them to reappear after hours of searching.

I couldn't prove any of it was deliberate, but the pattern was unmistakable. She wanted me gone, wanted him gone, wanted the house to herself.

Through it all, I heard nothing from Dominic. No legal threats. No demands. No offers of help. Nothing. It was as if I'd ceased to exist for him the moment I ended our contract. The realization shouldn't have hurt, but it did.

I hated myself for missing him. Hated how I jumped at expensive cars passing our house. Hated finding myself unconsciously wearing clothes he'd bought me, seeking connection to that brief time when I'd felt... what? Protected? Desired? Less alone?

"Pathetic," I whispered to my reflection one morning, three months after our final encounter. "Get over it. Get over him."

In mid-April, Ethan suddenly appeared at my dorm room. The school had kept the room for me, and I could come over at noon to rest.

"Midterms," he said simply when I opened the door. "Thought you might need help with Professor Matthews' class. You've missed a lot of lectures."

I hesitated, surprised by the normalcy of the offer.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said finally.

"Look, Elena," he ran a hand through his hair, "I know I messed up. Badly. The proposal thing was... stupid. I see that now." He offered a sheepish smile. "But we were friends before we dated, remember? Just two study partners trying to survive Matthews' impossible exams."

It was tempting. God, it was tempting to have just one normal thing in my life again.

"One hour," I relented.

Ethan spread his notes across the table, and for a while, it was almost like old times. Just two students struggling through complex theories, trading insights, occasionally laughing at Matthews' infamous red pen corrections.

I tensed, expecting him to bring up Dominic or Olivia. But he steered clear of those topics, focusing instead on professors, classes, the upcoming spring formal.

By the time our agreed hour ended, I felt almost normal again. Almost hopeful that some fragments of my old life might be salvageable.

"Thanks for this," I said as I walked him to the door. "It was... nice. Normal."

"Same time next week?" he suggested. "I could bring my notes from Robertson's class too."

I hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."

It was a mistake. I knew it even as I agreed, but I was so desperately lonely, so tired of being isolated, that I ignored the warning bells in my head.

For three weeks, our study sessions continued without incident. Ethan was respectful, helpful, almost like the guy I'd fallen for before Olivia. I began to lower my guard, to think perhaps people really could change.

Then came the fourth session. Ethan arrived with Chinese takeout, we ate, we studied, and when we finished, he offered to help clean up.

"I saw Lucchesi last week," he said casually as he dried a plate. "At that high-end bar downtown. The one with the silver something name."

My hands stilled in the soapy water. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Just making conversation." He shrugged, but his eyes watched me too intently. "He was with some redhead. Not Olivia." He paused. "Was it serious between you two?"

"That's none of your business." I pulled the plug, letting the water drain.

"I'm just trying to understand," he pressed. "What you saw in him. What he gave you that I didn't."

"Ethan, we were studying. That's it. I'm not discussing my personal life with you."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"We're done here." I moved to step around him, but he blocked my path.

"Answer me," he demanded, his pupils dilating slightly. "Did you let him fuck you?"

"Get out of my dorm room," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

Instead of leaving, he grabbed my wrists, pinning them against the counter.

"Let go of me!" I struggled against his grip, but he was too strong, his partial wolf genetics giving him supernatural strength.

"I loved you," he snarled, his face inches from mine. "I would have given you everything. And you threw it away for what? To be some rich asshole's whore?"

His mouth crashed against mine in a bruising kiss, his hand moving to tear at my blouse. Buttons scattered across the floor as he exposed my bra. "I want to see what was so special that he paid for it."

Terror crashed through me as I realized his intentions. I screamed, but Ethan slammed his hand over my mouth.

"Shut up! I just want what he had. What you gave him so easily."

I bit down hard on his palm. He yanked his hand away with a curse, then slapped me with such force that I tasted blood. Dazed, I couldn't fight as he dragged me to the floor, pinning me down as he tore at my jeans.

"Please," I sobbed. "Ethan, don't do this!"

He ignored my pleas, struggling with his zipper, intent on forcing himself inside me.

I screamed again, as loud as I could. This time, the sound was answered by a tremendous crash. Through my tears, I saw a tall figure standing in the doorway.

"Now," said a familiar voice, low and deadly, "get off her."