Chapter 4

I really thought patience and giving him the silent treatment would make Ezra back off.

I didn't count on how vicious he was, or how small-minded, pettier than the eye of a needle. He actually went and turned my classmates loose on me online.

The most sickening part was how he blew up that thousand-dollar manicure, spinning it, piling on lie after lie.

Said I'd rather waste a thousand dollars on useless nails than spare a few hundred to buy him meals.

Said if he didn't have a little savings of his own, he'd have starved to death by now.

The noise kept spreading, and before long someone dug up my dorm number.

People threw trash at the door. People stood outside pointing at me and cursing at the top of their lungs.

Even my academic advisor called, and she told me straight out that because of all this bad publicity,

both my honors application and my student leadership application had been rejected.

There was pressure in her voice as she pushed me to settle it privately.

"It's just a little couples' spat, no need to drag the whole school into it. Go sort it out with Ezra quietly and put the noise to rest."

"If you don't handle it well, you could be looking at disciplinary action from the school."

I took a deep breath and asked,

"What kind of disciplinary action, roughly?"

She answered,

"If this spreads onto the internet and hurts the school's reputation, the likely outcome is a major disciplinary mark and expulsion."

"I've already talked to Ezra. He never meant for it to blow up. It just depends on whether you're willing to give a little ground."

Every word, every line, pushing me, the victim, to back down and admit fault.

But it's still an open question who ends up written up and expelled.

I gave a flat "Mm" and hung up.

I took Ezra off my blocked list. He thought I'd caved, and fired off a smug sticker first thing.

I went straight to the point.

"Delete the posts."

Like he'd known all along I'd ask, he shot back instantly.

"I can delete them. But from now on you hand over your ten thousand a month for me to manage, and you do as I say in everything. Then I'll let the whole thing go."

I warned him, cold.

"Don't push your luck. Slander and defamation carry legal consequences."

"I'm giving you one last chance. Delete the posts and apologize to me publicly, right now. Otherwise, you'll regret it."

He didn't care at all.

"Regret what? Am I not telling the truth? You've always been selfish and cold-blooded, sitting on your stinking pile of money and treating me, your boyfriend, like I don't exist."

"You want me to delete them, you do it my way."

He was sure I cared about my reputation. He was sure that if the pressure got heavy enough, I'd cave.

I'd bow my head, admit fault, soften on my own, spend my money on him like a good girl, and feed his greed.

Too bad. He'd figured me wrong.

Since he refused to see reason, then fine. Time for the hunt.