Chapter 9
Violet
Monday morning arrived with the kind of gray, heavy sky that made me want to stay in bed all day. But I had Business Strategy at nine, and I already had enough problems in my life without adding academic failure to the list.
The lecture hall was massive, with tiered seating that could hold hundreds of students. I slipped into a seat near the middle, not too close to the front but not hiding in the back either. Just... anonymous.
Professor Chang was already setting up at the podium, shuffling through notes, when I felt it. That familiar prickling awareness on the back of my neck.
I looked up and around, scanning the rows of seats filling with students, and my breath caught in my throat.
Julian Valcourt sat three rows behind and to the left. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his profile sharp even from this distance… and he was looking directly at me.
Not glancing. Not accidentally catching my eye. Staring.
My pulse kicked up immediately, that treacherous combination of fear and something else I was ashamed to admit.
I tried to tell myself it was just adrenaline; a survival response to a predator. But if that was true… why did heat curl low in my stomach when Julian’s mouth curved into the faintest hint of a smile?
I looked away, forcing my attention to my laptop, my notebook, anywhere but him. But I could still feel his gaze on me, heavy and deliberate.
Stop it, I told myself. He's dangerous. His brother might’ve killed Cal, and he's part of the Dionysus Club. You should be terrified, not...
Not this.
I risked another glance over my shoulder. Julian was still watching me, chin propped on his hand, completely ignoring whatever Professor Chang was saying about market segmentation.
Why was he even here? This was Business Strategy 301, a class typically taken by juniors. Although… now that I was thinking about it a little harder, I recalled that seniors could enroll if they needed the credit or wanted the elective.
So maybe Julian was just in the class by coincidence. Maybe it had nothing to do with me.
The lecture dragged on. I tried my best to focus, but every few minutes, I'd feel that magnetic pull and look up to find Julian still staring at me.
Asshole. He was clearly trying to intimidate me. As if he hadn’t done enough of that already, with all the blood he’d splashed across my bed the other night.
When class finally ended, I packed up quickly and headed to my next lecture. Organizational Behavior, in the Hecate building on the northeastern side of campus.
I found a spot near the back this time, telling myself I was being paranoid. There was no way Julian would—
He walked in, and my stomach dropped. What the hell?
He scanned the room, found me immediately, and took a seat two rows ahead. Not directly in front of me, but close enough that when he turned his head slightly to the left, I was in his peripheral vision.
This couldn't be a coincidence. Not two classes in a row.
Then again, this was also a junior-senior level course. He could legitimately be enrolled. So I couldn't accuse him of stalking me when he had every right to be here.
Plausible deniability. That's what he was giving himself, if I was right about him following me around campus.
My phone buzzed in my pocket a few minutes later. I pulled it out carefully, keeping it low so the professor wouldn't see.
Number Withheld: I heard you're still looking for answers.
Ice slid down my spine, and I glanced up. Julian's back was to me, but something about the set of his shoulders made me think he was definitely the one who sent the anonymous message.
My fingers trembled as I typed back.
Me: Who is this?
Three dots appeared immediately, and I stared at Julian the whole time, trying to figure out if he was actually the one typing.
I couldn't tell, though. His hands weren’t visible, and his body seemed perfectly still.
However, I could’ve sworn I saw the faintest twitch in his jaw, like he was holding back a smile.
The reply finally came through a moment later.
Number Withheld: Most people come to college to learn... but it seems like you aren't capable of learning lessons. Maybe you need someone to teach you again.
I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on those last three words.
Teach you again.
Like the blood. Like the message on my wall.
My eyes shot back up to Julian. He shifted in his seat, and for just a second, his gaze flicked toward me.
It was him. It had to be him. Unless the Dionysus Club had sent multiple guys to intimidate me in order to ensure my silence about my sister’s death.
My hands were shaking now, anger and fear warring in my chest. I wanted to stand up and confront Julian right there in the middle of the lecture, but what could I even say?
‘I know you're texting me threats’? He'd just deny it.
Show me an empty message history. Make me look paranoid and unstable in front of the entire class.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and stared at the back of his head, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.
The rest of the lecture passed in a blur. I didn't hear a word Professor Martin said. All I could focus on was Julian, sitting there so casually, like he wasn't actively trying to terrorize me.
When class ended, I stayed in my seat, letting the crowd thin out. I wanted to see what Julian would do. If he'd wait for me. If he'd try to approach.
But when I finally stood and made my way down the steps, he was already at the exit, standing with another guy—tall, athletic, probably from one of the sports teams. They were deep in conversation, Julian's posture relaxed, his attention completely on his companion.
He didn't look at me at all. Not even a glance. And for some stupid, irrational reason, that stung.
I stopped on the bottom step, staring at him. Waiting for him to turn and give me that look again; the one that made me feel like the only person in the room. But he didn't. He laughed at something the other guy said, clapped him on the shoulder, and walked out without a backward glance.
I stood there like an idiot, clutching my bag, feeling a sharp pang of something that felt dangerously close to disappointment.
What the hell is wrong with you? I asked myself.
Some traitorous part of me wanted Julian’s attention, but that was crazy.
I shook my head sharply and headed for the exit. No. Absolutely not. I wasn't doing this. I wasn't going to stand here wishing a guy like him would notice me or want me.
He was dangerous. I needed to remember that, even if my stupid, self-destructive heart kept forgetting. Or more accurately, my stupid, self-destructive libido.
As I headed away from the Hecate building, a tall guy with light brown hair stepped out in front of me, one hand lifted in a casual wave. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why.
“Hey, you’re Violet, right?” he asked.
I stopped, brows rising. “Um… yeah?”
He stuck his hand out and grinned. “Kane Sutherland. We haven't officially met, but I was standing right near you at that Midsummer party on Friday. At the food table? I think you were being introduced to someone called Jessy or Ginny.”
“Oh, right!” Recognition clicked into place. I took his hand and shook it briefly. “You were wearing a toga, weren't you?”
“Yeah. My frat was having a toga party the same night,” he replied. “Some friends and I just stopped by Midsummer first to say hi to a few people we knew.”
“Ah, cool.”
“Anyway, uhh…” His smile faded, and he rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous about something. “I was talking to a friend the day after, and, er… he said he overheard part of a conversation you had with someone that night.”
My own smile disappeared. “Um… okay,” I said, not quite knowing what else to say.
“He said you’re Calista Hoffman’s sister. Is that true?”
I lifted my chin and looked him directly in the eye. “Yeah, it is,” I said stoically.
I was half-expecting him to be another Dionysus Club goon sent to rattle me. But instead, his smile returned, genuine and warm. “Wow, it’s so cool that you’re here now,” he said. “I actually knew Calista pretty well.”
“Oh.” My defensiveness eased slightly. “You were friends?”
“Yeah, she used to come to a lot of our parties back in the day, so we met at one of those,” he said. “She talked about you a few times, but she never showed me any photos. I had no idea you two looked so different.”
I gave him a small smile. “We’re half-sisters, so yeah, we used to get that a lot.”
“Right, I remember her saying something about that,” he said, nodding slowly. “Anyway, sorry to ambush you like this. I just saw you and... well, it's really nice to meet you properly. I miss Calista a lot. She was really cool.”
“Yeah, she was,” I murmured, my throat tightening.
“I’m guessing you probably don’t want to talk about her with a total stranger, but hey… if you ever feel like you need to, I’m around,” he added.
“Actually, I’d love to talk about her,” I said, brows rising. The more information I could gather about my sister from her friends and acquaintances, the better. “I’ve been hoping to meet all the people she knew and hear stories about her time here.”
“Oh, cool. I’d love to help you out with that.” Kane glanced at his watch. “Right now isn’t a great time, because I’ve got a class in ten minutes, but do you know Revs?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s a burger and beer place downtown. They do a decent happy hour for cocktails too. Your sister used to love it,” he said, smiling fondly. “So we could go there one night this week, get some greasy food, and reminisce.”
“That sounds good. When are you free?”
“Not tonight or tomorrow night, unfortunately. Frat recruitment stuff,” he said with a slight grimace. “How about Wednesday night? I could swing by your dorm to pick you up around seven?”
“Wednesday works for me. I can just meet you at the place.”
“Great. Let’s swap numbers in case something comes up.”