Chapter 7

Elena’s POV The bell above the door chimed as I stepped into Bluebird Café, and my breath caught despite myself. Nothing had changed. The warm lights, the low music, the familiar scent of coffee; it all pressed in at once. My eyes found our old spot by the window immediately. The table where everything had begun. I didn’t go there. I chose a seat closer to the counter instead, partly hidden by a tall plant. Sitting at that table would feel like agreeing to something I no longer believed in. Why would Mark choose this place? After everything he did, how could he be this shameless? Well, this was how it is, then it would end here. Right where it all began. I ordered a glass of orange juice and folded my hands in my lap. I checked my phone but no text from him. I wasn’t surprised. While I waited, the café worked its quiet magic on me anyway. The staff moved with the same easy rhythm. The barista still whistled softly as he worked. It pulled at a memory I hadn’t invited. Mark’s face rose unbidden in my mind, sitting across from me, relaxed, confident and effortlessly charming. He’d reached for my hand then, folding my fingers into his, his grip warm and certain. “I’ve never been this in love with anyone before, Elena,” he’d said. I remembered how my cheeks had burned, how easily my heart had fluttered at his touch. “A job at Thompson Crest Enterprises is already waiting for you,” he’d continued smoothly. “An apartment too. As my girl, you won’t have to struggle anymore. I’ll take care of everything.” He’d lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, his eyes holding mine, steady and promising. Now, I scoffed softly at the memory. How foolish I’d been to fall for a sweet tongue dressed as devotion. I pushed the thought away and focused on the condensation sliding down my glass and counting each drop until it disappeared. Minutes passed and then more. Just as I stood to leave, believing he wasn't going to show up, the bell rang again. Mark walked in like he owned the place, like he wasn’t late and he hadn’t kept me waiting on purpose. Then I saw it; the dark marks on his neck, fresh and careless. My chest tightened, but I forced my face into calmness. Whatever this meeting was meant to do, I wouldn’t let him see what he still had the power to stir. Mark slid into the chair across from me, stretching one leg lazily over the other. He leaned back, arm draped over the booth, radiating that same arrogant confidence that had once made me trip. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “You made me wait,” I said, keeping my voice calm, though my pulse raced. “And for what, Mark? What exactly do you want? Why are you sabotaging my interviews, blocking every chance for me to get hired, when I’ve already left your life?” He laughed softly, “Elena… I just wanted to show you something,” he said, tilting his head. “I want you to see what happens when you try to survive without me. You think you’re independent? You’re not. Not a single step you take matters without me.” I swallowed, forcing myself to stay steady. “So what? You expect me to cry, beg at your feet, and plead for permission to live?” “Exactly,” he said, spreading his hands as if that explained everything. “I invested in you; every salary I approved, every apartment and every luxury. And for what? Nothing. You didn’t treat me right, Elena. No gratitude and not even a massage. That's a total rip-off.” My stomach twisted. “You call treating me like your personal accessory an investment?” I snapped, voice shaking. “I earned every bit of what I had. I owe you nothing.” His eyes darkened, gleaming with something dangerous. He leaned forward, voice predatory, “Yes, you owe me, Elena. But I can fix that. Sleep with me one last time, give me something sweet and warm to hang on to, and I’ll call it even. After that… you’re free to move on.” Rage exploded inside me. My fingers tightened around my coffee cup, and without thinking, I hurled it straight at his face. Hot liquid splashed across his cheek and collar. “You disgusting little man!” I shouted, standing so quickly my chair screeched across the floor. “You think money and power make you untouchable? I trusted you! I loved you! And you…” My hands shook as I gestured at him, spilling every ounce of hurt and fury…“you think this is how a man behaves? You’re pathetic!” The café fell silent. Then he shot up halfway from his seat, eyes blazing and spittle flying. “You’ll regret this, Elena!” I didn’t look back, chest heaving as I stormed out of the Bluebird Café, leaving Mark soaked, humiliated, and fuming, his arrogance shattered by a girl who refused to be anyone’s possession. *** Reality hit hard a month after the Bluebird Café incident. Mark’s words, his arrogance, and his power weren’t empty threats. Everywhere I applied, I hit walls; companies quietly rescinded offers, interviews ended abruptly, and I felt the invisible hand of his sabotage tightening around my life. My grandmother’s hospital bills loomed again, like a dark cloud, relentless. I had no choice but to pick up a part time job at a bar. By evening, I found myself stepping into The Moonlight Lounge, the bar where night shifts paid the most. The uniform was… humiliating: a tight, skimpy cat-girl outfit that left little to the imagination. I tugged at the hem, trying to muster some dignity as I straightened my apron. “First day nerves?” a co-worker whispered, smirking. “Don’t worry. Just smile, serve drinks, and survive.” I nodded silently, forcing myself to focus. The bar buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and low music. I moved from table to table, trying to keep my hands steady, mind sharp and nerves in check. Most customers were harmless, just tipsy businessmen and college boys, until they arrived. A pack of wolfish men who noticed me immediately and in minutes, cornered me near the bar. One forced a drink toward my chest, laughing. “Relax, sweetheart. Have a drink with me.” “I’m working,” I stammered. “Please, leave me alone.” Their laughter grew, cruel and mocking. One grabbed my waist and pulled me closer. My heart pounded. Not again. “Come on, loosen up,” another sneered, forcing a glass of drink to my lips. I tried to pull away, but they closed in, tightening and blocking any possible exit. Panic surged. Then a shadow fell over them. “Get your filthy hands off her!” Every head turned. Even the men froze. I knew that voice. Alpha Eric stepped forward, looking tall, strong, and completely in control. The room seemed to change around him, like the air itself obeyed him. Oh God… not now! I whispered to myself, my heart racing with shame.