Hale didn't strike loudly.
That would have been predictable.
Instead, he struck where pain lingered longest — memory, reputation, fear.
Anabeth first felt it when she walked onto campus the next morning and noticed the silence. Not the calm kind, but the tense, expectant hush that followed her steps. Conversations paused. Eyes lingered. Phones dipped and rose again.
Something had shifted.
Cassian noticed immediately. "He moved."
Rafael's jaw tightened. "How?"
They found out within minutes.
Screens across campus flickered to life — digital notice boards, classroom projectors, even phones as links spread like wildfire.
A video.
Anabeth's stomach dropped.
It was old.
Years old.
Grainy footage from a phone camera, shot secretly through a cracked doorway. The angle was wrong. The sound distorted.
But the image was unmistakable.
Her childhood home.
Her parents.
Moments she had buried so deep she'd convinced herself they never happened.
Her hands began to shake.
"This is psychological warfare," Cassian said sharply. "He's targeting her history."
Rafael took the phone from her gently, his expression darkening with every second.
The video ended with text:
TRUTH HAS CONSEQUENCES.
Anabeth's breath came shallow. "He wants me to break."
"He wants you isolated," Rafael said quietly.
By noon, the fallout exploded.
Anonymous posts appeared accusing Anabeth of manipulation, of using powerful men, of being "damaged," "corrupt," "dangerous." Hale didn't need to lie — he twisted fragments of truth into weapons.
Faculty members avoided eye contact.
Students whispered openly now.
"Did you see the video?"
"Is that really her?"
"No wonder she's with him."
"She's trouble."
Anabeth walked through it all like a ghost.
Inside the administration building, Rafael slammed his palm against the wall.
"He crossed a line."
Cassian nodded. "He wants to provoke a mistake. Emotional instability. Public reaction."
Anabeth finally spoke. Her voice was calm — too calm.
"He knows my past," she said. "That means he's been watching me long before I met you."
The realization settled heavily.
Rafael looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"
"He didn't choose me randomly," she said. "I was already his project."
That afternoon, Hale made his boldest move yet.
An email — sent directly to Anabeth.
No intermediaries.
No threats.
Just an invitation.
Private Office. Campus Perimeter Building. 6:00 PM.
Come alone.
Cassian read it twice. "It's bait."
Rafael didn't hesitate. "We don't go."
Anabeth shook her head. "We do."
Silence fell.
Rafael's voice hardened. "Absolutely not."
"He wants me," she said. "Not you. If I don't go, he escalates."
Cassian studied her carefully. "He wants control. A conversation is still control."
Anabeth met Rafael's gaze. "Trust me."
He exhaled sharply, conflicted.
"We won't be far," Cassian said finally. "He won't touch you."
Evening came too fast.
The campus perimeter building stood half-abandoned, administrative offices long relocated. The lights inside glowed faintly.
Anabeth stepped in alone.
Hale was waiting.
He looked different — thinner, eyes sharper, fury tightly leashed behind a pleasant smile.
"Anabeth," he said warmly. "You look… composed."
"You exposed my childhood," she replied. "That's not academic misconduct. That's obsession."
He chuckled softly. "Truth frightens people."
"You edited it."
"I curated it," Hale corrected. "Presentation matters."
She stepped closer, heart pounding but steady. "Why me?"
Hale leaned back in his chair. "Because you're honest about desire. About hunger. And society hates women who don't pretend otherwise."
Her stomach twisted.
"You thought you could mold me," she said.
"I thought I could understand you," he replied. "Until Rafael De Luca decided to interfere."
"You're angry because he took control," she said.
Hale's smile vanished.
"No," he said coldly. "I'm angry because he made you visible. And visibility invites judgment."
"Then you failed," she said. "Because I'm still standing."
Hale rose slowly, circling her like a predator.
"You think exposure weakened you," he murmured. "It didn't. It prepared you."
"For what?" she demanded.
"For the moment you realize how much power you truly have."
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Cassian.
Hale noticed. Smiled.
"They're close," he said. "But not close enough to stop what's already in motion."
Her pulse spiked. "What did you do?"
He leaned in, voice low. "I planted doubt. Everywhere."
That night, the campus erupted again.
A disciplinary review was announced — not against Hale, but against Anabeth.
Ethics violations. Conduct concerns. Conflict of interest allegations.
Rafael stared at the notice in disbelief.
"He turned the institution against her," Cassian said quietly.
Anabeth stood between them, shoulders squared.
"He wanted a personal strike," she said. "He got it."
Rafael took her hands firmly. "This ends now."
Hale had struck personally.
He had attacked her past, her credibility, her place on campus.
But he had also revealed something crucial.
He was desperate.
And desperate men made fatal mistakes.
Anabeth looked out at the city lights beyond the window.
For the first time, fear didn't dominate her chest.
Resolve did.
Hale wanted her broken.
Instead, he had reminded her why she refused to be.
And this time…
She would strike back.