Chapter Seven: On the Edge
1289 Words
LOUIS
The moment Sabrina’s figure disappeared down the hallway, my eyes snapped back to Liam. He was waiting—grinning at me like he had just won some twisted game. Fury surged through me, hotter than fire. Before I even thought about it, I stormed toward him and slammed my fist into his jaw.
He staggered, but that smirk didn’t fade. My hand clutched his collar, pulling him up close, my knuckles white with the pressure. “Stay away from Sabrina,” I hissed, each word sharp as broken glass.
Instead of fear, he only chuckled. His eyes gleamed with mockery. “Who the hell are you to demand that?” he said slowly, as if savoring my rage. “You’re not her boyfriend. You’re nothing to her.”
My chest tightened. The words hit deeper than I wanted to admit, but anger drowned out everything else. My arm pulled back, ready to crush that grin off his face once and for all.
Semi’s voice pierced through the fog of my rage. “Louis, stop!” She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly firm. “Stop it.”
My chest rose and fell rapidly, fury clawing at me from the inside. My jaw ached from clenching so hard, and every muscle in me screamed to break free and finish what I started. Liam dusted off his shirt with that same smug grin plastered across his face, like I was some joke.
I glared at him, the fire in me far from extinguished. “We’re not done here,” I muttered, my voice low and sharp. With that, I shoved past him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose it further.
Semi hurried after me, her footsteps quick behind mine. “Louis, wait!” she called, catching up. “Why would you do that? Why would you fight him—for Sabrina’s sake?”
Her words struck me, and I slowed my pace, though my anger still pulsed hot under my skin. I turned to her, eyes hard. “Because that guy is taking advantage of her,” I said through gritted teeth. “He’s playing with her, and I won’t just stand by and watch.”
Semi crossed her arms, frustration clear in her eyes. “But it’s Sabrina’s choice. You can’t make her decisions for her, Louis. If she wants to be with him, then that’s on her.”
I stopped walking, her words digging into me, but not enough to silence the storm inside. I shook my head, the truth burning on my tongue. “No. I can’t let that happen,” I admitted, my voice rougher than I intended. My hands curled into fists at my sides, not out of anger at Semi, but at myself for finally saying it aloud. “Because I like her. I can’t just watch her get hurt,” I continued quietly. “Not when I—when she means this much to me.”
Semi stood still, her expression unreadable. I didn’t know what she was thinking.
“I’m gonna go get a shower,” I muttered, my voice flat, almost drained after everything. Without waiting for a reply, I turned and walked away. My steps felt heavy, my chest still tight from all the anger I’d tried to hold back.
***
SABRINA
The rim of my glass was cool against my lips as I took another slow sip of my cocktail. The lounge lighting was dim, warm, and perfect for forgetting the football field drama. But apparently, forgetting wasn’t on my friends’ agenda.
“Sabrina,” Liza started carefully, her voice just loud enough to cut through the low music. “About earlier… what you said to Louis—it was a little harsh. He looked really hurt.”
I swirled the pink liquid in my glass, watching the ice cubes spin lazily. “So? He’ll live.”
Yannie leaned forward, her brows knit together in that infuriatingly earnest way. “Sab, come on. He wasn’t trying to fight with you. He was just… concerned. You know Louis. He’s always been that way with you.”
I set my glass down with a soft clink and leaned back against the couch, crossing my legs. “I didn’t ask him to be concerned, Yannie. Did I?” My tone was sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. “He’s not my babysitter. He doesn’t get to grab my arm and demand explanations, like I owe him something.”
Liza exhaled, shaking her head. “Still, the way you brushed him off… It came out cold.”
“Good,” I said flatly. “Because maybe now he’ll finally get the message. I don’t need anyone policing my choices—especially not Louis.”
Yannie glanced at Liza, clearly torn, but said nothing more. The air between us felt heavier, but I lifted my glass again, forcing a smirk. “Relax, girls. Let’s not waste our night dissecting Louis’s feelings. We’re here to drink, not to babysit someone else’s heartbreak.”
And with that, I drained the rest of my cocktail, as if that settled it.
The bass thumped through the floor, heavy and intoxicating, the kind that you could feel in your chest more than you could hear in your ears. Neon lights pulsed in shades of red and blue, painting the room in shifting colors as the crowd moved like a single restless wave.
“You know what? Enough talking.” I slammed my empty glass on the table and stood. “Why don’t we dance? Come on!”
Yannie and Liza exchanged a quick look before laughing, and I grabbed both their wrists, tugging them onto the dance floor with me.
The moment we stepped into the throng, the music swallowed us whole. Sweat, perfume, and laughter tangled together in the air. Yannie spun around dramatically, her arms in the air, while Liza tried to mimic the moves she’d seen on t****k, laughing at herself. Their joy was contagious, and I felt my own grin breaking through, wide and unrestrained.
I let the beat own me. My hips rolled, my hair swung wild, and my heels clicked against the sticky floor as I lost myself in the rhythm. The air was hot, electric, but I didn’t stop.
Here, I wasn’t Sabrina the heiress. I wasn’t someone’s daughter, someone’s scandal, someone’s problem. I was just me—reckless, alive, and untouchable under the strobe lights.
And God, it felt good.
***
I staggered a little as I pushed open the door to the comfort room, the pounding bass leaking in from the club. My head felt heavy, my body loose—maybe twenty cocktails weren’t the smartest idea, but hell, I was having fun. Yannie and Liza were still somewhere on the dancefloor, laughing, twirling, completely lost in the music
I steadied myself at the sink, running cool water over my hands, splashing some on my face. The mirror showed me a version of myself I knew too well—flushed cheeks, smudged lipstick, hair wild from dancing. Still, I smirked. I looked good. Untouchable.
Pushing the door open, I stepped back into the hallway leading to the dance floor, ready to dive back into the chaos. But then he appeared. A man in a perfectly tailored suit, the kind that screamed money and power, leaned casually against the wall like he’d been waiting. His eyes lit up the second they landed on me. “Sabrina Isabelle,” he said smoothly, like he knew me.
I blinked, disoriented, trying to place him. Nothing. His face was unfamiliar, and the way he said my name made my stomach twist.
“Do I know you?”
***
- Writer
