Chapter Five

Sarah

The next morning, the mansion was already alive with noise, music, and the soft glow of Christmas lights. Every wall was lined with warm golden garlands, fake snow drifted from hidden vents on the ceiling, and the entire place felt like one magical holiday movie scene—except the kind that hides secrets, tension, and eyes that watched too closely.

Students filled the ballroom, drinking, laughing, and taking pictures in front of a massive Christmas tree adorned with red ribbons and glass ornaments. The DJ played loud pop songs, and the smell of vanilla candles mixed with expensive perfumes.

Then I walked out.

The moment I stepped into the party, conversations stopped. Heads turned. Some eyes widened. Some jaws dropped. A few phones lifted slightly.

My heart thumped painfully against my ribs as I adjusted the soft straps of my lingerie-style dress—the one Henry had given me the night before. It shimmered under the lights, hugging my body in a way no dress ever had.

I know I wanted attention and visibility, but attention like this was a curse.

Especially with them around.

Jessica, the leader of the bullies, sat with her friends on one of the couches. The second she saw me, her face froze. Then twisted. Then darkened.

“No fucking way,” she muttered under her breath, loud enough for her girls to hear. “Is this a joke?”

Her friends turned. Their expressions matched hers—shock turning instantly into disgust.

Before I could move away, Jessica stood up sharply and marched straight to me. The crowd watched like they were waiting for a show.

She grabbed the top of my dress—right at the chest, pinching the fabric with two fingers like it was something filthy.

“You got this from where?” she sneered. “A limited-edition Dolce piece? Please. Your intern paycheck can’t even cover the tag.”

My breath caught. “Someone… gave it to me. A gift.”

Jessica blinked—then laughed. Loud. Cruel. The kind of laugh that burned.

“A gift?” She scanned the crowd dramatically. “Who the hell would gift Dolce to a big, huge, fat virgin like her? Hmm? Anyone?”

A few people laughed.

And then someone from the back yelled, “Come on, if anyone’s getting gifts, it’s Jessica—not her! That’s what makes Sarah unworthy!”

My stomach twisted. Heat rushed to my ears.

Jessica whipped her head toward her friend. “Did you hear that?” she asked mockingly. She touched the tip of my dress again. “I’m not letting some knock-off loser ruin my party.”

Her friends stood. All of them. Surrounding me.

“Stop—please,” I whispered, stepping back.

“Take it off!” someone shouted.

“Take it off!” the whole crowd began to chant.

“No, stop! Please—please don’t—” My voice broke.

Jessica smirked. “You heard them.”

The first hand grabbed the strap. Then another. And then all of them lunged.

In seconds, loud ripping sounds tore through the air. My breath vanished. The dress shredded under their fingers, fabric snapping and falling in pieces. Camera flashes erupted around me as students lifted their phones to record everything.

“Stop!” I cried out, trying to cover myself.

They didn’t stop.

They laughed.

They enjoyed it.

Tears blurred my vision as cold air hit my exposed skin.

Then Mara—Jessica’s second-in-command—picked up the largest torn piece of my dress, shook her head dramatically, and said:

“Oops. Looks like it accidentally fell off.”

Before I could react, hands grabbed me again.

“Wait—no—please, I can’t—”

They dragged me toward the pool.

Jessica smirked, lifting her hand like she was tossing a toy.

“Whooa!! Go fetch!”

And they threw me.

The cold water swallowed me whole.

Everything went black for a second as panic took over. I couldn’t swim—I couldn’t even keep my head above water.

I kicked, flailed, and gasped for air, but the weight of the water pulled me down.

Someone please… someone help—

I broke the surface long enough to cry, “Help—I can’t—!”

“Aw, pathetic!” someone yelled.

Laughter echoed from above.

Phones recorded. Light flashed.

I sank again.

And then—through the muffled chaos—I heard my name somewhere in the crowd.

“Sarah!”

A splash hit the water hard. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me upward.

“I got you,” a deep voice said—steady, warm, angry. “Hey… look at me. I got you. It’s okay. Just breathe, alright?”

Xavier.

I gasped against his shoulder as he lifted me completely out of the water and carried me to the edge. My entire body shook violently.

“Thank—thankfully,” I whispered, teeth chattering. “I’m… I’m still alive.”

He sighed sharply, pulled off his shirt, and wrapped it around me. It was warm. It smelled like cedar and winter and something dangerously comforting.

Then Xavier turned.

His expression changed—cold, sharp, furious.

Jessica blinked at him from the other side of the pool. “Xavier, it wasn’t even—”

He didn’t let her finish.

“You should know,” he said, voice low and lethal, “I don’t get involved in catfights.”

The crowd went silent.

“But you,” he continued, “went way too far.”

Before Jessica could react, he bent, scooped her up over his shoulder, and—

SPLASH!

The crowd screamed with laughter as she fell into the pool.

I stared, shocked, shivering, clutching his shirt around me.

Xavier looked at everyone next, his eyes burning.

“Listen, if I see even one of those clips online,” he said, “you’re off the team. Permanently.”

Silence.

Then—everyone handed over their phones without a fight.

He took all of them, dumped them in a box someone brought, and turned back to me.

“Let’s get you inside,” he murmured—and lifted me again. Right off the ground. Into his arms like a doll.

Jessica yelled from the pool, “Xavier! Hey—I’m still here! I’m drowning!”

She wasn’t. She had won prizes in the past as the best swimmer.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t even look at her.

Inside the warm hallway, the noise from the party faded. He carried me through the mansion, down the corridor, and into my room.

He gently set me down. I sat on the edge of the bed, still trembling.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

I glared at him. “Okay… are you just going to stand there watching me change or…?” I pointed toward the bathroom.

His lips curved. “Well, if you insist.”

My jaw dropped. “Xavier—”

“You’re welcome,” he said casually. “For saving your life. Again.”

“I didn’t ask you to play hero,” I snapped.

“You’re still wearing my clothes,” he reminded me. “And that’s the second time I’ve saved you without a thank-you.”

He walked over, grabbed a towel from the couch, and handed it to me.

I snatched it, cheeks burning. “Turn around.”

He turned… mostly. I still felt his eyes peeking once.

I dried myself quickly, pulled on a pair of shorts, and finally muttered, “Done.”

He turned back, walked toward the bed, and sat beside me. Too close. Close enough that my breath caught for a second.

“So…..What do you want?” I whispered, exhausted.

He smiled slightly. “A kiss dear.”

My eyes widened. “What? No. Are you insane?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” I swallowed hard. “Because I love Henry.”

Xavier stiffened.

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

Then he reached into his pocket.

My heart stopped when he pulled out—

My ID card.

The one I never even knew wasn't with me. It must have dropped in his apartment last night.

I gasped, covering my mouth. “How—how did you—?”

His eyes met mine. Dark. Knowing. Too knowing.

“So now,” he said slowly, leaning closer, “are you telling me you’re crushing on your own brother?”