Sabrina could tell Desmond was finally taking her words to heart, so she didn’t push any further. She’d already said and done what needed to be done.
Now, it was time for Celine to get a taste of what it felt like to be left behind.
Desmond’s deep-set eyes rested on Sabrina, recognizing that her mind worked much like his—sharp, always thinking a few moves ahead. Then he glanced at Sommer, who only ever fussed over petty, meaningless things.
“I’m going to make sure the Foster girl apologizes to you. This isn’t something we can just let slide.”
The more Desmond thought about it, the angrier he became. Sabrina was his daughter, after all. How could anyone dare speak about her in such a disgraceful way?
Even though he and Dylan did business together and were on good terms, what the Foster girl had done was beyond the pale. He couldn’t just turn a blind eye. If he did, things would only get worse.
Just as Sabrina had said: if he let this go, everyone would think they could walk all over him, treat him like he didn’t matter.
“Fine,” he said, his voice cold. “I’ll expect her apology tomorrow, and compensation too. I won’t accept a penny less.”
Sabrina glanced upstairs, a chilling smile playing at the corner of her lips. “As for those trolls online, I’ve already handed it over to the lawyers. Their accounts will be banned, and the main instigators who spread the rumors will have to apologize to me in person.”
Desmond frowned, surprised by how thorough she was. “Alright. Handle it however you see fit. If there’s anything you can’t deal with, let me know.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
Desmond rubbed his brow, feeling the weight of it all. “I’ll talk to Dylan about this first.” He paused, then reminded her again, “If you run into trouble at school, you need to let us know right away.”
Sabrina headed upstairs to her room.
She pulled open a drawer and took out a well-worn notebook, its pages covered in tiny, meticulous handwriting. Names, places, events—each entry marked with precision.
On the very first page, the name Holly was slashed through with a bold red X.
Her first enemy—dealt with by her own hand.
Who was next?
Giselle?
Marshall?
Or perhaps…
The list was long. Some hadn’t even shown their faces yet. Others were little more than ghosts.
Sabrina, she thought bitterly, was a master at twisting the truth.
And her father—how could he be so blind? Why was he insisting Elena apologize?
Right now, her dad was probably already reaching out to Dylan.
What should she do?
In the end, her father cared too much about appearances. She’d promised Elena that she’d get her dad to put Sabrina in her place. But instead of rebuking Sabrina, her father had let things circle right back to where they started.
Frustrated, Celine grabbed her phone and typed out everything that had just happened, sending it to her group chat with her three close friends.
Meanwhile, Desmond was in his study, talking things over with Dylan.
After ten minutes of back-and-forth, Desmond let out a weary sigh.
“Mr. Foster, I know this all started as a spat between the girls, but Elena’s words really crossed a line. Sabrina is, after all, the Sutton family’s daughter. No matter what happened, those things shouldn’t have been said.”
On the other end, Dylan was fuming. Idiot, he thought. Why on earth did Elena have to pick a fight with Sabrina?

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