“Oh please,” she scoffed, voice sharp. “You’re jealous. How does it feel… knowing both Nathan and Gabriel love me now? Your boyfriend, your best friend—they’re mine. And you? You’re nothing.”
I flinched slightly, just enough for her to notice and smirk.
“Really, you should leave this apartment,” she said. “You don’t belong here anymore.”
I turned back to the pot, stirring slowly, ignoring her.
“Still pretending you’re above it all, huh?” she mocked. “Fine, I’ll help cook. The boys will love it.”
I spun toward her. “No, Sabrina. I don’t need help.”
“I’ll make something anyway,” she said cheerfully, grabbing a knife. “Let’s see which they like better—yours or mine.”
She moved closer, chopping quickly and sloppily, clearly on purpose. I stepped aside, letting her continue.
Then—
“Ahhh!” Sabrina yelped, dropping the knife. Blood spread across her fingertip.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath.
But it was too late.
“Nathan! Gabriel!” she screamed. “Help! Oh no—I cut myself! Elena didn’t even try!”
Within seconds, loud footsteps pounded the hallway.
The brothers burst in, alert and panicked.
Nathan lunged to Sabrina’s side. “What happened? Are you okay?”