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The rooftop of the Royalty Hotel was an eerie tableau beneath the scattered, indifferent city lights. A brisk wind whipped at the loose strands of Gabriella's dark hair, but she stood as still and cold as the marble balustrade. Around her, chaos lay frozen.
Anitta was slumped near a discarded champagne bucket, her hands tightly bound behind her with what looked like expensive silk cording. A little further away, Harry was a dark, unmoving heap on the concrete, clearly unconscious. The most horrifying sight, however, was Erica, who let out a low, ragged moan. She lay splayed, her face pressed against the jagged remnants of a shattered wine bottle, the crimson stain spreading slowly on the grey floor—a raw, sickening symbol of the brutal night.
Gabriella had been watching them all, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. Her work was done. She turned to leave, her sleek silhouette framed momentarily against the glittering cityscape.
Flash!
A blinding white light exploded from the darker, taller building across the street, followed by the rapid-fire click of a camera shutter. Gabriella stopped dead. She hadn't accounted for an audience. Her eyes narrowed, piercing the gloom above the opposite structure.
Before she could process the threat, a figure detached itself from the dark edge of that building. With a terrifying grace that defied gravity, a tall, agile figure vaulted the gap and landed silently just a few yards away.
Gabriella's composure finally broke. Her eyes widened, a flicker of pure shock crossing her face.
"Jake," she breathed, the name a whisper of disbelief.
He was a stunning apparition in the dim, industrial light of the rooftop. His golden hair seemed to catch every available beam, giving him an almost ethereal, yet menacing, glow. A smirk—wide, arrogant, and unsettling—stretched across his face.
"How do you plan to erase this proof, Gabriella?" he purred, a predatory tone underlying his smooth voice. He winked, flashing his smartphone at her. The screen was a damning montage of the destruction—a crystal-clear, high-definition record of everything that had just transpired.
Gabriella was momentarily stunned, her mind scrambling to catch up. As Jake sauntered closer, his smile transforming into something utterly villainous, she saw the video playing. She lunged, a sudden, sharp motion to snatch the phone, but Jake was quicker. He simply raised his arm, holding the expensive device tantalizingly out of her reach.
The moment of panic passed. Gabriella did not try again. Instead, a slow, dangerous smile curved her lips.
"Do you truly think this evidence fears me?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low, seductive register. She leaned in until their faces were inches apart, her dark eyes locking with his. "It will not."
Jake's smile faltered, replaced by an expression of sharp, intense curiosity. "Who are you, exactly?"
Gabriella laughed, a short, humorless sound. "You watched the pendrive, didn't you?" she countered, her smile vanishing. Her expression hardened. "Then why did you ask me? You know it right, who I am."
Jake flipped his golden hair back with a casual, almost bored gesture. "I didn't watch that video on the pendrive," he confessed, his expression utterly sincere.
Gabriella didn't reply immediately, her eyes searching his face for the lie. Jake smiled again, a soft, charming smile that looked utterly out of place on the brutal rooftop. "I swear."
She narrowed her eyes, a muscle twitching in her jaw. "Then watch it."
In a lightning-quick move, Jake grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against him. The surprise of the contact made Gabriella gasp. "But…" he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, "…I want to hear it from yourself. Who are you? That's far more interesting."
Gabriella violently pushed him away, the raw power of her anger fueling the motion. She backed up a step, her lip bitten almost to bleeding, but then her face transformed into a triumphant, cold grin. In her hand, she held a small, black object—the pendrive. With a snap of her wrist, she threw it at his chest.
"Liar," she hissed.
Jake effortlessly caught the pendrive. He examined it with a playful tilt of his head. "This is a nice movie, right, Gabriella?"
"I know how to get back that pendrive and your phone, too," she warned, her voice laced with chilling promise. With that, she turned to leave for good.
As she reached the door to the staircase, she paused and looked back at Anitta, who was struggling desperately against her bonds.
"Hey," Gabriella's voice was sharp as a shard of ice. "If you dare to tell what happened here, you will get into trouble. Because… your and your friends' camera footage of bullying other students is with me." She smirked, a cruel, final gesture.
"Ooo," Jake mused, admiring her from afar. Even as an enemy, her ruthlessness was captivating.
Anitta froze, the fight draining from her completely. The warning was not a threat; it was a promise of destruction.
The New Beginning
Gabriella's house was a sanctuary of wealth and polished silence. She was in her sleek, modern kitchen, already on the phone with Dona, the incident on the rooftop an invisible shroud around her.
"Yes, it was him there, too," Gabriella said, pouring herself a glass of water.
A sharp, shocked sound came from the other end. "Jake? What will you do if he shows that video to others? Or the police?" Dona's voice was frantic.
Gabriella took a slow sip, her face utterly devoid of emotion. "He won't," she stated in a voice cold enough to freeze.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because he wants to fear me, not trap me. Look—he had the pendrive, didn't he? Did he use that to trap me? No, right? He won't use this video either."
"But—"
"Before he would do anything, I have to take back the evidence from him and destroy it," Gabriella interrupted, her plan already forming.
"Then how did you handle the rooftop matter?" Dona asked, still confused.
Gabriella let out a short, cynical laugh. "You didn't know? Look at the flash news on the internet." With that, she hung up the phone.
Dona immediately snatched her own device, searching with trembling fingers. Her eyes widened as she read the headline.
Flash News: Brighton Wisdom School Students Attacked by Street Fighters! The article detailed how a group of affected students from other schools had finally snapped, ambushing the notorious bullies—Erica, Harry, and Anitta—in a retaliatory strike. The police were supposedly "searching for the culprits."
Upstairs, Gabriella stood in front of her full-length mirror. She studied her face—the flawless skin, the sharp angles of her jaw. A wave of profound sadness, a rare and fleeting emotion, crossed her features.
She whispered to the reflection, a low, intense sound of self-loathing. "Because of you, I lost my old face."
The door creaked open, and her mother, Roselette, entered. Roselette's face was soft with concern.
"Are you alright, my dear?"
Gabriella instantly plastered a bright, false smile on her face. "Yes, Mom."
"Forget everything, sweetheart. Start a new beginning."
Gabriella's smile widened, but the light in her eyes was chillingly deceptive. She leaned closer to the mirror, letting her voice drop to a dangerous, barely audible whisper as she answered her mother.
"Of course. My new beginning is the ending for them."