Kali entered the gym with fake confidence. She wore a fitted black top and high-waisted leggings that made her figure look even more amazing. Hair in a high ponytail, lips with a touch of gloss. Ready to impress.
"Come on, goddess, show Baxter what he's missing," she told herself in the mirror before stepping into the weight room.
And there he was. Baxter. Tall, well-built, intense gaze. He was lifting weights with some friends, laughing with that "I'm cool but not trying too hard" vibe. Kali walked like she was on a runway.
She approached the squat machine.
"Can I use this?" she asked with a subtle smile, not looking directly at him.
"Of course," he replied, winking at her.
Everything was going fine... until she added more weight than she could handle just to impress him.
Kali lowered herself gracefully, but as she tried to come back up... her legs trembled. The strain was too much. A loud "crack!" was heard, and she fell flat on her butt in front of everyone.
"Owww! My dignity!" she groaned from the floor, arms spread like she was waiting to be lifted by angels.
Baxter came over to her, hiding a chuckle.
"You okay?"
"Am I? Or did I just break my soul and my legs at the same time?" she complained dramatically.
She stood up with his help, red as a tomato. Her seduction mission was officially over. After a few awkward stretches and a couple of sit-ups with a pained expression, she headed to the locker room.
The hot shower was the only thing that made her feel human again. She closed her eyes, let the water fall over her, and for a moment, allowed herself to forget the embarrassment.
But when she came out wrapped in a towel, her soul left her body once more.
"Where... is my clothes?"
She searched the benches, the hooks, behind the showers. Nothing. No clothes, no backpack. Only a note on the bench:
"You probably look better without anything, slut."
Her fingers trembled. She stormed out of the locker room like a furious whirlwind in a towel, searching for answers.
Outside, in the back hallway of the gym, she found a small crowd. And at the center, phone raised high, was Vanessa.
Vanessa: the perfect girl, rich, with a cruel tone hidden behind fake lashes. And more importantly, Niccolo's number one stalker. She and Kali hated each other with ancient passion.
"Look at her! Princess in a towel! Looking for attention or dignity, Kali?" Vanessa laughed, filming with her friends.
"Give me my clothes, bitch," Kali spat, rage building in her chest.
"Awww, such manners. Want them back, or should I auction them on TikTok first?"
The whispers and snickering from the crowd didn't help. Some were filming. Others laughed. Kali's heart pounded—not from shame, but pure anger.
Then Niccolo appeared.
"What the hell is going on here?" he asked, his voice sharp like a blade through the air.
He pushed his way through. When he saw Kali, barely covered by the towel, his gaze turned to ice.
"Vanessa? Are you completely insane?"
"Oh, Nicco... we were just having fun," she said, sweetening her voice. He didn't even look at her.
"Give me the fucking phone," he ordered.
"You don't have the right to—" she began.
But before she could finish, someone yanked her hair from behind.
"Give her back her clothes," said Dahlia, calm and firm. Her hand gripped Vanessa's fake ponytail tightly.
Vanessa shrieked and turned, furious, but when she met Dahlia's stare, she backed off.
There was something in her eyes that didn't invite a fight.
"You're crazy!"
"And you're stupid. The clothes. Now."
Muttering insults, Vanessa tossed a bag with Kali's clothes. Kali rushed back inside the gym, disappearing into the locker room to get dressed as quickly as possible.
Meanwhile, in the hallway, Niccolo and Dahlia stood face to face. It was the first real conversation they'd ever had.
"Nice gear shift move with Vanessa's hair," he said with a crooked smile.
Dahlia let out a small laugh.
"I think I ripped part of her wig. She should check it. Wouldn't want her saying I left her bald without warning."
Niccolo looked at her with interest.
"I knew you were interesting, but I didn't know you could fight dirty. I like it."
"Only when it's deserved," Dahlia replied, glancing toward the locker room.
Kali finally came out, dressed again, face still red but with her dignity partially restored.
"Thanks... to both of you," she murmured, looking at Dahlia first, then at Niccolo.
"Let's get out of here," he said, and she nodded.
As they headed toward Niccolo's car, Dahlia hung back a few steps.
"Coming with us?" Kali asked.
"No. I'd rather walk. I need some air," Dahlia replied with a calm smile.
Kali nodded. Niccolo looked back at her once more before opening the passenger door for Kali.
"Nice move, Dahlia," he said with a wink.
She just raised an eyebrow.
"Take care of your principessa."
And she walked down the street, leaving behind the scandal—and something else that was beginning to shift between the three of them.