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The night air was sharp, carrying the muffled thrum of the party from the house behind me. Liam Sterling stepped from the shadows, his frame cutting a clean line against the amber glow of the streetlights. He watched you walk away, a slow, appreciative smirk touching his lips as the image of your bold retaliation against Mason replayed in his mind. Struck by your nerve, he quickened his stride, the polished leather of his shoes marking a precise rhythm on the pavement. He closed the gap, his voice a low, clear note in the quiet street.