Larissa's POV
"Or what exactly?" the blonde woman taunted, her arms folded defiantly across her chest. "You planning to splash your fancy cocktails on us?"
"Don't push me," Denise snarled, leaning forward with barely contained rage.
The first woman's lips curved into a cold smile. "We're simply trying to spare your friend some inevitable pain. Carson Gary has a very specific preference, you know. Beautiful, gullible, and easy to control."
"I am not easy to control," I shot back, my fingers curling into tight fists at my sides.
"Oh sweetie, that's precisely what every manipulated woman believes," the blonde responded with manufactured pity dripping from her voice.
Rosemary stepped protectively closer to my side. "Listen, we don't know who you think you are, and honestly, we couldn't care less. But you've completely destroyed our evening and ruined my friend's shirt, so kindly leave us alone."
"Force us to," the first woman dared, raising her chin with brazen confidence.
