The air shifted.
It wasn't loud. No dramatic gasp from the restaurant. No record scratch.
Just a subtle tightening.
Bianca's smile sharpened.
"Desperate?" she repeated lightly, like she was tasting the word. "That's bold coming from someone who is so dependent and clingy as soon as someone notices her."
Adam's chair scraped softly against the floor.
"Bianca," he said evenly. Warning.
She didn't look at him.
Her eyes stayed locked on Kara.
"I mean," Bianca continued, voice smooth as glass, "you show up wearing someone else's dress, sitting at someone else's table, on someone else's reservation…"
She tilted her head. "It's very… charity-core."
Kara's spine went straight as steel.
Adam's hand twitched on the table.
"You don't have any fucking right to speak to her like that," he said.
Bianca finally looked at him, eyelashes lowering slightly.
"Oh, Adam," she murmured. "I'm just being honest. You always liked honesty."
"Not when it sounds like insecurity," he replied calmly.
That hit.
A flicker in Bianca's eyes. Quick. Almost invisible.
But Kara saw it.
Bianca's gaze snapped back to her.
"You know," she said sweetly, "you really should be thanking me."
"For what?" Kara asked flatly.
"For setting the standard," Bianca replied. "It can't be easy copying someone like me."
Kara let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Trust me," she said. "If I wanted to copy you, i would be working at a strip club right now."
A couple at a nearby table glanced over now. Subtle. Curious.
Bianca leaned closer to the booth, her perfume sharp and expensive.
"You think this is permanent?" she asked quietly. "You think he doesn't get bored?" she grinned. "You think he hasn't played with retarded girls like you before?"
Adam's jaw tightened.
"Stop," he said.
Bianca ignored him.
"Guys like Adam don't end up with girls like you," she continued softly. "Look at yourself. You wear what he buys you, eat what he buys you, live off on what he gives you. If i didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to squeeze him dry."
Kara felt it.
That slow, rising heat behind her ribs.
Not embarrassment.
Not insecurity.
Anger.
"You're right," Kara said calmly.
Bianca blinked.
"I'm not polished," Kara continued. "I don't talk like I swallowed a thesaurus. I don't walk into rooms like I own the lease."
She leaned forward slightly.
"But at least I can actually make something of myself. You're only good for spreading your fucking legs for some punk that pays huh? It's the only way you feel like your worth something to men? Did daddy not treat you good?"
Adam stared at her.
Bianca's lips curved faintly.
"You fucking... BITCH," she said. "you know I'm right so you're just trying to piss me off!"
"No," Kara replied evenly.
Adam almost choked on a laugh.
Bianca straightened.
"I'm trying to help you," she said. "It's embarrassing watching you pretend you belong here."
Kara's fingers curled into her palm.
"I don't pretend," she said.
"Oh?" Bianca's brows lifted. "So this doesn't intimidate you?"
She gestured subtly around them—the chandeliers, the polished glass, the quiet wealth humming in every detail.
Kara glanced around once.
Then back at Bianca.
"No," she said simply.
Bianca's smile flickered for half a second before snapping back into place.
"You're even uglier when you try to be brave," she said.
"And you're way too predictable when you try to be superior," Kara shot back.
Adam's voice cut in, firmer now. "Bianca. Walk away."
She turned slowly toward him, expression cooling.
"You're really choosing this?" she asked.
"I'm not choosing anything," he said. "You walked over here."
There was steel in his voice now.
Bianca's eyes darkened slightly.
"I always knew you had a hero complex," she said. "Guess it finally found a project."
That did it.
Kara stood.
Not dramatically.
Not suddenly.
Just—stood.
The movement drew attention now. A couple of nearby diners openly watching.
"You know what?" Kara said, voice low and steady. "I've been trying really hard to be polite."
Bianca crossed her arms loosely. "That must be exhausting for you."
"It is," Kara agreed.
A beat of silence.
"You keep talking like I'm temporary," Kara continued. "Like I'm some kind of charity case."
She stepped out of the booth fully now.
Adam rose with her instinctively.
"But the only person who sounds insecure right now," Kara added, "is you."
Bianca let out a soft laugh.
"Insecure?" she repeated. "About you?"
"Yeah," Kara said. "Because you wouldn't be standing here if you weren't."
The restaurant had gone noticeably quieter in their section.
Bianca's composure tightened.
"You think you won something?" she asked quietly. "You think sitting in my old seat makes you special?"
Kara tilted her head.
"I don't want your old seat."
Bianca's jaw clenched faintly.
"You don't even belong in this world," she said softly. "You're a wasted bag of goods."
"And you're out of excuses," Kara replied.
Adam reached gently for Kara's wrist. "Kara."
But she was done absorbing.
Bianca leaned in one last time.
"You're so pathetic," she said. "I bet you didn't even get this worked up when your dad raped you."
The words landed heavy making Kara's chest tighten.
He breathing swallowed as memories raced back.
How does she know that?
Kara's fists clenched so toght her knuckles lost all sight of blood.
Kara was tired.
Tired of pretending it didn't sting.
Tired of being measured.
Tired of being underestimated.
She didn't think.
Didn't plan.
Didn't calculate.
Her fist moved before her brain could catch up.
A sharp, solid crack echoed through the corner of the restaurant.
Bianca stumbled back a step, hand flying to her cheek in shock.
Gasps rippled through nearby tables.
Adam's eyes widened.
Kara stood there, chest rising and falling, knuckles stinging, anger still blazing hot in her veins.
THAT FUCKING WHORE!