Olivia tilted her left cheek towards the camera for Mara to see. The faint red marks were still visible, traces of a recent altercation.
But that wasn't even the main issue. The woman who slapped her was a mob boss's daughter?
"Olivia, tell me you haven't gotten tangled up with the local gang?" Mara's voice was laced with concern and a hint of disbelief.
"How was I supposed to know! I thought getting slapped was the end of it, but she threatened to get her dad's goons on me. Mara, what do I do? I'm freaking out. What if, when you get back, I'm... I'm just gone?" Olivia's voice trembled, teetering on the edge of panic.
Mara tried to keep her irritation in check. "Calm down and stop crying. Did that guy even tell you he was single when you met him?"
Olivia hesitated, her memory foggy. "I think he did... You know how I get when I drink, I just... I don't pay attention."
Mara's patience was wearing thin. "I've told you a million times not to get wasted when you're out, but you never listen. Now you're in trouble because you didn't even bother to find out if the guy was available before you jumped into bed with him? You made your bed, now lie in it."
Olivia had called her best friend hoping for some advice, not a lecture. Anger flared within her. "I didn't do it on purpose! If you were here, would I be out with someone else? It's only because you ditched me. And now you're all cozy with your Balfour, forgetting all about your best friend!"
Mara couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of Olivia's logic. How was her partying her fault? And now, Olivia was turning it around on her? "So, what's your grand plan? You've already stirred up trouble. What do you expect me to do? You just called to vent, didn't you?"
But before Olivia could continue, she noticed a change in Mara's expression—her eyes had shifted, focused on something—or someone—off-screen.
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