Seri's POV
I had been searching for Mark all over this damn party, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, my eyes landed on that loudmouthed girl from earlier—what was her name again? Cassie.
Oh, perfect. That Cassie—the one always hanging around that Barbie wannabe.
I strode toward her, heels clicking against the floor, my gaze shamelessly traveling from her fake lashes down to her ridiculous outfit. Lingerie? At a birthday party? My brows arched in mock surprise.
"Wow… don't tell me you're one of the strippers," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Cassie folded her arms, glaring. "Yeah, and? Got a problem with that?"
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Didn't know you worked the pole for a living. Good to know." I tilted my head, letting the smirk linger. This was the girl Dylan defended over me? Pathetic.
The thought alone made my blood simmer. If only people knew Barbie's bestie was grinding for dollar bills. This was better than gossip—this was ammunition.
