“My status? And what exactly is my status?” A dangerous glint flickered in Lucas's dark eyes.

The enraged Becky was oblivious to the looming threat, and she continued heedlessly, "Of course, you have a prestigious status. But people might think there's something wrong with your taste what with you being involved with someone like her. Someone like her is only fit to be with the poor—"

Before she could finish, her friend urgently tugged at her sleeve.

“What are you doing? I wasn’t done talking!”