Chapter 77

Julian Montgomery had every intention of humiliating the two arrogant heirs, Nathaniel Blackwood and Oliver Prescott.

That's why when handing out the numbered slips earlier, he deliberately gave number 6 to Oliver.

Just imagine. Two scions of Newport City's Elite Eight families locking lips for thirty seconds. What a scandalous spectacle. It would become legendary.

"Who has number six? Stand up now!"

Julian scanned the group knowingly, though he already had his answer.

Oliver, known for his fiery temper, shot up immediately. "Who the hell do you think you are? Trying to embarrass my brother? You got a death wish?"

Julian remained unfazed. The threat meant nothing to him.

As a top litigator for years, he'd faced all kinds of powerful people. Even those above Oliver Prescott's paygrade showed him respect.

"If you play the game, you accept the consequences. Since you gentlemen chose to join, you'll follow the rules."

Pulling out his phone, Julian activated the stopwatch. "Chop chop, boys. It's just a kiss. Two handsome men like you? Could be magazine cover material."

All eyes turned to the pair.

The pressure mounted.

Oliver cleared his throat dramatically. "Why's everyone staring at me? I'm not number six."

He turned to Nathaniel with mock sympathy. "Bro, take your pick. Plenty of decent-looking girls here. Thirty seconds won't kill you. But if number six turns out male, I'll flip this damn table myself!"

"Wait, you're not six?" Julian's brow furrowed. "What's your number then?"

"Take a good look. It's nine!" Oliver slammed his slip onto the table.

Indeed, it showed number nine.

Julian's jaw dropped. He'd made a critical error - mistaking the upside-down nine for a six.

But retreat wasn't an option now. "Then who has six? Step forward!"

At least watching the ice-cold CEO kiss someone would still be entertaining.

"Not me!"

"Not me either!"

Everyone displayed their slips - except Vivian Lockhart, who sat frozen with pink-tinged cheeks.

The answer became obvious.

Oliver exhaled loudly. "Lucky you, bro. Just your wife. Go ahead and plant one on her."

Nathaniel's gaze settled on Vivian. His expression remained unreadable. "I agreed to play. I'll accept the consequences."

He remembered those lips - perfectly plump, jelly-soft. That first taste had haunted him.

Recently he'd realized something: while he despised intimacy with women, with her it was different. Anticipated, even.

All eyes shifted to Vivian.

Their new boss and his wife of years - surely a kiss was nothing unusual between them?

Vivian drew a deep breath and finally looked up - not at Nathaniel, but at Julian. "This punishment is utterly boring."

Meaning: kissing Nathaniel would be boring.

Wasn't that... public humiliation?