Three years of loving him, three days to erase myself from his world novel Chapter 180

Julian rarely entertained childish games.

But tonight...

He glanced at Clara. Suddenly, he pulled her down onto the couch right beside him. His large hand enveloped hers, rubbing her knuckles as he leaned in close. "Want to play?"

Caught off guard, Clara's hand slipped and pressed against his solid thigh. The firm heat of his muscles sent a flush straight to her cheeks. She quickly pulled her hand back, still violently uncomfortable with his touch.

But she knew she had to play her part.

She swallowed her disgust, forcing a sweet, devoted smile as she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "If you want to play, I'll join you."

Julian's eyes darkened. He reached up, gently stroking her soft cheek. "...Then stay with me."

"Okay."

Beatrice watched the nauseating display, nearly biting through her lip in jealousy. She shot a covert, furious look at one of her friends across the room.

The friend nodded in understanding.

The game began. Everyone drew a card. The person with the highest card asked a question or gave a dare to the person with the lowest card.

Round one.

Beatrice drew the lowest card. She flipped her hair confidently and chose 'Dare.'

The winner—her friend—smirked. "I dare you to passionately kiss one of the men in this room for three full minutes!"

The room erupted in howling laughter and catcalls. All eyes darted excitedly between Beatrice, Julian, and Clara.

The friend intentionally hadn't specified which man.

Clara sat rigidly under the mocking, pitying stares, a suffocating wave of humiliation crashing over her.

Julian had brought her here just to publicly humiliate her. He was punishing her for pushing him away.

She lowered her head, her eyes burning red. She grabbed her glass and took a sharp sip of whiskey, the liquid burning like fire down her throat.

Beatrice shot Clara a victorious sneer and sashayed straight toward Julian.

Julian scowled. Without a word, he wrapped his heavy arm around Clara's waist, pulling her flush against his side. The sheer size difference between his massive hand and her tiny waist made for a striking, aggressively territorial display.

Beatrice froze in her tracks, realizing she had been shut down.

To save face and avoid total humiliation, she forced a laugh and sat back down.

"Julian and I aren't quite at that stage yet, it wouldn't be appropriate..."

The implication was heavy.

*Not appropriate until he dumps the trash next to him.*

The room snickered, shooting Clara looks of blatant disgust.

Clara wasn't stupid. She understood the insult perfectly. She clenched her jaw and threw back the rest of her whiskey. Her hand trembled slightly as she set the empty glass down.

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