Chapter 111

"No. What's his name?" Vivian asked, her voice slightly distant.

Though she was speaking to Marcus, her gaze remained fixed on the strikingly handsome, aloof man beside him.

In all her years, she'd only felt this kind of pull toward one other person.

"Julian's gorgeous, isn't he?" Marcus grinned. "From certain angles, he looks just like Nathaniel Blackwood—CEO of Blackwood Group. That's why his fans call him 'Little Nathaniel'—"

"Nathaniel Blackwood?" The name snapped Vivian back to reality. She clenched her jaw and quickly looked away.

Why did that man's name keep haunting her? It was like he was a ghost she couldn't escape!

Marcus, mistaking her reaction for ignorance, eagerly pulled out his phone. "You don't know what Nathaniel looks like? Here, I have a photo—see? Doesn't Julian resemble him?"

Vivian had no interest in looking. All she could think about was her rotten luck.

After finally meeting someone who made her pulse race post-divorce, he had to be her ex-husband's doppelgänger? What kind of cruel joke was this?

Julian, still engrossed in his game, barely spared her a glance. But he scoffed at their conversation. "Of course she knows Nathaniel. He's her husband."

The room fell into stunned silence.

"Wait—this gorgeous woman is Nathaniel Blackwood's wife?!" Marcus paled, immediately stepping back as if she were radioactive.

The other men reacted the same way, staring at Vivian like she was a walking disaster.

"Easy money? Yeah, right," one muttered. "Our agency told us to entertain clients, but no one said we'd be risking our lives with Blackwood's wife! I'm out!"

"Same here!"

In seconds, the room emptied as the men hastily grabbed their jackets and bolted.

Vivian scrambled to stop them. "Wait! There's no need to panic. My husband and I have an understanding—he does his thing, I do mine. No one's getting hurt!"

"Miss, you're amazing, but I value my life," one said, backing away. "Please pretend this never happened!"

With that, they fled as if the room were on fire.

Vivian groaned.

She and Nathaniel weren't publicly divorced yet, so to the world, they were still married. And no one dared cross Nathaniel Blackwood.

This wasn't the first time her identity had ruined a perfectly good night.

The once-lively room was now deserted—except for "Little Nathaniel," still lazily playing his game in the corner.

"Ugh, so boring." Vivian sighed, grabbing her purse to leave.

The man had made her heart skip, but the moment she heard his nickname, the magic vanished.

"Hold on." Julian suddenly paused his game, his sharp gaze locking onto her. "Are you really that desperate for male attention?"

Vivian blinked. "Excuse me?"

Julian stood, revealing his tall, lean frame. Now she understood why he was the group's visual—his presence was magnetic.

"Does your husband know you're out here chasing men?" he drawled, one brow arched.

"What business is it of yours?" Vivian snapped.

This man truly lived up to his nickname. Beyond the resemblance, his icy demeanor, arrogant smirk, and cutting words were identical to Nathaniel's.

This had to be karma.

"It is my business," Julian said coolly.

He stepped closer, his gaze as piercing as Nathaniel's ever was. "You paid for my time. Shouldn't I make sure you get what you came for?" A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "So tell me—how do you want to play?"