Chapter 138

Nathaniel Blackwood lounged like a king on his throne, his smirk dripping with condescension as he eyed the champagne flute in Vivian Lockhart's hand. The glass sparkled with fresh orange juice instead of alcohol.

"Is this how you demonstrate commitment to our industry?" His voice cut through the air like a whip.

"Commitment shows in actions," Vivian countered sharply, "not in beverages."

She turned gracefully to the assembled executives, her tone softening. "Gentlemen, my apologies for the unconventional choice. A medical condition prevents me from consuming alcohol tonight. Please know this in no way reflects my respect for each of you."

"Juice at a business function?" Nathaniel's laugh held no warmth. "This isn't kindergarten, Ms. Lockhart. The corporate world eats weaklings alive. If you can't handle basic networking, perhaps you should resign now."

The room's atmosphere shifted instantly. Powerful men exchanged glances, calculating which side to choose. Like sharks scenting blood, they turned on Vivian.

"Mr. Blackwood speaks truth! Who drinks juice at these events? Are you mocking us?"

"That directorship position isn't just for show. Did you expect special treatment because you're a woman?"

"If you can't handle alcohol, how will you handle boardroom battles? Maybe you're not cut out for this role."

Nathaniel swirled his bourbon, satisfaction curling his lips. His gaze pinned Vivian like a butterfly to corkboard - something fragile meant for display, not the battlefield.

Vivian's nails bit into her palm. Of course Nathaniel would weaponize this moment. The irony burned - normally she could drink most men under the table. But the tiny life growing inside her changed everything.

'Challenge accepted,' she thought, fury simmering beneath her calm exterior.

"You're absolutely right, Mr. Blackwood. My oversight was unprofessional." Vivian drained her juice in one smooth motion, then reached for the whiskey decanter. She poured two fingers of amber liquid, her eyes never leaving Nathaniel's. "But where's the fun in simple drinking? Let's make it interesting - a quick round of quarters. You win, I'll drink whatever you pour."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Nathaniel's expression frosted over. The CEO of Blackwood Group didn't play bar games - especially not with his ex-wife.

"Suddenly shy?" Vivian taunted, tilting her head. "Or are you afraid to lose to a woman? If so, maybe you're the one unfit for business."

Gasps echoed. The tension crackled like live wires. Onlookers wondered if this was hostility... or some twisted foreplay between former spouses.

Nathaniel's fingers tightened around his glass. "You really want to do this?"

"Absolutely. And the loser grants any request - no limits. Still game?"

"Fine." Nathaniel rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. "Don't come crying to me later."

Elijah Young nearly choked on his drink. Since when did Nathaniel indulge in drinking games? And with Vivian Lockhart of all people? If this wasn't love, what was?

Still, he leaned toward his boss. "Perhaps go easy, sir? Ms. Lockhart seems... inexperienced at this."

Vivian batted her eyelashes. "Yes, Mr. Blackwood. Be gentle with me."

Internally, she smirked. 'Time to wipe that arrogant smirk off your face, Nathaniel.'