NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 95

Chapter 95: Dangerous Game!

“J-just drink the… alcohol…”

Lui’s voice dwindled into a pathetic whisper by the end, like a deflated balloon. Deep down, he was certain his wife was about to spill some ugly fucking truth he wasn’t ready to hear.

Something gnawed at his insides—a sinking feeling that made his gut churn like he’d swallowed a blender set to “puree.”

He didn’t know when this suspicion had started, but he damn well knew something was off. These two were too close, like a pair of horny teenagers hiding in the back of a movie theater.

This wasn’t how it used to be. Sure, he was always drunk and barely aware of what day it was, but he knew the general vibe of his own damn house. And this? This wasn’t the vibe.

‘What the fuck is going on here? Are they…’

His brain took a sharp left turn into Nightmare Boulevard, replaying scenes from yesterday.

Even though he’d hallucinated it—vivid, boozy daydreams of Juliana and Artis fighting like animals—Lui just couldn’t picture it happening in real life. Could he?

‘No, fuck no.’

But then again… Juliana wasn’t some delicate flower. She was a full-blown MILF, a mature goddess in every sense of the word. And as much as Lui hated to admit it, he hadn’t touched her in decades. Hell, his hand probably got more action than she did.

‘Wouldn’t she have needs? Wouldn’t she want to feel wanted? Desired? Fucked senseless? Shit… why the hell am I thinking about this now? Am I… am I too fucking late?’

Lui’s brain spiraled into chaos, a carousel of wild, booze-fueled thoughts spinning faster than his liver could detox.

‘Artis isn’t related to her.’

He reminded himself, though that fact wasn’t exactly comforting.

‘And they’ve never had a positive relationship, right?’

But his gaze wandered to Artis, all muscles and smug confidence, and the cruel truth hit like a kick to the nuts.

‘Damn… the guy looks like a fucking Greek god, and me?’

He glanced down at his own skeletal frame with a balloon stomach, the tragic remains of too many nights spent drowning in cheap liquor.

His ribs poked out like they were trying to escape, and his stomach was inflated like he was pregnant with triplets, leaving nothing but skin and regret.

‘Fuck, she’d probably scream and run for the hills if she saw me naked again.’

His mind took a nosedive straight into paranoia.

‘It’s too late. All my chances are gone. She’s gonna spill my secrets— the size of my cock, my lack of stamina, maybe even the fact I cried during sex that one time.’

He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

‘And Artis? That smug bastard is gonna laugh his ass off. He’ll tease me about it until I die. Hell, even in my afterlife, this prick’s ghost will be hovering around, reminding me I was hung like a hamster.’

Lui swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

‘Fuck my life. This is how it ends.’

It wasn’t just Lui sitting there in his pitiful stew of insecurities—Artis was practically vibrating with smug anticipation, ready to pounce the moment Juliana answered.

He was living for this shit. The idea of mocking Lui for chickening out, wasting a drink just to dodge a truth or dare? Oh, Artis was going to milk that for years.

His grin was so wide it could cut glass, and he kept throwing side-eye glances at Lui like, Yeah, you’re about to get fucked, old man.

Juliana, meanwhile, was clearly enjoying the show. She giggled softly, her eyes darting between the two.

One was all confidence, youth, and abs for days; the other was… well, Lui—saggy, skeletal, and looking like he’d die if someone sneezed on him too hard.

With a wicked smirk that could melt hearts, Juliana opened her mouth, making both men lean in like idiots desperate for scraps.

“I… am going to take the drink.”

She purred, grabbing the bottle with a flourish like she’d just declared victory in a courtroom drama.

Artis’s face froze mid-smug. For a split second, he looked like someone had slapped the taste out of his mouth.

But then he recovered, plastering on an even crueler smile, one that screamed, Oh, this game just got interesting, bitch.

Lui, on the other hand, let out a visible sigh of relief, slumping back in the table, as if he’d just avoided execution. For now.

Juliana wasted no time pouring herself a shot, lifting the glass to her lips while maintaining unbroken eye contact with Artis.

Her smirk never wavered, even as her entire body jerked from the liquid fire invading her mouth.

She slammed the glass back down on the table, blinking rapidly as the alcohol worked its way through her system like a punch to the gut.

Artis leaned back, crossing his arms with a predatory grin.

“Strong, huh?”

Juliana wiped her lips and shot him a look.

“Strong enough to remind me why I don’t play bullshit games with boys who think they’re men.”

Lui snorted so hard he nearly choked. Artis raised a brow, the challenge in Juliana’s words lighting up his competitive streak like gasoline on a bonfire.

Artis was pissed, but not the kind of pissed that led to storming off—oh no, this was the fun kind of pissed.

The kind where his brain was already planning ten different ways to turn the tables and make Juliana squirm, in more ways than one.

If she wanted to play with fire, he was about to bring a fucking flamethrower.

‘Alright, Mommy, if you’re gonna be a tease, don’t blame me when shit gets real.’

Lui’s clapping snapped him out of his plotting. The skeleton-man was grinning like he’d just won a prize at the carnival.

“Thank you, Juliana!”

Lui’s voice was practically trembling with gratitude.

“You’ve made the right choice! A-and, uh, for the record, I was never worried.”

Inside, though, Lui was on cloud nine.

‘Yes! She chose my dignity over this meathead’s games! There’s still hope for me. She doesn’t need abs and muscles and a big… wait, why the fuck am I thinking about his dick again?!’

But no matter how hard he tried to banish the thought, it crept back in, along with the memory of that ridiculous scene he’d stumbled upon—

Artis’s colossal, throbbing cock—longer than Juliana’s entire face, veins bulging like a roadmap to humiliation, the head just barely brushing against her lips.

“Fuck!”

Lui whispered to himself, violently shaking his head like he could physically slap the mental image out of existence.

He forced his gaze back to reality just in time to see Artis spin the bottle, the glass neck gleaming like it was about to deliver some karmic justice. And oh, it did.

The nose of the bottle pointed straight at Lui.

The flat end? Right at Artis.

Artis’s grin widened, sharp and dangerous, like a predator who’d just cornered its prey. His eyes met Lui’s, and it was clear as day what he was thinking:

‘You were laughing just a second ago, weren’t you? Feeling all high and mighty ’cause your wife didn’t sell your pathetic ass out? Well, guess what, twig boy? It’s my turn.’

The man had been riding the smallest fucking victory imaginable—Juliana choosing booze over ratting him out—but for him, it was like winning a goddamn Olympic gold medal.

And it all came crashing down just as quickly as it came.

‘She still feels something for me. I’m sure of it!’

He thought, chest puffing out like a rooster in a henhouse. He took a deep breath.

‘So what if Artis is younger, built like a fucking marble statue, and probably hung like a horse? I’ve got history! I’ve got charm! I’ve got… oh, fuck it, I’ve got a shot!’

He took a deep breath, fully convinced he was untouchable now.

‘What’s he gonna do? Damage my ego? Ha! Juliana already knows every inch of me. Every. Sad. Inch. And she still chose me over that smug bastard.’

He shot Juliana a confident smile, the kind that screamed, I’m a man reborn, baby. She smiled back, though her gaze quickly returned to Artis, lingering on him like a cat watching a canary.

Artis, catching that look, raised a brow. The corner of his mouth curled up in a slow, deliberate smirk that practically said, Oh, you think this is over? Sweet summer child…

“What wou—”

“DARE!”

Lui bellowed, cutting Artis off mid-sentence like he’d just declared war.

Artis blinked. Then he chuckled, low and dangerous.

“Very well.”

He said, nodding his head like a man about to unleash hell.

Juliana’s eyes flicked between the two men, clearly torn between amusement and secondhand embarrassment for her husband.

“Since you two lovebirds are so madly in love…”

He let his gaze linger on Juliana, who returned it with a smug smile that practically screamed, I’ve got you wrapped around my finger, you cocky brat.

“…why don’t you prove it, Lui? Lift her up in your arms. Show us all what a real man you are!”