My Cheating Wife's Dare Births a New Romance

A stiff silence fell over the room. Just seconds ago, it had been full of jeering laughter and the gloating faces of everyone busy adding to the drama by stirring the pot. Now, it was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

Three whole seconds passed.

"Holy crap!"

"What the heck did I just see? Am I too drunk?"

"Simon, are you out of your mind?"

"Who did he kiss? The intern?"

After the silence came even more chaos than before. Every single person in the room was whipped into a frenzy. The screams and shouts were interspersed with the sounds of people slamming their hands on the table and glasses shattering.

It all came together in a deafening roar.

My wife, Whitney Stuart, shoved Zach Green, her assistant, away hard. Her face turned deathly pale for a split second before turning red with fury. She pointed at me, her finger trembling.

"Simon Lockwood! What the hell do you think you're doing? How dare you cheat on me right to my face? Let go of her! Let her go right now!"

Zach looked just as shocked and infuriated. Yet, deep within his eyes, there was a flicker of annoyance at the fact that I'd ruined his fun, along with smug delight.

I slowly lifted my head and released Cindy Hurst, the intern I'd just kissed. Like a startled deer, she stumbled back a step, covering her mouth. Her cheeks were so red that they looked like apples.

Without looking at her, I slowly wiped the corners of my lips with my thumb before turning to Whitney. In an eerily calm voice, I asked, "Aren't we playing Truth or Dare, Ms. Stuart? I chose dare, so I picked someone to carry out the dare with. What's wrong with that?"

"Why, you…" Whitney trembled hard, so outraged that she could barely speak. "How dare you choose to accept that dare? What gives you the audacity? You could've just accepted the punishment instead! Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Hm?" I raised a brow, my tone mocking. "So you do know the rules of this game, then? Which means you could've conceded earlier and taken three penalty shots instead. So why did you choose to go ahead with the dare? Are the rules of the game different when it comes to you?"

"I…"

Whitney couldn't find the words to retort, her expression growing even uglier before she snapped at me again.

"If you're drunk, Simon, get your ass back to the house. Stop embarrassing me! Just wait until we get home—I'll make you pay for this!"

"I'm not drunk," I replied with a shrug, my expression innocent.