Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Ivy Sherwood knew Jenna would lash out in embarrassment and try some petty trick. As Jenna lunged forward, Ivy deliberately jabbed the cue stick behind her, with no intention of actually hitting a ball.

But her forceful jab backward landed squarely in Jenna Kent’s stomach.

"Ah!" Jenna Kent cried out, clutching her stomach. It felt as if Ivy had just tried to poke her insides out.

Ivy feigned embarrassment. "Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you. But what were you doing getting so close? Trying to push me?"

Seeing her little scheme exposed, Jenna Kent grew flustered. "Don’t you dare slander me! Why would I push you?"

"Who knows? But if that’s not the case, please stay a little farther away. I’d hate to accidentally hurt you."

Jenna Kent hadn’t expected Ivy Sherwood to be so difficult. She scrambled for another excuse. "You just took your shot. Now it’s my turn."

Ivy Sherwood chuckled. "If you’re going to try and weasel out of this, at least find a better excuse. I haven’t taken my shot yet. I just did a practice swing. Is that not allowed?"

Seeing Jenna Kent glaring, Ivy Sherwood asked, "Not convinced? Why don’t we ask them if that counted as a shot? If everyone thinks you’re such a sore loser that they have to insist that was a shot, then I suppose I can let you have it."

After Ivy Sherwood said that, how could Jenna Kent possibly dare to claim Ivy had taken her shot?

Ivy Sherwood indeed hadn’t taken a shot. She had only intentionally jabbed Jenna Kent.

Someone from the sidelines chimed in, "Jenna, I really want to be on your side, and I hope you win, but Ivy really didn’t take a shot just now."

"Yeah, she hadn’t even started yet. Jenna Kent, it seems the skills you learned as the ’protégé of a billiards master’ aren’t all that impressive."

"So, may I take my shot now?" Ivy Sherwood asked, looking at Jenna Kent.

Jenna Kent bit her lip, fuming but with nowhere to vent her anger.

’What do I do? What do I do? I don’t want to take off my clothes! I absolutely refuse to strip in front of so many people!’

’Maybe I can pretend to faint, or say my stomach hurts and I need to go to the hospital?’

’It’s not exactly honorable, but at least I can protect my dignity. It’s better than being humiliated by stripping.’

Just as Jenna Kent was plotting her escape, she heard a wave of gasps and cheers.

It turned out that while she was busy thinking of a way out, Ivy Sherwood had sunk the ball in a single, clean shot.

She had lost. She had lost without even getting a chance to play.

Ivy Sherwood set down the cue stick and looked at her. "Are you going to strip, or should I help you?"

"No... no..." Jenna Kent shook her head, unable to believe she had lost just like that. What would happen to her reputation as a billiards master’s disciple? Wouldn’t she become a laughingstock if this got out?

And how could she possibly take her clothes off in front of so many people? She quickly covered her chest. "Ivy Sherwood, don’t be so aggressive!"

"How am I being aggressive? You set the rules, you made the bet, and you took the first shot. Don’t you know who’s really being aggressive here?"

When Ivy Sherwood said that, the others all felt Jenna was going too far. Ivy had been completely passive in this.

"You were just trying to target me from the start, you just didn’t expect to lose."

Jenna Kent looked at the crowd, then back at Ivy. "Ivy Sherwood, can I just apologize? It’s true, I was targeting you, but I didn’t mean any harm. Can we just forget about the stripping? I’m sorry, it’s all my fault."

But Ivy Sherwood had no intention of forgiving her. "If I had lost, would you have let me get away with not stripping? You wouldn’t. You’d just feel like you’d accomplished your goal, and you’d humiliate me even more to please Joy Sheridan. If you can’t handle the stakes, you shouldn’t have made the bet in the first place."

Jenna Kent shook her head frantically. "I was wrong, I was really wrong, Ivy. It wasn’t my idea, I swear! Joy Sheridan told me to come humiliate you! She said she wanted to teach you a lesson! This is my only formal dress, I can’t take it off."

"You..." Joy Sheridan was stunned. She couldn’t believe Jenna Kent had turned around and sold her out. ’That little bitch.’

At this point, Jenna Kent had completely burned her bridges with Joy Sheridan. Besides, Jenna still had a bellyful of grievances. She pointed directly at Joy. "It was her!"

She was originally helping Joy. She had no grudge against Ivy; Joy was the one who told her to teach Ivy a lesson.

Besides, Joy had just tried to make her French kiss that ugly guy. Was that not intentional?

’There were so many men here, so many handsome guys besides Quentin Blackwood, but Joy just had to pick someone like *that* for her. Joy started it first, so why couldn’t she sell her out in return?’

Ivy Sherwood looked at her. "Is that so?"

"Jenna Kent!" Joy Sheridan yelled her name.

Jenna nodded. "Yes, she made me do it all! She likes Quentin Blackwood, and she thinks you stole her man!"

Joy Sheridan never imagined Jenna Kent would betray her. She marched over and slapped Jenna across the face. "What nonsense are you spewing? Jenna Kent, you’re the one who wanted to target Ivy Sherwood, and now you’re trying to pin it on me? Do you want to be blackballed from this circle?"

Jenna Kent stared at Joy Sheridan in disbelief. She was helping Joy, and Joy actually hit her.

But Jenna didn’t dare to hit Joy back. After all, her family was no match for Joy’s.

There was nothing Jenna could do; she had to swallow this grievance. But now she still had to face stripping. ’This is all Joy’s fault, so why should I be the one to suffer?’

Just then, Ivy Sherwood spoke up. "She just hit you, and you’re going to take that? How about this: give Joy Sheridan a hard slap—one that’ll leave a clear handprint on her face—and you won’t have to strip. What do you say?"

"Ivy Sherwood!" Joy Sheridan glared venomously at Ivy.

They had come here to humiliate Ivy Sherwood, but instead, they were the ones getting humiliated by her.

"Don’t you—AH!"

Before Joy Sheridan could finish, a vicious slap landed squarely on her face, leaving her completely stunned.

Joy Sheridan stared at Jenna Kent in disbelief. That little bitch had actually listened to Ivy Sherwood and hit her.

In her entire life, other than the slap she’d gotten from Ivy Sherwood before, no one had ever dared to hit her.

And Jenna Kent’s slap had been so heavy.

"Jenna Kent, I’ll kill you, you little bitch!" Joy shrieked, lunging forward. The two of them began to grapple and fight, losing any semblance of the well-bred young ladies they were supposed to be. They were more chaotic than a pair of brawling shrews on the street.

Meanwhile, Ivy Sherwood stood off to the side, smiling as she watched the farce. Effortlessly, she had set the two of them at each other’s throats, dog eat dog.

Both of them making such a scene was incredibly undignified. Especially for someone like Joy Sheridan, a high and mighty young miss. If word of this got out, it would be a huge embarrassment.

By the time the two of them came to their senses, they realized they seemed to have been played yet again.

They had meant to teach Ivy Sherwood a lesson, but in the end, not only was Ivy completely unscathed, she had even won a wave of approval and goodwill. Meanwhile, the two of them had slapped each other silly and ended up in this state.

When Joy Sheridan finally processed what had happened, rage surged within her.

’This is only the beginning,’ she thought. ’There’s more to come. Ivy Sherwood won’t be so lucky next time.’