Chapter 122 Duel
Trouble was brewing.
Quinley already sensed the danger. Her sharp gaze swept the area—too far from the lawn and pool to call for backup.
"Bitch, you're the one who messed with Lisa?" A punk with dyed hair jumped forward from the group, jabbing his finger at Quinley's nose. His arrogance was off the charts. Clearly not someone worth knowing.
Quinley didn't flinch. She had no interest in bit players like him. Catch the leader to catch the thieves—her attention locked on Lisa instead. Lisa's smugness had returned in full force.
"What do you want?" Quinley's tone stayed level.
Settle debts with those who owe them. If Lisa wouldn't let this go, Quinley would meet her head-on.
"One-on-one." Lisa's lips curved upward, radiating confidence.
"What kind of one-on-one?"
Lisa had plenty of dirty tricks up her sleeve. If she was targeting Quinley, she'd go for the kill. Quinley had dealt with this before. She wasn't afraid.
"I heard you PR people are really good at rock-paper-scissors. You game?"
Quinley actually laughed, tension draining from her shoulders. Her legendary rock-paper-scissors victory? Lisa clearly had no clue about that particular story. Quinley kept her poker face. No need to show her hand too early.
"You sure? I'm really not that good at it. What happens if I lose?" She played dumb on purpose.
Lisa's eyes lit up even more. Classic case of give her an inch and she'll take a mile.
"Lose a round, take off a piece of clothing. Keep losing until you're naked. After that? Run a lap around the entire estate." As soon as the words left Lisa's mouth, the young crowd erupted in cheers.
"That's awesome!"
Pretty brutal stakes.
Quinley's brow furrowed as she studied Lisa. Why did women have to tear each other down? "Ms. Brown, you're an unmarried Brown family daughter. And I'm your brother's fiancée. If either of us loses, The Brown family's reputation goes down the drain. You really want to do this?"
A fair warning. But Lisa was riding high on her own arrogance, convinced Quinley would be the loser.
"Absolutely."
"Then let's go to the terrace." Quinley made the suggestion. More people there. Safer, relatively speaking. She was alone—she needed protection against Lisa pulling dirty tricks or cheating.
"Fine. Terrace it is."
Lisa led her entourage toward the terrace like a conquering army. The place was buzzing with activity—clusters of people barbecuing and drinking. The dyed-hair punk climbed up first and started shouting. People cleared space immediately.
Lisa cracked her knuckles and positioned herself at a rectangular table. Over the years, she'd learned nothing useful—but plenty of these lowbrow party tricks. Rock-paper-scissors started as a drinking game, and she'd secretly dated a punk who excelled at it. Lisa picked up the basics. Among her circle of amateurs, nobody could beat her. Naturally, she assumed she was invincible.
"Hurry up. If you're too chicken, just admit defeat now. Get on your knees and bark like a dog, and I'll let you go. Otherwise, don't blame me for going all out." Lisa kept running her mouth.
Quinley remained calm and collected. Lisa thought she was digging a trap, not realizing she was falling into one instead.
"Let's begin."
Quinley's words silenced the crowd. All eyes turned their way. Someone called out the count. Quinley and Lisa's hands flew in rapid succession. Weirdly, they kept throwing identical signs, like they were in sync.
Lisa looked determined to win, grinding her teeth as she threatened, "I'm gonna make you regret this."
She wore multiple layers—a sleeveless silk camisole under a sleeveless jacket. Even if she lost once, she wouldn't be in an embarrassing position.
Quinley didn't respond, her focus locked on Lisa. She deliberately slowed the pace, planning to string Lisa along. But the woman's competitive streak was too strong. Quinley decided to teach her a lesson. Suddenly, she threw a different sign.
The crowd exploded.
"Strip! Strip! Strip!" Everyone pounded the table in unison, chanting.
Lisa showed no distress. First battle not yet won, but her morale stayed high. "I'll give you this round. Don't get cocky." She removed her jacket. The crowd seemed mildly disappointed. Someone started booing.
Quinley wore a single-piece evening gown. One loss would leave her half-exposed.
"Again."
Lisa sat down, quickly getting back in the zone. Just like before, Quinley held back. One round, two rounds, three rounds... all the way to the tenth round when she finally threw a different sign.
This time, the place went absolutely wild.
"Strip! Strip! Strip!" Even louder now.
Lisa's composure cracked. She couldn't believe Quinley had won again. "You... you cheated." Lisa started throwing accusations.
Quinley's cold laugh cut through the noise. "Which eye saw me cheat? If you can't handle losing, fine—get on your knees and bark like a dog right now, and I'll let you off."
Lisa's face cycled through shades of red and white. She only had a camisole and skirt left. Either one would leave her exposed. The dyed-hair guy whispered something in her ear. Lisa's tension eased. She stood up and, right in front of Quinley, removed one of her shoes and tossed it smugly at her.
"That doesn't count," Quinley said flatly.
Lisa argued back, "Shoes are clothing too."
Playing dirty. Quinley quickly punished her for it. They restarted, and on the very first throw, Quinley made her lose. Lisa's jaw dropped. Fuming, she removed her other shoe.
"Again. I don't believe your luck will hold all night. I'm gonna strip you naked." The louder her bravado, the more spectacular her defeat.
Same pattern—first throw of the new game, Quinley made her lose.
"Strip! Strip! Strip..." This time, she had no tricks left.
Lisa's eyes went red with desperation. In her rush to retaliate, she recklessly removed her skirt. Black lace thong on full display—sultry and seductive.
"Ms. Brown, nice taste." Someone smirked and teased her.
Lisa ignored them, fists clenched tight. "Again—"
Quinley leaned back in her chair, watching Lisa with detached calm. She wasn't one to go for the kill. If Lisa lost this round, The Brown family's reputation would be utterly destroyed.
"Think carefully. One more loss and you're doing that naked lap."
"Shut up. Could be you." Lisa was past reason now.
Quinley hesitated, lifting her gaze to scan the crowd. Helen wasn't here. Nobody could control Lisa's downward spiral.
"Come on, you scared?" Lisa taunted.
Quinley suddenly felt exhausted. Playing games with someone unhinged was utterly pointless. She settled back into position. Rock-paper-scissors resumed.
Quinley had no interest in winning or losing. But Lisa? She only wanted to win. People too attached to outcomes rarely do. Predictably, Lisa lost again.
"Strip! Strip! Strip!" The familiar chant rose once more.
Quinley sat there, watching panic flood Lisa's eyes. And then Lisa actually removed her camisole. Black lace bra—matching set—showing off her figure in full.
Gasps erupted. Some tried to cop a feel. Others snapped photos with their phones... The scene descended into chaos.
"That's enough!" Quinley stood. She just wanted to leave.
But Lisa suddenly lunged forward, grabbing Quinley's dress. A loud ripping sound—Quinley's gown tore clean in half.