Two years ago, Hector had swaggered into the Siren’s Club to challenge the so-called Gambling Deity.
Naturally, the challenge ended in defeat, but he walked away unscathed, leaving a hundred million dollars lighter.
He lost that night, sure—but his skill at the tables was second only to the Gambling Deity himself.
Unfortunately for him, tonight he was facing someone even more formidable: the Gambling King.
Celia couldn’t help but wonder how Mr. Watson would take it if he lost tonight. She couldn’t imagine his reaction.
Hector took his seat, propping his chin on one hand and barely acknowledging Sabrina’s presence.
“Woman, by the end of tonight, you’ll belong to me. Don’t try to back out,” he said with a smirk.
Sabrina didn’t care for the look in his eyes. She replied coolly, “You’d better not try to back out yourself. Don’t forget, I want the Goldcrest District property.”
Hector snorted.
This woman. Still struggling when she’s already on the brink of defeat.
There was no more banter between them. As soon as the host announced the start of the second round, both players’ expressions turned serious.
A fresh deck was brought to the table by a waiter.
Sabrina was to shuffle first.
Unlike the first round, her movements were fluid and practiced—graceful, almost effortless. It was clear she was no amateur.
Hector started to get nervous.
Was she just pretending before?
In the audience, Marshall, Celine, and the others sucked in a collective breath.
Sabrina could play cards? And not just play—she was clearly good at it.
No one could move like that without years of practice.
Amid the shocked whispers, Sabrina laid down the first card, calm and unhurried. Her composure only rattled Hector further.
“You…” he started, but swallowed the rest.
Even if she’d been playing dumb before, it wouldn’t do her any good now. In Hector’s mind, no one could beat him.
From the crowd came a whispered, “Go Hector, take her down!”


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