She’s Back, and Hell’s Coming with Her novel Chapter 22

Every private room received a list of tonight’s gamblers.

The list held the names—or sometimes aliases—of those participating in tonight’s high-stakes game.

Each round was capped at thirty players.

Anyone above that limit would be quietly removed, the excuse always that they’d “withdrawn from the table.”

Sabrina flipped open the leather-bound booklet the attendant had just delivered.

She idly turned the pages, her gaze quickly catching on a single name.

Without hesitation, she made her way upstairs and settled into her assigned seat on the balcony.

A few minutes later, Celia and Xander strode onto the stage, their voices amplified as they announced the official start of the evening’s game.

Bright lights swept across the stage and lit up the massive screen behind them.

“Tonight, we have fifty distinguished guests in attendance. Twenty have already bowed out of the game. That leaves thirty contenders, each with their own number.”

“Has everyone found someone they’d like to challenge? If so, don’t wait—the player list is in your hands. Now, let’s see who’ll be the first to step into the spotlight!”

The oversized screen began to spin, numbers blurring in rapid succession.

All eyes in the room turned as one, breath held in anticipation.

Everyone wanted to know—who would be tonight’s first lucky gambler?

Stop!

The screen froze on a number.

“Number 22!”

A burst of lively music filled the room as attention turned to the winner.

Number 22 was a young man who stood up under the glow of the stage lights.

Celia’s smile was sweet as sugar. “Our first lucky contestant is a remarkably handsome gentleman. Please welcome Mr. Leonard Yarrow!”

Everyone seemed to recognize him—the eldest son of the Yarrow family.

Some guests leaned in, whispering.

“Why would Mr. Yarrow, at his age, show up at a place like this to gamble?”

“The Yarrow family isn’t exactly strapped for cash.”

A pair of men nearby spoke in low voices.

“I heard the Yarrow finances are in trouble.”

By his expression, it was clear he hadn’t expected to be chosen.

It’s him.

Bryce York, of the York family.

He wasn’t a local, but his business operations spanned the entire city.

Sabrina had met him once, a year before her arrest—he’d been doing business with Marshall then. Just that one meeting had left an impression.

Bryce’s appearance suggested dependability, but his personality was anything but.

That contradiction made him hard to forget.

Bryce rose with a wry smile, clearly resigned. He’d only shown up tonight for some light entertainment—gambling hadn’t exactly been on his agenda.

He’d planned to watch a few rounds and slip out quietly…

But now, with casual confidence, he strolled to the table, straightening his jacket before leaning lightly on the polished surface. A devil-may-care smile played at the corner of his mouth.

“Mr. Yarrow, looks like I owe you one.”

The words hung in the air, oddly charged—leaving the onlookers wondering just what game Bryce intended to play.