Chapter 188
Chapter 188:
Still bitter over Thiago’s earlier attempt to inject him with that stuff, Harlan itched to beat him. Gritting his teeth, he added, “Don’t get cocky. You won’t be laughing when this is over. If you’ve got any guts, stay here after this is over. I will deal with you then p>
Thiago merely smirked, unbothered. He knew exactly what kind of man Harlan was and had prepared for what might happen accordingly.
The dealer had already dealt the cards. Stacks of chips sat neatly beside both players, the required thirty million in betting chips ready to go.
Harlan glanced at Brenna’s stack arrogantly. He motioned to the dealer, signaling for her to shuffle the deck.
In his mind, Brenna was nothing more than an amateur—a casual card player out of her depth in a high-stakes match.
Brenna shuffled the deck with a simple, no-frills technique—devoid of the theatrical flair seen in seasoned gamblers.
Watching her, Harlan smirked, his confidence soaring. He believed she was just another overconfident amateur and no match for him. “With those basic skills, you think you can take me on?” he said mockingly.
When his turn came, he put on a show. Holding the deck with practiced ease, he spread the cards across the table in a perfectly symmetrical fan.
With a flick of his wrist, the entire deck flipped over in a seamless motion, drawing impressed murmurs.
He shuffled a few more times—fast, precise, effortless—before passing the deck back to the dealer.
The female dealer moved swiftly, spreading the cards across the table before dealing three to each player.
gⱯlnσν𝓮ℓs﹒𝚌o𝗺 is where stories live
Harlan flipped his first card, then the second, nodding in satisfaction. His luck was holding. He then saw Brenna turn over her cards one by one, looking anything but relaxed.
Harlan was confident that no one could shuffle cards better than he could.
In his hand were three strong cards—a King of Hearts, a Queen of Hearts, and a Jack of Hearts.
He believed Brenna might know her way around a deck, but she was no match for him.
He laid down the smallest one first—the Jack. Then, he gave Brenna a gentlemanly smile. He didn’t care that his face was marred with scars. As long as his cards held, he could always claw his way back to the top. “Brenna, it’s your turn,” he said.
He glanced at the staff member beside him, who held a sharp knife meant for the punishment after the game. Harlan imagined Ethan sitting helplessly, watching the woman he loved lose a finger.
Brenna didn’t seem pleased with her hand. She let out a soft sigh, a touch of gloom in her eyes, and tossed one card onto the table without much thought.