“Why did you stop back there?” he asked.Ethan kept his expression neutral. “I saw the barrier late,” he said. “Didn’t want to rush into it.”The officer’s eyes flicked to the back seat. They landed on Yvonne who was wrapped in a scarf, silent and stiff.“Tell her to remove that,” the officer said, voice firm. “I need to see her face.”Yvonne didn’t move. She didn’t blink. Her body turned rigid like a statue trying not to breathe.Ethan spoke calmly. “She’s sick,” he said. “She’s not comfortable.”The officer’s brows tightened. “That’s not your call,” he said. “Remove it.”Margaret leaned forward, forcing a weak, polite laugh. “Officer,” she said softly, “please. My daughter—she’s been through a shock. There was an explosion at the hotel where we lodged. She’s—she’s panicking.”The officer’s eyes sharpened. Margaret’s voice was too eager, too smooth, too desperate. Suspicion crept in like a stain.He straightened and took half a step back. “Step out of the vehicle,” he ordered.Margar

Ethan felt the heat rising in his neck, but he forced it down before it reached his face.He had walked into the casino bar to breathe, unwind, not to fight. The room was thick with expensive cologne and quiet threats, and everyone inside carried themselves like they owned the night. The woman’s words were sharp, but what bothered Ethan more was how easily the crowd agreed with her. He could feel eyes on him now, curious and hungry, waiting to see if he would beg or bark. Ethan exhaled slowly and decided to end it clean.“You’ve made your point,” he said, voice controlled. “I won’t disturb you again.”The woman lifted her drink as if dismissing a waiter. “Good,” she replied. “That’s the first smart thing you’ve done since you walked in.”Ethan gave a small nod, turned slightly, and started to step away from her space. His pride wanted to bite back, but pride had ruined enough parts of his life already. He moved like a man who had nothing to prove, even though his chest felt tight.

The Don’s smile widened, but it wasn’t friendly.“You want a stake?” he said, voice loud enough to pull more ears. “Fine. I’ll stake my money. Let’s teach you what this place does to scumbags like you who pretend.”Ethan didn’t blink. “Good,” he said. “Call the table.”The beautiful lady exhaled like she was tired of the whole thing. “This is childish,” she murmured. “You’re going to lose and still act proud.”Ethan looked at her once. “I didn’t ask you to believe in me,” he said. “I asked you to stop talking to me like I’m dirt.”The Don waved his hand toward the floor like he owned it. “Dealer!” he shouted. “Floor manager! Bring the table here. Now.”A man in a dark vest hurried over. He had a professional face, sharp eyes. His badge read Floor Supervisor. He glanced from Ethan to the Don, then to the crowd forming.“Mr. Devereux,” the supervisor said, addressing the Don with respect. “What is the dispute?”The Don tapped the table with two fingers. “No dispute,” he said. “We all j

The silence after the dealer’s announcement felt heavier than the chips on the table. “Straight flush,” she repeated, and the words hung in the air like smoke. The Don’s mouth stayed open, but nothing came out. Around them, men who had been laughing a second ago stared at Ethan as if he had pulled a knife out of thin air. Ethan sat still, hands resting on the edge of the table, his eyes remained calm.“No… no way,” the Don finally muttered, and his voice sounded smaller than his suit. “You heard her,” a man in a grey suit said, sharp and amused. “You lost, Devereux.” Another voice came from behind him. “To that guy? Are you serious?” The bartender tried to laugh, but it cracked. “Maybe the water boy is a magician,” he said, and a few people chuckled, but it was nervous now.The beautiful lady’s gaze stayed on Ethan’s face, no longer mocking, just measuring. “What are you?” she whispered, barely audible. The Don pushed back his chair with a scrape. “This is luck,” he snapped, forci

Almost immediately, the sound of breaking glass exploded beside Ethan’s head.It shattered against the side of his car, spraying sharp fragments across the concrete. Ethan froze for half a breath, then straightened slowly, his hand still hovering near the door handle.A voice came from behind him, thick with rage and alcohol.“Where the hell do you think you are going?”Ethan turned.Under the yellow glow of the parking lot lights stood Mr Devereux, the same Don he had beaten minutes ago. His suit was still expensive, but the confidence that once filled it was cracked and leaking. Two men flanked him, both tall, broad, and dressed in black gloves. Each held a baton, tapping it lightly against their palms like they were warming up.Devereux sneered. “Did you really think I’d let you walk away with my one hundred and fifty thousand dollars just like that?”Ethan looked at him calmly. “I won that money fair and square.”Mr Devereux laughed, sharp and ugly. “Fair?” he repeated. “You hu