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Chapter 112 – Chip by Chip, Flame by Flame
“We will now resume the game,” the dealer announced, her voice slicing cleanly through the electric hush of the hall.She shuffled once, twice—cards flipping and snapping like knives through silence. Then, with precise hands and a blank expression, she dealt five cards to each player.A beat passed.Then another.Peter reached for his cards. So did Naomi.They lifted them simultaneously.And as they did, Logan leaned forward in his seat.He saw it.Not in the cards.Not in the chips.In Peter.Sweat glistened faintly on Peter’s brow. His chest rose and fell faster than it should. His hand trembled—just once, barely noticeable. A shallow inhale, a twitch at the edge of his eye. It wasn’t visible to most, but Logan had seen it before.“Will you redraw?” the dealer asked, her tone professional.“Two cards, please,” Naomi replied, sliding forward the 5 of Hearts and 2 of Diamonds. Her face was relaxed. Almost lazy. Like none of this mattered.Peter looked at his hand. Quietly.And smiled.
Chapter 111: The Ask
Peter stood frozen behind the gambling table, the edges of the world fraying in his vision. The lights above the stage flickered just slightly, or maybe it was just the blood draining from his head.Think.Think, dammit.But no matter how many angles he searched, how many what-ifs and desperate plans he clawed through in his mind—there was nothing.No hidden bank account.No last-minute twist.No god from the machine to descend and save him.And maybe… maybe that was for the best.A quiet, bitter voice in the back of his head started whispering.Maybe it’s time to fold, Peter.Maybe it ends here. And that’s okay.At least this way, Naomi wouldn't become Viktor's property. She wouldn’t be bound to that monster by ink and blood. She’d be free. Even if Peter had to take the loss, if he had to bow out now, at least she’d walk away unchained.Even if it costs me everything… that’s a trade I can live with.He closed his eyes for a moment. Felt his heart settle, just slightly, into a resigne
Chapter 110: The Queen’s Gambit
"Now then…" the dealer’s voice rang across the silent auditorium like a sword being unsheathed, sharp and ceremonial, "Let the gamble resume." A ripple of anticipation swept through the crowd. The weight of what had just occurred—Naomi putting her life on the line, Viktor returning to the stage with half a trillion euros at his disposal—had not yet settled in their collective chests. But now, the game was moving again. The dealer deftly flicked her wrist, distributing the cards. The sound of each card hitting the felt table was impossibly loud in the hush that followed. One card. Two. Five each. Naomi and Peter sat opposite each other, a world of tension between them, the table a battlefield. The overhead lights glared down like spotlights on a stage, illuminating every twitch, every flinch, every shift in breathing. Peter’s hand hovered over his cards for a moment. Then, slowly, he lifted them and took a look. A flicker passed across his expression. Subtle. Only those who kn
Chapter 109: Dinner with the Devil
Peter stood frozen, his mind tangled in knots he couldn’t untie. This wasn’t part of any strategy he had prepared for. No amount of observation, analysis, or deduction could have predicted this. Not Naomi offering up her life on a contract. Not Viktor bidding half a trillion euros. And definitely not Naomi accepting it. He glanced toward her. Naomi was still standing in the center of the stage, back straight, chin tilted with what looked like confidence—but Peter saw the tremor in her fingers, the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Was she scared? Proud? Broken? He couldn’t tell. She turned to Viktor, her lips curving into a smile—one that was impossible to decode. It hovered somewhere between defiance and surrender. Between the smirk of a wild card and the sad grin of someone already halfway gone. “So…” she said softly, eyes locked on Viktor. “I guess you're the highest bidder.” Viktor chuckled under his breath, casual and cruel, his hands in his pockets like none of thi
Chapter 108: The Wild Card
The chips hit the dealer’s tray one after another with a chilling finality. One. Ten. Dozens. Hundreds. And with that, the game was done. Every single chip—the entire 80 billion—was swept from Naomi’s side of the table and placed into Viktor’s waiting hands. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t gloat. Just stood there, stoic, his cold fingers curling over the mountain of victory like a predator reclaiming territory. The room filled with murmurs—quiet, awkward, hesitant. No applause. No cheers. Just the stunned silence of an audience who’d been building toward a storm and instead got rain. The energy that had once crackled in the air fizzled out like a spark drowned in water. Even Grant sat frozen in his seat, mouth slightly open, eyes scanning for something—anything—to make sense of the disappointment. Logan sighed. Katherina crossed her arms, her brows furrowed. What an anticlimax. That was the unspoken consensus among the crowd. After all the tension, after all the heart-racing roun
Chapter 107: Shards
A few minutes earlier—right after forfeiting the round—Naomi had bolted out of the hall and into the restroom, her heels echoing like gunshots down the corridor. The moment the door shut behind her, the weight of everything came crashing in.Her chest tightened. Her head spun. Her thoughts collided like cars on a freeway, no direction, no control. She staggered toward the sink, clutching its edge with white-knuckled desperation.What the hell am I doing?What the hell is Peter doing to me?She could barely think straight. Her heart was racing, her mind unraveling. The image of Peter—those cold, searching eyes that seemed to peer directly into her soul—clung to her like a parasite. Why was it so hard to follow Viktor's orders this time? She'd obeyed him without question in the past. She'd surrendered her will to his control because it felt safer than being lost.So why couldn’t she do it now?“WHY?!” she screamed, a raw, guttural cry that ricocheted off the walls.She dug her fingers i
Chapter 106: The Fracture
What the hell? She has to be joking… right? Why the hell would she do that?Peter couldn’t believe his ears. For a split second, his brain refused to register the words that had just been spoken. The arena, too, reacted with matching disbelief—like a hive kicked at its core.The crowd erupted.“No way—”“She’s bluffing!”“Did she just—?”“No. No, that can’t be right!”Gasps cracked through the tension like thunder. Confused murmurs turned to stunned exclamations. The very air in the room grew tight, like it didn’t know how to breathe anymore.“Naomi!!!” Viktor’s voice boomed with a mixture of rage and disbelief. His composure—always pristine, always absolute—was shattered like glass under a hammer. “What is the meaning of this?!”But Naomi remained still.Still, and silent.And somehow, that silence was louder than the uproar. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t defend herself. Didn’t explain. That made it worse. That made it real.The betrayal wasn’t just strategic—it was personal.Even Peter,
Chapter 105: Weaker hand
Gasps rippled through the crowd like a sudden gust of wind.“Weaker hand?”“Is he insane?”“Who the hell bets one chip and chooses weak?”But Peter didn’t flinch.He wasn’t playing for approval. Not anymore.He kept his eyes on Viktor.That one twitch — the faintest shift in posture — was all he needed.He’d seen it in Naomi once, too. That subtle crack in the armor. That brief moment of calculation derailed by unpredictability.Peter had learned something Naomi never realized: the one thing people like Viktor feared wasn’t strength.It was chaos.Because chaos couldn’t be controlled.And chaos couldn’t be predicted.“Weaker hand it is,” the dealer confirmed, still unsure whether she should be impressed or terrified. “Reveal your cards.”Peter laid them out carefully:Ace of Spades. Joker. 7 of Hearts. 6 of Clubs. 4 of Spades.Unorthodox. No pairs. No combos. A high card and a wildcard. A hand that could’ve gone either way — but in this game, it was weak.Very weak.
Chapter 104: Viktor's fury
The sound of Naomi’s heels echoing off the stage faded into stunned silence. For a few seconds, no one moved.Then—Viktor stood.Slowly.Deliberately.Like a storm rising.The air in the room thickened. The crowd that had moments ago gasped at Naomi’s surrender now sat paralyzed, unsure whether they’d just witnessed a victory, a rebellion… or the beginning of something much worse.The dealer blinked. “Mr. Viktor—”Viktor raised a hand.She fell silent.He didn’t speak.He just stared at Naomi’s retreating figure. His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened.Then, finally, he turned his gaze to Peter.And smiled.But it wasn’t the smug smirk of a man in control. It was thinner now. Stretched tight across his face like a mask trying to hold together a crumbling expression.“You’re clever,” Viktor said.Peter didn’t answer.“You didn’t beat her with cards. You beat her with memories. With feelings.” He said the word like it was an insult.“I didn’t beat her at all,” Peter replie
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