Queen of Wild Cards novel Chapter 435

Joel spoke in a slow, monotonous drone. "Three years ago, at the Port City casino, an old guy named Dewey Todd was throwing down crazy money. He won a fortune,

but ended up losing it all. He borrowed from loan sharks, couldn't pay it back, and got hunted down. They chopped off one of his fingers, and word went around that someone even ended up dead over it.

But that was all a smokescreen. Dewey staged the whole thing to save a guy named Leon Hale."

Stella pressed on. "Where did Dewey go after that?"

She already knew about the loan sharks and the severed finger; Drake had filled her in on that part.

What she needed was the aftermath. Where did her grandfather go next?

"Later on, he crossed paths with some heavy hitter at the casino. Rumor had it the guy crossed over from the border. The word is, Dewey was taken by him, and no one's seen him since."

Stella frowned.

The border?

The anonymous email she received was routed from an IP address near the border.

Who exactly had sent that email?

"Do you know the name of the man who took Dewey?" she asked.

"No." Joel slowly shook his head, his eyes remaining glassy and vacant.

Realizing she had squeezed everything she could out of him, Stella commanded him to forget the entire evening.

Once she finished the hypnotic suggestion, she pricked his neck with a specialized needle. As soon as he slumped over unconscious, she dragged him out into the hallway.

She shut her door and flagged down a passing steward.

"Excuse me, he just collapsed right here. It looks like he might need some help."

"Right away, miss. Thank you for letting me know. I'll make sure he gets safely back to his room."

The steward hoisted Joel up and guided him down the hall.

Stella, on the other hand, kept things low-key. She wore a fitted black leather jacket and pants, paired with a dark burgundy beret, giving her a sharp, playful edge.

With a few minutes left before the King of Gamblers Championship kicked off, Stella took a lap around the room, keeping an eye out for Fifth Master. But no matter where she looked, he was nowhere to be found.

She did spot Joel, though. He offered her a friendly nod—a clear sign he had absolutely zero memory of what went down in her room.

Stella returned the smile with practiced ease.

Twenty competitors were entering the tournament, hailing from all over the world.

Stella was one of them, but she wasn't sweating it. She wasn't here for the title; she was just here for the thrill of the game. If she lost, she lost. She just didn't want to go down without a fight.

She had drawn a late number, which meant she probably wouldn't be playing until the evening. For now, she was content to sit back, watch the high-stakes action, and observe the competition's techniques.

But after an hour of spectating, she was bored out of her mind. None of them had any new tricks.

At this level, the game wasn't just about skill—it was heavily reliant on luck and mental fortitude. A few players let the pressure get to them, crumbling under the stress and busting out early.