Queen of Wild Cards novel Chapter 489

The old man studied the young woman, his gaze lingering with a profound, unspoken meaning.

Finally, he asked, "Little girl, are you absolutely sure you want to play with an old man like me?"

Stella let out a light laugh. "Of course I am. Just go easy on me, alright? I'm still young, and it's bad karma to bully kids."

The old man offered a ghost of a smile. "Alright then. Let's play a few hands."

Since she had someone she needed to pull out of the fire, he’d humor her.

Behind Stella, Luke was practically vibrating with anxiety.

Neither Lucian nor Kane could touch this old man. Stella was just a young woman; was she completely out of her depth?

Vincent Vaughn had made it explicitly clear how important she was, strictly ordering him and Adrian to ensure her survival at all costs.

Right now, she seemed to be acting entirely on impulse.

But then again, she had managed to thrive in this viper's nest for over two months, looking as comfortable as a queen holding court. Luke couldn't tell if she was being reckless or if she genuinely held all the cards.

He decided to hold his tongue and watch.

Lucian, practically foaming at the mouth, snapped, "If we're all agreed, let's go."

The ultimate showdown between Stella and the old man began.

Kane hadn't spoken a word since his explosive meltdown, settling for glaring venomously as Stella and the old man traded blows across the felt.

Lucian, however, was watching with feverish intensity.

In just two rounds, they were deadlocked.

The old man took the first hand.

Stella took the second.

Lucian's excitement spiked purely because he hadn't managed to win a single hand off the old man all night.

It was impossible to predict who would walk away with the final pot.

Stella just smiled at the old man again. "Old man, you really need to let me win this. Otherwise, the fallout is going to be spectacularly bad."

To Lucian and Kane, it sounded like she was terrified of what Tiger would do to her if she lost all his money.

To the old man, her message was crystal clear: If she lost, she couldn't save the girl, and that girl's fate would be catastrophic.

It was a masterpiece of double-speak; everyone heard exactly what they were conditioned to hear.

"Alright. Let's see how your luck holds up. I'll play this last hand with you."

With that, the old man smoothly pushed his own mountain of chips to the center of the table. "Good luck, little girl."

"Thanks! I appreciate you letting me take this one," she chirped happily, claiming victory before the cards were even flipped.

While the two of them bantered lightly, the spectators were suffocating under the crushing tension.