The Ex-Con Who Conquered the World novel Chapter 157

Chapter 157 Where’s Your Chips Now?

Chapter 157 Where’s Your Chips Now?

Her own father has sold her. So that’s how Bob got more chips after losing five million dollars.

Stefan knew casinos weren’t charities. They were predators.

And Eliza’s contract was the price for Bob’s last shot at the tables.

Stefan held up the paper, his eyes locked on Damian. “Care to explain this?”

+10 Free Coins

Damian spread his hands, all innocence. “What can I say? He begged for another chance. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He signed it himself and took the two million dollars in chips. I tried to talk him out of it.”

He played the part well, but Stefan caught the smug glint in his eye.

In fact, Damian really did have nothing to fear.

So what if Korbin comes along? To put it bluntly, I can just ignore Korbin.

Damian had the Aether Spire Society behind him. Korbin’s presence meant nothing. Even the head of the Tiger Head Society wouldn’t dare cross them.

And with Lionel, one of River City’s four Great Grandmasters, as his uncle? Damian was a Hidden Force Grandmaster himself, no weaker than Korbin.

He’d gotten nothing to fear.

Stefan just nodded, saying nothing.

Bob glared at him. “You don’t get it. I win it back-with interest-and I buy back the contract. Simple.”

Stefan took a slow breath, his anger cooling into something colder. He looked at Bob and said, “Alright. I’ll watch. Good luck.”

Bob ignored Stefan and turned back to the table, placing his bets.

The game was simple: three dice. People could bet on big, small, or specific combinations, each with different odds.

Big and small paid even money.

The big money was on a specific triple-like three ones, or three fives. That paid 150 to 1.

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ter 157 Where’s Your Chips Now?

Stefan watched in silence.

+10 Free Coins

Bob started small, betting five to ten thousand dollars at a time. He won some, lost some, but came out slightly ahead.

At that rate, he’d never dig himself out.

So Bob upped his bets. Every time he put down fifty thousand dollars or more, he lost-every single time.

Round after round, the pattern held.

Soon, Bob was down to his last ten thousand dollars in chips. His eyes were bloodshot, wild. He shoved it all onto one square: triple ones.

This is it. The pattern says it’s triple ones. I’ve done the math.

If he won, ten thousand dollars would become fifteen million dollars. That was enough to clear his debt, buy back the contract, and walk away rich.

It was a one-shot chance at everything-a classic gambler’s move.

Bob started muttering, his voice a desperate chant. “One… one… Triple ones…”

The dealer lifted the cup-the first die was a red one, and so was the second die.

Bob’s face flushed, his whole body trembling. He held his breath as the third die began to

show.

As the third die slowly revealed itself, a vivid red one first came into view. Yet when the cup was fully lifted, the die displayed two dots.

The third die was a two.

Fate had played a cruel joke on Bob. His dream shattered, and with it, his daughter and the once-whole family he’d cherished were lost forever.

They said fate shaped people, but this was really just an inevitable outcome.

Bob lost.

The two million dollars he’d sold his daughter for vanished.

The strength drained out of him. He slumped to the floor like a puppet with cut strings.

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