?Chapter 1196:


    Nate met his gaze but said nothing. His silence was an answer in itself.


    “You’re worrying unnecessarily,” Moses shot at Herbert with a dismissive snort. “Nate’s not sweating over Corrine, so why are you?”


    Herbert fumbled for a response but none came.


    He was just looking out for Corrine—that was all. Was that so wrong?


    Irritated, he scowled at Moses. “I was just trying to help!”


    Moses merely grinned and lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug.


    Unlike Herbert, Moses had yed against Corrine in Lyhaton before. She always brushed off her wins as sheer luck, but he knew better.


    No one was lucky every single time. Anyone with a shred ofmon sense would see through that excuse.


    The oue of this game? Still up in the air.


    Rosalie, however, was too caught up in the thrill of the bet to notice the quiet conversation unfolding around her.


    Her pulse quickened. The terms Corrine had set were intoxicating. The winner would hold absolute power over the loser.


    Her eyes gleamed, her blood thrumming with anticipation. “So you’re saying… if I win, I can make you do anything?”


    Anything—including confessing to Nate that she had once been married to another man?


    The mere thought sent a rush of exhration through Rosalie. If she could force Corrine to admit that in front of Nate, it would spare her a world of trouble.


    Nate was a proud man. He would never tolerate being deceived by a woman.


    If he found out Corrine had been married before, how could he still look at her the same way? How could he possibly marry her? He wouldn’t.


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    If she couldn’t have Nate, she damn well wouldn’t let Corrine have him either.


    Even as she attempted to suppress her glee, Corrine saw through her in an instant.


    A slow, knowing smirk yed on her lips as she arched a brow. “That’s right. As long as you can beat me.”


    Beat Corrine… Rosalie nearly scoffed. How hard could that be?


    Her gaze lowered, hiding the satisfaction that burned behind her eyes.


    She had been on the gambling table with her mother since the age of three. At four, she was rolling dice. By five, she had memorized every game in the casino, practicing her technique for almost three years.


    The dice weren’t just objects in her hands—they were extensions of her will. If she wanted a one, it would nevernd on two. If she wanted them in perfect line, they would fall into ce without fail.


    Winning against Corrine? It would be child’s y.


    But she knew better than to let her confidence show too brazenly, especially with Nate sitting across from her. His gaze was cast downward, his expression calm and indifferent, as if lost in some distant thought.


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