?Chapter 1298:


    More tellingly, Jonathan—ruthless and unforgiving—had done nothing about it. That alone spoke volumes. Corrine’s identity was quite significant.


    Seated beside Corrine, Nate did not miss the shift in the dealer’s expression. He caught the spective glint in the man’s eyes, the way he studied Corrine with veiled calction.


    The prolonged stares were bing an irritation. Nate leaned back slightly, his voice calm yet carrying an unmistakable chill.


    “Mr. Martel, it seems your men are in need of a lesson in obedience.”


    Jonathan swept the cards from the table with barely a nce at the dealer. His voice, detached and cold, cut through the air. “Did you hear that? Consider this a warning. Never covet what doesn’t belong to you—not even a passing nce.”


    The dealer lowered his gaze, anxiety creeping across his face, but continued to deal the cards with robotic precision.


    As Corrine reached forward to take her cards, Nate was quicker, snatching them away in an instant.


    A flicker of amusement tugged at the corners of Corrine’s lips as she lowered her gaze, concealing a smile.


    Jealousy again.


    The game? Still ckjack.


    Bleacher and Mandy approached with fresh stacks of chips, cing them onto the table with careful precision.


    Corrine gave her cards a cursory nce before tossing out a stack of chips—a wager of ten million.


    Jonathan raised an eyebrow, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity. “Miss Hond, you certainly exude confidence.”


    It was her confidence,bined with her calmposure, that made her undeniably captivating.


    Her response was quick, her toneced with yful challenge. “It’s just ten million. Surely, you can afford to lose that much, can’t you?”


    Jonathan sneered, a surge of irritation rising in him. How dare she speak so lightly of his wealth? “Ten million?” he muttered dismissively. “It’s nothing to me.”


    Without hesitation, he matched her bet, casually tossing out his own ten million before adding an additional twenty million for good measure.


    “How generous of you,” Corrine remarked, her voice steady, though her words sent an uneasy ripple through Jonathan’s chest.


    She was still upset about what he had done to Lone Ranger, he realized. Yet, instead of addressing it, he simply smirked, letting the moment pass withoutment.


    Heid his cards down with a flourish—exactly twenty points.


    Corrine’s hand revealed only eighteen points, a clear loss.


    In the next round, without even ncing at her cards, Corrine boldly wagered thirty million.


    Jonathan, always thepetitor, raised the stakes to match her, and the game intensified, spiraling into a tense battle where even the dealer’s practiced hands faltered under the pressure.


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