Treatment 277_Badass in Disguise

Chapter 277 

 “I’ll y with you,” I said, meeting Hunter’s gaze directly. His eyes widened slightly, surprised by my forwardness.

 “Excellent,” Hunter pulled out the chair opposite me, sitting down without Invitation. His cologne–too much of it–wafted across the table. “What shall we wager? Strip poker is always fun – lose a hand, lose an article of clothing.”

 I let out a coldugh. “How juvenile, I have a better idea.” I set down the deck of cards and leaned forward. “I’ll y you at ckjack. If you lose a hand, you stab yourself.”

 The table fell silent. Hunter’s confident fa?ade faltered for just a moment before he recovered. A nervousugh escaped his throat. 

 “Whatever you say, beautiful,” he finally replied.

 Night motioned to our host, who promptly brought over a small, ornate dagger and ced it on the table. The de caught the light, its edge visibly sharp. The blonde woman went pale, her heavily made–up eyes widening in horror. <fn36b3> ??? ????? ???????s ??? ?????s??? ?? Find★Novel</fn36b3>

 “Hunter, maybe this isn’t-” she began, but Hunter cut her off with a dismissive wave.

 “Actually,” Hunter said, his voice slightly higher than before, “Cynthia will y for me. If she loses, I’ll take the penalty.”

 The woman looked horrified, her red lips parting in shock, but she didn’t dare refuse. She shot a pleading look at Hunter, who ignored herpletely.

 I nodded to a female guest to serve as a neutral dealer. She took the seat at the head of the table, nervously taking the cards I handed

 her.

 “Standard rules,” I exined. “Dealer stays on 17 or higher. Closest to 21 without going over wins. Tie goes to the dealer.”

 The crowd around us had grown, curious whispers circting. The dealer’s hands trembled slightly as she dealt the cards. Cynthia received a ten and a nine. Neen–a solid hand. After a moment’s hesitation, she looked at Hunter who nodded encouragingly,

 “Hit me,” she said, her voice barely audible.

 The dealer slid a third card across the table. Nine. Twenty–eight. Bust.

 A collective gasp went up from the onlookers. Hunter’s face drained of color.

 My cards: an ace and a jack. A perfect ckjack.

 “Natural ckjack,” I announced calmly. “You lose.”

 Hunter’s face went from confusion to disbelief to anger in the span of seconds. Some nearby guests had noticed our game and were watching with undisguised fascination.

 “What are they betting?” I heard someone whisper.

 “Why does Mr. Whitmore look so upset? It can’t be that serious, can it?” 

 Mon, Sep 

 :

 I fixed my gaze on Hunter. “Time to pay up.” 

 Hunter forced a </bugh, his face now regaining some color. “You can’t seriously expect… I mean, you’re beautiful, but surely you don’t actually want to see something so violent and bloody?” 

 ‘Don’t ke now,” Night said loudly enough for nearby guests to hear. “Unless the senator’s son doesn’t honor his debts?” 

 The surrounding crowd grew quiet, awaiting Hunter’s response.

 Hunter leaned close, lowering his voice. “Do you know who my father is?” 

 “Do you know how little I care?” I replied, matching his quiet tone. “A bet’s a bet. Unless you’re admitting you’re all talk?”

 The crowd around us had grown. Trapped by his own arrogance and the witnesses, Hunter reluctantly took the knife. With shaking hands, he pressed the de to his forearm and made a quick sh.

 Blood immediately welled up, creating a thin crimson line against his pale skin. Several female guests gasped, covering their mouths. His date turned ghostly white, frantically pulling a silk handkerchief from her purse to wrap his arm.

 Hunter pushed her away roughly, his face contorted with pain and humiliation.

 “Another round,” he demanded, mming his good hand on the table. “Now.”

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Treatment 277