Chapter 390

The crowd’s gaze wasn’t on Connor; instead, it was fixated on Brielle.

Seated around the table were faces regularly splashed across the finance sections of newspapers, scions of the top ten magnate families of Beaconsfield, and North American blue bloods like Dustin.

And Brielle? She was none of these things. Yet here she was, taking her seat at this thrilling. eye–

opening poker game, her posture poised with a confidence that belied her status.

Typically, the women accompanying the high rollers to a casino like this clung to their benefactors, playing the role of arm candy with a practiced grace. They would barely dare to breathe too loudly while their patrons studied their cards, fearing to provoke any displeasure.

This casino epitomized luxury, and many guests often brought along the top ladies of the entertainment industry as their dates, ranging from award–winning actresses to adored ingénues. Even the most seasoned celebrities would find themselves awestruck upon their first visit to this establishment, but Brielle’s eyes betrayed no such wonder, sparking curiosity. in those around her.

However, the people here weren’t as gossipy as the online trolls, who threw around vicious comments without a second thought. Most of those critics weren’t worth a million, while the ones standing in this room were at least millionaires.

Experience limits one’s perspective, perspective limits ability, and ability dictates the playing field–it’s a vicious cycle. That was why most of the crowd wouldn’t stoop to vulgar insults about a woman.

But Connor was the exception. Seeing Brielle ready to join the game, he couldn’t help but laugh.

outright. “Brielle, come on, are you serious? Borrowing money from Mr. Lynch to bet at this table? Can you handle the loss if your luck runs out? Do you have any idea how much money goes into the pot in a no–limit game?”

Even if Brielle was once a miss of the Haywood family, they hadn’t provided her with a life of luxury.

Her car wasn’t even worth two hundred thousand. Could she possibly have any experience with Texas Hold’em?

Unperturbed, Brielle simply placed her chips in front of her and spoke with nonchalance. “So, I just won’t lose, right?”

Her matter–of–fact tone left Connor speechless. His body was shaking with silent rage, thought he couldn’t do anything as everyone had taken their seats. He scoffed and muttered under his breath.

“We’ll just see you crying all the way home tonight. Then you’ll realize that there are places that just aren’t meant for lowly people like you.”

Brielle ignored him, instead scanning the other players at the table. Apart from Dustin and Connor, she recognized everyone else, though only by sight. What puzzled her the most was the heir to the Hatfield family, Sammuel, who offered her a warm smile. She could only return the gesture with a small smile of her own before the dealer appeared, and the room fell into silence.

Though Texas Hold’em was a common sight in casinos, playing no–limit was another league entirely, especially with a wild card like Dustin in the mix. The pot could swell to an astronomical sum in the blink of an eye.

The attendees, all wealthy in their own right, couldn’t help but steal glances at Brielle, whose composure seemed to surpass even the most seasoned veterans of high–stakes games.

As the first round of dealing commenced, the players to the dealer’s left placed their bets, six million and three million, respectively.

Without watching the others‘ reactions, Brielle glanced at her own two cards once they were dealt.

Sitting next to her, Dustin also checked his hand. Being to the left of the big blind, Brielle was the first to act. She raised an eyebrow. “Raise.”

Her raise was twelve million, bringing the pot to twenty–one million.

Spectators were taken aback, some even snickering at the bold move. No–limit games typically saw cautious plays, and such early raises were either the mark of a seasoned pro or a ‘Money Burner‘ like Dustin.

Connor’s face twisted into a sneer. “Brielle, maybe you should just go stand prettily in the corner.

Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find a man tonight who doesn’t mind your company.”

At his words, Brielle lifted her gaze to meet his. “Mr. Connor, all your talk seems to revolve around what’s in your pants. Now I understand why your company’s tanking.”

Each word struck a nerve, and Connor, chest heaving with fury, realized he was no match for Brielle in a verbal spar.

That bitch!

Fine, he thought, tonight he’d make her see that this kind of game was no place for a woman. Women belonged in bed, legs spread, pleasing men–that was all they were good for.

He bit back any further comment and cautiously opted to call the bet.