Novel & Cerita The Gentleman's Gambit

This lobby was filled with high rollers, and now the pressure of the crowd felt like a physical weight. Women in the audience watched Ethan, their cheeks flushing. He had clearly cultivated a following here. “Classic. I like it,” he said. “I’ll bet one hundred million. What is your stake?” My jaw nearly hit the floor. One hundred million? I looked at Ethan, desperate to see a sign of hesitation. Even if he had inherited his family’s fortune, betting that kind of money was insanity. Was he really going to throw it all away on a game with a man like that?

Despite having never gambled before, she won at one of the roulette tables—a tidy $1,000! Elena briefly wondered if they had rigged the game in her favor. Would they do that for anyone, or only those associated with important mafia figures? It definitely would help the gambler's fallacy take root in any player's mind if they won a small sum upfront. "Elena Vitale," an unfamiliar voice called out. "My dear, you look like you're having a ball!" Elena turned around, but didn't recognize the man. He cut a sharp figure in his all white tux—his piercing blue eyes and sunshine colored hair stuck out all the more because of his outfit.

He stroked his beard and said, "This is nice. You two make a good match." Sawyer said graciously, "Thank you, Mr. Newman." He held Maisie's hand. "Let's head inside. You wanted to meet Gabriella's boyfriend, right?" How many people in their circle would have the patience to stay until banquets like these ended? The banquet hall had an attached private room where the elite among the elite had gathered for poker. The stakes were pretty high, too. When Sawyer and Maisie entered, the table was clearly dominated by Brody Allen, Gabriella's date. He'd never played much poker, but Lady Luck was on his side. He was on an unbelievable winning streak and had a high stack of chips before him.

the girl asked. The woman leaned in, her breath fogging the surface of my prison. "Because he knows he’s still winning," she whispered. She tapped the glass. Behind her, the museum doors opened. A man in a three-piece suit walked in. He had silver eyes. He looked thirty. He looked forty. He looked like the future. He walked up to the glass. "Wake up, Dad," he said. "We have a new contract." He held up a gold coin. "And I’ve already paid your gambling debt." The glass began to crack. Who is the woman, and where is Caleb?

Soph nods slowly like she’s trying to understand the words of a kindergartner, then she shakes her head suddenly like a light bulb lit up in her head. “That picture, Hannah! How did you manage to attend an Isa Ramona charity event? And most importantly, how did you attend it with one of the most mysterious businessmen in the country?” I part my lips to answer but no words form. “I mean the man is known as a resident playboy so it’s no surprise these pictures are everywhere, but you won’t even believe who brought it to my attention,” she says with a little roll of her eyes. “Who?” I ask, my brows raised.

It seemed Raphael truly fancied the woman otherwise there was no way he would act in such manner. He just could not comprehend how a woman was capable of creating the chaos. Gilbert had only met Clara twice, which made him lack in depth judgements toward her, but his snap judgement toward her had been well. He would not butt into their business, Gilbert was not a nosy person. He did care about Raphael, but what happened in his life was completely his own responsibility. Drawing out a blanket from the drawer he laid it down on top of Raphael. "Sleep tight."

Gerald. He stood framed in the lobby entrance, tall and devastatingly composed in a black shirt and slacks. He hadn’t even bothered with a jacket, but he didn’t need one—he radiated authority just by breathing. His eyes locked on Ethan, cool steel, his entire body coiled with possession. Ethan’s brows lifted, amused rather than threatened. “Ah. The mogul boyfriend. Gerald Smith, right?” He extended his hand, all polite charm. “Pleasure.” Gerald didn’t move. His jaw flexed. “State your business.”

He grinned when he saw his opponents stared at him in awe as he shoved their chips onto his table. “This is the third time you played with us and yet you won simultaneously. You must be really good,” one of the rich gentlemen commented. “This is my first time playing, Monsieur. This is just pure luck,” he turned his head to the woman beside him, smiling seductively at him. “This is because of the lady luck beside me.” The woman giggled. “Oh you~” Without anyone noticing, his eyes darted on one of the gentlemen who was drinking his whiskey as one of the staff of the casino whispered to him. “It was starting, Monsieur.”

"Let us start our bidding at two thousand dollars?" For the first time that night, the gentleman spoke. Raising his placard, he called out, "Thirty thousand dollars!" His voice was strong, easily sweeping through the room, silencing whispers and attracting wide looks. He didn't seem to care though, as his eyes slowly inched down Beth's body. Okay, he was not a gentleman. She suppressed a shudder, praying internally that someone else out bid him. If only Brandon were here... What were the chances that he would even want to-

"25 million," a man yells in the crowd raising a card in his hand up in the air, it looks like an ATM card but it was just props used for bidding. "27 million." "28 million." "29 million." Sebastian smiled as the numbers increased, "We have 29 million from that lovely gentle man there," Sebastian said staring at the gentleman and Gabriella could only find herself crying some more. There was nothing gentle about the man who had just said 29 million, he was old, wretched and had a protruding stomach, and when he smiled at her lustfully, his teeth looked like they had not been brushed in days.