Chapter 552

Rodger's gaze gleamed with dark amusement, a wicked curl tugging at his mouth as he snapped his wrist to unveil the three cards clutched between his fingers.

It revealed a two of spades, a nine of hearts, and the freshly placed card-the nine of diamonds.

"Twenty points!" one of Rodger's loyal men barked in triumph,their restrained cheer rumbling low across the table.

Rodger slouched back in his seat with the air of a king savoring a reachable win, his lips curling in smug pleasure as his eyes locked on Brixton with a deliberately taunting spark.

In this pared-down but ruthless game, twenty points stood as a formidable hand, the kind that could all but guarantee victory.

Every gaze in the room swung toward Brixton.

Brixton's smile, steady and faintly playful, had not budged. With deliberate calm, he lifted his cards one by one.

First, the ten of clubs. Then, the two of diamonds. The sum was a mere twelve.

Rodger's smirk deepened, his certainty swelling, convinced that triumph was already his.

Just as Brixton's hand brushed the last card to overturn it,Hannah felt her breath falter and her pulse jolt violently in her chest.

Only moments earlier, Hannah's flawless memories of the deck's progression had revealed the grim truth-if the cards followed their natural sequence, Brixton's last draw would be the three of clubs. That meant fifteen points, a hand doomed

the three of clubs. That meant fifteen points, a hand doomed to collapse against Rodger's.

So when she dealt the third card, with a flick so subtle that it could have been mistaken for chance, she'd slid the three of clubs away, concealing it within the folds of her sleeve. In its place, she'd finessed a nine of spades, stolen clean from the bottom of the deck, and laid it before Brixton.

The gamble was madness-if uncovered, it would spell her death. Yet, her conviction burned. If her calculation was precise,Brixton would not lose the game.

Right now, Hannah's chest thundered as her eyes fastened on Brixton's final card.

With an unhurried motion, Brixton revealed it. A nine of spades.Together, his hand rose to a flawless twenty-one.

Hannah's pulse hammered, though her face betrayed nothing.Her voice rang clear and steady. "Twenty-one against twenty.Brixton claims the win."

Rodger's smug mask cracked apart, freezing into disbelief before twisting into raw fury. "Impossible-you cheated!" he thundered, slamming his palm down and launching to his feet.His finger jabbed at Hannah with venom. "No hand hits twenty -one so clean! You rigged it for him! You conniving whore!"

Rodger's men bristled instantly, metal flashing as guns leapt into their hands.

Brixton's men, equally unyielding, answered in kind, raising their own weapons.

The room locked into a deadly equilibrium, the air thick with the promise of blood.

"Still can't handle losing, can you, Rodger?" Brixton said calmly,his tone cool and edged with mockery. "The rules are binding,and the dealer's verdict is final. What? Planning to renege?"

The ice in his stare cut sharper than his words.

Rodger's complexion flamed. "You dare mock me? You and that woman are conspiring to rob me blind! I'll see this vessel burn for your audacity in tricking me!"

Rodger's hand twitched, his crew's fingers tightening around their triggers.

Then, a single shot cracked, muffled and close. It came from beneath the table.

Rodger froze, eyes widening in disbelief as he glanced down at a bloodstain spreading fast across his chest. His lips moved,forming words that never came. His body buckled, crashing backward, lifeless before he hit the floor.

The casino drowned in silence. The shock was palpable, no one daring to breathe.

Brixton's hand slid calmly from beneath the table, a compact pistol gleaming in his grip. His expression carried no pity, only cool dismissal. "A man who can't stomach defeat isn't worth the air he breathes." His eyes swept across Rodger's shaken subordinates. "Who else wishes to follow him in death?"

Fear rippled through Rodger's men. Their weapons faltered and then lowered, their courage collapsing as they stared at the corpse of their leader.

Brixton's lips curved with easy satisfaction. He gave a careless wave, as though brushing aside an inconvenience. "Alright,since the eyesore's gone, let's keep the fun going. Drinks are on me. Have a blast, everyone!"

The music struck up. Shock softened into uneasy laughter, and soon the revelry returned, urged on by Brixton's men until the crowd willingly drowned itself in pleasure once more.

Rodger's body was carried away, his blood erased from the

Rodger's body was carried away, his blood erased from the polished floor, the hall returning to its decadent mask of sin.

In the midst of the chaos, Hannah's sharp eyes caught Scorpio -he was entirely preoccupied with keeping his men moving,barking orders to steady the shaken room. The satellite phone at his waist had slipped out during the commotion.

Her opportunity came! Her breath surged as she let herself stumble forward, clutching the edge of the table as if dizzy from the aftermath. Step by step, she brushed past Scorpio's back.

Her hand darted, swift and practiced. A whisper of contact, and the device slid seamlessly into her sleeve.

The theft was over before a heartbeat passed.

Hannah steadied herself, pressing her hand to her chest,feigning tremors of shock. She backed intothe corner with the crowd, her expression innocent.

But inside, her triumph rang clear-she had it. She had succeeded.