Chapter 146: The Battle Of Luck
"All in."
Lola squinted her eyes with a wide smile, tilting her head slightly. For a second, everyone’s mouths parted as their gazes fell on the briefcase. Stacks upon stacks of chips worth a million each were inside.
They gulped, eyes darting between the case she pushed to the center and the radiant smile on her face.
She’s bluffing, the man in the white suit told himself, his hands trembling slightly over his cards. How much is that now??
His breathing slowed as he tried to silence the whispers and mounting pressure around him. Not just him — everyone still in the game forced themselves to block out the noise and focus.
On the table sat a minimum of a hundred million. With the existing bets, it was closer to a hundred and fifty million. Even at a high-stakes table, this was no small amount. Whoever called this round stood to win a fortune — enough to walk away early, or keep playing with more than enough to spare.
But if they lost... that was another story entirely.
Each player studied Lola’s expression. She looked too happy — happy enough to look like a foolish, pretty girl out of her depth.
Was she bluffing? Or was she genuinely lucky this time?
"Place your bets," the dealer finally prompted, his eyes flicking to the next player.
The first man stared at Lola a moment longer before huffing. "I’ll fold." He leaned back. No way was he risking everything. Unlike these thrill-seekers, gambling was his business — he gambled to earn, not to bleed out.
The next man also folded, not wanting to go home early.
The third followed, but his reason was that he was already deep in debt. His chips were all he had left — well, his chips and his life. Better to fold and still afford gas money home.
Then it was the man in the white suit’s turn.
Now, all eyes fell on him. On the outside, he carried a stoic look. But inside, he was sweating through his shirt. He studied Lola carefully, his breath slow. Even the audience held theirs, waiting for his answer.
She’s bluffing, he told himself again. Earlier she folded strong cards and lost. She barely knows the game. Now she’s trying to win it all back in one go. A desperate bet.
He rocked his head slightly and peeked at his cards.
A straight flush, he reminded himself, drawing a tiny bit of comfort from his cards. She’d need a royal flush to beat this. No way she’s that lucky.
With renewed confidence, he inhaled deeply and nodded.
When he lifted his head, he smirked. "Call."
Gasps rippled across the table, and then, quiet cheers followed. It wasn’t their money on the line, but the adrenaline was infectious.
Lola’s smile faltered, just for a second. But it was enough for him to notice.
Ha! Thought I’d miss that? he sneered inwardly. Sorry, sweetheart. I won’t lose this round. But maybe... I’ll take you to dinner afterward.
His thoughts trailed off when Lola’s lips curved into a sly smirk. It was subtle, but enough for him to catch the glint in her eyes.
"You..." he muttered.
"Show cards," the dealer announced.
Snapping out of his daze, the man tossed his cards onto the table. The second everyone saw them, gasps rose from the crowd.
"That’s a straight flush," someone whispered. "He’s going to win, right? No one can beat that."
"The chances of a royal flush are less than one percent," another murmured. "Not even half a percent. There’s no way."
"She’s done for."
The man almost nodded in agreement. That’s what he’d been telling himself. A royal flush was the dream hand and the rarest one.
And yet... staring at Lola, he felt no reassurance. If anything, his nervousness ramped up. His back was drenched in sweat.
Lola exhaled slowly, her eyes sweeping across the table and the crowd. She could feel their anticipation, and very few were already giving her a pitying look.
"I’m lucky," she declared with a wide grin, flipping her cards. "Tada! Wow! I think today really is my lucky day — maybe even my real birthday!"
Her voice echoed as silence fell around them. Everyone stared at the cards she had tossed, mouths dropping to the floor. What was gleaming before them was what every single one of them called a dream card.
Even the man who had gone all in with her felt his jaw hit the floor.
"No way..." someone whispered. "He just lost... a fortune."
"How unlucky can you be?" another muttered. "A straight flush, and then that? A royal flush on the table?"
On any other day, his hand would’ve been the best one possible. But today, lady luck had clearly chosen someone else.
He stared at Lola, his complexion pale as a sheet, while she calmly collected her winnings.
No way... he thought, his heart sinking. There’s no way...
"You cheated, didn’t you?!" he suddenly roared, slamming his hands on the table. Lola and the others flinched as he pointed at her, eyes burning with fury. "You cheated!"
"Cheated?" Lola tilted her head, her frown matching the disapproval of the crowd. "Sir, how can you accuse me of that? CCTV cameras surround this table. I’m very innocent — just lucky."
She lifted a finger. "If I were cheating, I’d already have been caught. Isn’t that right, gentlemen?"
"That’s right!" someone snapped from the audience. "You can’t just accuse people because you lost."
"When you were winning earlier, nobody threw a tantrum. Now you lose once and cry foul?"
"Pathetic."
"Please refrain from accusations," the dealer said firmly, pressing his earpiece. "Our monitoring team confirms no cheating occurred."
The man’s face turned crimson as the crowd muttered against him. "You’re all in this together, are you?!" he barked, but his voice only turned more people against him.
"Mister," Lola said calmly, raising her hand, "if you really think I’m cheating... then how about we play a little more?"
Her smile was dazzling, her tone sweet, but her eyes burned sharp. "It’s not like I plan to run away after winning big. Let’s play more... of course, according to your budget."
The man’s eyes wavered as he stared at the devil cloaked in an angel’s charm. A part of him screamed to walk away, save face, and cut his losses. But the greed inside whispered that she couldn’t stay this lucky.
It took him just minutes to realize he should’ve left. Because five games later, his losses had doubled.