Chapter 27

What's the point of a game without stakes?

Nathan Blackwood's piercing gaze lingered on Evelyn Sinclair's impassive profile. "Well? What do you think?"

Before Evelyn could respond, Tristan Whitmore scoffed and cut in. "If Nathan loses, I'll walk out of here stark naked. But if Evelyn loses—"

His eyes flicked dismissively toward Sebastian and Julian Hart before continuing in a mocking tone, "You'll have to publicly admit you married into the Blackwood family for money. And you'll never show your face in San Francisco again. Evelyn, do you have the guts to take that bet?"

Sebastian and Julian Hart exchanged stunned glances.

Isabella Montgomery shot to her feet, ready to defend her best friend, but Natalie Beaumont tugged her back down with a warning look.

Nathan's brow furrowed deeper. He opened his mouth to intervene—

Evelyn let out a derisive laugh and arched one perfect eyebrow. "Fine. I accept."

The way she looked at Nathan then—like he wasn't even worth her time—sent a ripple of tension through the room.

Tristan nearly choked on his drink. Did this woman have any idea who she was up against?

Nathan Blackwood was unbeatable at poker dice. He could play blindfolded and still wipe the floor with anyone in this city. Hell, he'd won his first million in Vegas with these same skills. Compared to him, everyone else here might as well be amateurs.

Finally, Tristan thought, I'll get my revenge today.

Nathan extended a hand. "Ladies first."

Evelyn picked up the dice shaker with effortless grace. She gave it two casual shakes before setting it down, her fingers resting lightly on top. "Your turn."

Nathan studied her, his frown deepening. She wasn't even trying. Did she truly not care about the consequences of losing?

Tristan was practically vibrating with excitement. "Look at that pathetic attempt! Two shakes? That's it? No way she—"

Nathan lifted his own cup. Four of a kind. A guaranteed win.

He glanced at Evelyn. Her expression hadn't changed.

Tristan whooped. "That's my man! I almost thought you'd go easy on her."

Sebastian Hart chuckled from the sidelines. "Mr. Whitmore, Nathan has never gone easy on Evelyn. Though I must say, it's impressive to finally witness his skills firsthand."

"Enough flattery!" Tristan snapped. "Evelyn, show us your hand already. Don't be a sore loser."

"Tristan Whitmore!" Isabella slammed her palms on the table. "The loudest bark comes from the weakest dog. Shut your damn mouth!"

Evelyn watched the escalating tension with mild amusement. She tapped her dice cup twice before flipping it over in one smooth motion.

Before anyone could react, she grabbed her purse and stood. "I'm leaving. Enjoy the show."

While Isabella and Julian gaped, Natalie and Sebastian remained eerily calm—as if they'd expected this outcome all along.

Tristan's triumphant grin died when he saw Evelyn's dice.

Five of a kind.

How? She'd barely even shaken the damn things!

By the time he looked up, Evelyn was already gone.

Isabella smirked and rapped her knuckles against the table. "Mr. Whitmore, don't forget your part of the bargain. Strip and march—just like you said, no sore losers."

"You—you cheated!" Tristan's face burned crimson.

"Cheated?" Isabella's laugh was razor-sharp. "You're the one who insisted on this game. These are the standard rules, yet you cry foul when you lose? If you can't handle the stakes, you shouldn't have played." She turned to Nathan with a saccharine smile. "Don't you agree, Mr. Blackwood?"

Tristan shot his best friend a desperate, pleading look. Save me, his expression screamed.

Nathan's gaze swept over Isabella, then the Hart brothers, before finally settling on Tristan. "We lost."

His voice was calm. Unreadable.

Earlier, Nathan had noticed something odd—the sound of Evelyn's dice hadn't matched the movement of her hand. But strangely, he didn't feel upset about losing.

If anything, he was... intrigued.