Return of the Crowned Heiress (Felicia)

When the dice settled and the dealer revealed the numbers-triple sixes-it was exactly as Felicia had guessed-high!

She kept walking, her eyes scanning the tables. Just as one spot opened up at a nearby craps table, she made her way over, ready to join in. But as she turned, she accidentally bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry..." Felicia apologized reflexively, but when she looked up, her face immediately stiffened. Arnold stood in front of her, his expression dark as a thundercloud.

Arnold frowned, his gaze sharp. He had spotted her from a distance and thought she looked familiar, but he wasn't sure. Now that they were up close, there was no mistaking it.

"This isn't a place you should be," Arnold said sharply, his voice laced with authority.

Felicia's mood soured instantly. She wasn't in the mood for his lectures. "It's none of your business," she snapped, brushing past him.

Before she could take another step, Arnold grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "You're leaving-now."

His tone brooked no argument as he tried to pull her away from the table. Felicia stumbled, struggling to keep her balance under the sheer force of his grip.

That was the last straw. Fury bubbled to the surface as she twisted in his grasp. Leaning in, she bit down hard on his hand.

Arnold hissed in pain, jerking his hand back to examine the damage. Deep, crimson teeth marks marred his wrist, the edges already beginning to swell.

His expression darkened further as he glared at her. "Felicia, don't push it!"

"I'm not the one out of line here-it's you," she shot back, her eyes blazing. "What I do and where I go is none of your concern. Maybe you should stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!"

The intensity in her gaze made it clear she wasn't backing down. If looks could kill, Stephan was sure he'd be a pile of ashes by now.

For a moment, they locked eyes in a battle of wills. Arnold's frustrationThis content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

boiled over, and he let out a humorless laugh. "Fine. Do you want to gamble? Let's play. Let's see just how bold you really are."

Felicia wiped her mouth with a

tissue, a fook of disdain flashing-et

across her face, but she didn't hesitate. "Fine. I'll take you on Name your stakes."

The tension between them was electric, drawing attention from onlookers. People began whispering when they recognized the two. They speculated about the drama

unfolding before their eyes.

Before long, the table was filled with curious spectators, many of them young socialites eager to join the action.

"This looks fun. Count me in!" one of them chimed, tossing down his chips.

"Me too!" another added.

"Don't leave me out," a third called, squeezing into the already-crowded table.

Sensing the heated energy and growing crowd, the dealer smiled nervously. "Alright, folks. What kind of game are we playing?"

Arnold's eyes stayed locked on Felicia. "Something simple. No excuses later about being outmatched."

Felicia let out a dry laugh. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The dealer set up the game, the familiar sound of dice shaking filling the air as anticipation mounted.

Felicia exchanged her cash for chips. It wasn't much as her resources were limited at the moment, but she didn't hesitate.

When it was her turn, she pushed all her chips to the center of the table.

"High!"