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Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Chapter 390
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Chapter 390

The crowd’s gaze wasn’t on Connor; instead, it was fixated on Brielle.

Seated around the table were faces regularly splashed across the finance sections of

newspapers, scions of the top ten magnate families of Beaconsfield, and North American

blue bloods like Dustin.

And Brielle? She was none of these things. Yet here she was, taking her seat at this

thrilling. eye–opening poker game, her posture poised with a confidence that belied her

status.

Typically, the women accompanying the high rollers to a casino like this clung to their

benefactors, playing the role of arm candy with a practiced grace. They would barely dare

to breathe too loudly while their patrons studied their cards, fearing to provoke any

displeasure.

This casino epitomized luxury, and many guests often brought along the top ladies of the

entertainment industry as their dates, ranging from award–winning actresses to adored

ingénues. Even the most seasoned celebrities would find themselves awestruck upon their

first visit to this establishment, but Brielle’s eyes betrayed no such wonder, sparking

curiosity. in those around her.

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However, the people here weren’t as gossipy as the online trolls, who threw around vicious

comments without a second thought. Most of those critics weren’t worth a million, while

the ones standing in this room were at least millionaires.

Experience limits one’s perspective, perspective limits ability, and ability dictates the

playing field–it’s a vicious cycle. That was why most of the crowd wouldn’t stoop to vulgar

insults about a woman.

But Connor was the exception. Seeing Brielle ready to join the game, he couldn’t help but

laugh. outright. “Brielle, come on, are you serious? Borrowing money from Mr. Lynch to bet

at this table? Can you handle the loss if your luck runs out? Do you have any idea how

much money goes into the pot in a no–limit game?”

Even if Brielle was once a miss of the Haywood family, they hadn’t provided her with a life

of luxury. Her car wasn’t even worth two hundred thousand. Could she possibly have any

experience with Texas Hold’em?

Unperturbed, Brielle simply placed her chips in front of her and spoke with nonchalance.

“So, I just won’t lose, right?”

Her matter–of–fact tone left Connor speechless. His body was shaking with silent rage,

thought he couldn’t do anything as everyone had taken their seats. He scoffed and

muttered under his breath.

“We’ll just see you crying all the way home tonight. Then you’ll realize that there are

places that just aren’t meant for lowly people like you.”

Brielle ignored him, instead scanning the other players at the table. Apart from Dustin and

Connor, she recognized everyone else, though only by sight. What puzzled her the most

was

the heir to the Hatfield family, Sammuel, who offered her a warm smile. She could only

return the gesture with a small smile of her own before the dealer appeared, and the room

fell into

silence.

Though Texas Hold’em was a common sight in casinos, playing no–limit was another

league entirely, especially with a wild card like Dustin in the mix. The pot could swell to an

astronomical sum in the blink of an eye.

The attendees, all wealthy in their own right, couldn’t help but steal glances at Brielle,

whose composure seemed to surpass even the most seasoned veterans of high–stakes

games.

As the first round of dealing commenced, the players to the dealer’s left placed their bets,

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six million and three million, respectively.

Without watching the others‘ reactions, Brielle glanced at her own two cards once they

were dealt. Sitting next to her, Dustin also checked his hand. Being to the left of the big

blind, Brielle was the first to act. She raised an eyebrow. “Raise.”

Her raise was twelve million, bringing the pot to twenty–one million.

Spectators were taken aback, some even snickering at the bold move. No–limit games

typically saw cautious plays, and such early raises were either the mark of a seasoned pro

or a ‘Money Burner‘ like Dustin.

Connor’s face twisted into a sneer. “Brielle, maybe you should just go stand prettily in the

corner. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find a man tonight who doesn’t mind your company.”

At his words, Brielle lifted her gaze to meet his. “Mr. Connor, all your talk seems to revolve

around what’s in your pants. Now I understand why your company’s tanking.”

Each word struck a nerve, and Connor, chest heaving with fury, realized he was no match

for Brielle in a verbal spar.

That bitch!

Fine, he thought, tonight he’d make her see that this kind of game was no place for a

woman. Women belonged in bed, legs spread, pleasing men–that was all they were good

for.

He bit back any further comment and cautiously opted to call the bet.

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