The unknown figure looked at the man in the white suit, then at the girl in the yellow attire, before his eyes finally settled on the bouncers surrounding them. With an expression that suggested he understood the situation, he moved closer to the blonde man to whisper. But before his lips could even near the man's ear, the blonde man spoke: "I believe anything you want to say can be said out loud so that I can hear it well. Surely someone of your stature shouldn't go around whispering into people's ears."
A wave of nausea rose in the figure's throat, but his face held a fake smile as he countered, "I don't want to talk about private matters out loud. Why don't we head into a nearby stall, away from all this attention?"
The blonde man looked around at the growing roar of the audience and asked, "What do you take this place for, a church? I'm not a priest you confess your sins to. Talk about whatever you want—we are men, and we shall handle it like men."
Defeated, the unknown figure replied, "I must say, I was enjoying the company of this young lady." He shot a glance at the depressed woman in the chair opposite him. Conscious of the crowd, the girl in yellow comported herself with a fragile poise to look slightly less despondent. Turning back to the blonde man, he continued, "I was wondering if I could continue playing my game and increasing my returns with her by my side."
The crowd's cheers surged as they realized the "private matter" the unknown figure had tried to hide. The blonde man, having decoded the unknown figure's true intent, gritted his teeth even as he maintained his smile. Knowing he had to entertain the crowd, he granted the request: "You are invited, but I'm afraid you will have to foot the bill for the lady."
The cheers trailed off into a low murmur before exploding into a rhythmic chant: "FOOT THE BILL! FOOT THE BILL! FOOT THE BILL!"
The unknown figure extended a hand to the lady in yellow before looking up at the man in the white suit. "How much is the bill?" he asked.
Although the man in white fully expected the newcomer to pay, he still flickered with a moment of surprise at the blunt request. He quickly smoothed his features, his expression returning to a practiced mask. "It is ten grand," he replied slickly. "Pay ten grand now, and take millions home."
The unknown figure appeared to weigh the offer for a moment before snapping open his suitcase to produce the ten thousand dollars. Seeing the sheer amount he was willing to pay for her company, the striking young woman looked at him with entirely new eyes. A wave of her lost pride returned to her, bringing a flurry of butterflies to her stomach; her pale face flushed a deep, beautiful red as a whirlwind of emotions took hold.
She reverted to the person she had been before this man had won all her money—but this time, she didn't look at him as a "nobody" or someone she could simply bill for her time. This time, she felt a profound respect, a surge of happiness, and a glimmer of... love.
As the bouncers swept the money into a heavy cloth bag, the man in white maintained his rigid smile. Internally, however, he was fuming. He watched his own fiancée cling to the unknown figure, and he desperately wished she would stop casting those "love stares" at another man. He was convinced the unknown figure was nothing more than a loser with cheap tricks; he wanted the man to lose the game so his fiancée would see the truth. And if the cards didn't make him lose, he was determined to ensure it happened himself.
Meanwhile, the star of the occasion continued to move through the room, refusing to let his face betray the storm inside. He was no stranger to love or emotion; though he appeared to be a tight-lipped, stoic gambler, he was secretly relishing the direction the party was taking. Yet, he was acutely aware of the danger. With every card he played, his heart trembled as a single question echoed in his mind: "What if I lose?"
The man in the white suit led the way into a hidden chamber, stalling occasionally to glance back at his fiancée. He watched with simmering resentment as she wooed the stoic unknown figure. To him, this newcomer wasn't worthy of such devotion; he felt the man was a masochist, hiding behind a tight-lipped facade while secretly enjoying the way the man in white's "bright smile" was beginning to crack.
Upon arriving, the man in white offered the unknown figure a seat, curtly announcing that he was preparing the room for the upcoming game. Left to his own devices, the unknown figure scanned his surroundings. He would have preferred an honest conversation with the lady in yellow, but he quickly realized that was impossible. Every question he asked was met with an obvious lie, making any real connection seamless—or rather, nonexistent.
He forced a polite smile, but when his gaze drifted toward her, he was met with a subtle, hungry glare. She seemed to be waiting for a kiss or some reaction to the "flirtatious" touches she was currently trailing across less-than-appropriate parts of his body.
Turning his attention back to the room to escape her advances, he found himself impressed by the craftsmanship. The space was a masterclass in crimson; various shades of red bled into one another to create a stunning, opulent lobby.
If the waiting area was this magnificent, he wondered what the high-stakes arena itself would look like. Noticing his wandering eyes, the woman in yellow followed his gaze. The way he looked at the architecture reminded her of a nerd she once knew—the kind of person she believed could never truly understand emotion. Still, she was determined to make this "relationship" work. She broke the silence abruptly.
"Can I see your phone?"
Without a second thought, the stranger handed her a switched-off burner phone.
Suppressing a laugh, thinking it was a joke, she pushed it back. "No... I mean your real phone."
Genuinely confused, he looked from the device to her and back again. "Phone? This... this is my phone."
The realization that he wasn't joking silenced her. She began to ramble about the newest iPhone series to fill the awkward void, but she was quickly cut off as the man in white returned. He ushered them, along with a few others from the lobby, toward the game.
The unknown figure regained his stoic mask as he stood, but the moment he peaked through the heavy red curtains leading to the inner sanctum, his expression fractured into a mix of surprise, confusion, and deep wariness.