Chapter 76
The tension in the room was thick with unspoken words, and Myra could feel the eyes of the three men on her as she continued to fumble through the poker game. Every time her hand brushed against Tony’s, her skin tingled with discomfort—he was so close, so focused on guiding her, that it almost felt like he was controlling the situation in ways she couldn’t quite comprehend.
She was about to flip over another card when his fingers brushed hers once more, his hand effortlessly manipulating hers. Myra froze, the warmth of his touch making her feel like she was losing control. Flustered, she pushed her chair back with a start and stood up, her face turning a deep shade of red.
“How about you take over, Director Hart?” she suggested, her voice a mix of frustration and embarrassment. Her hands were trembling slightly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, trying to avoid looking directly at him. She couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was becoming too overwhelming.
Tony’s expression didn’t change. He raised an eyebrow at her sudden withdrawal, his gaze piercing but calm. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone surprisingly soothing. “Just play a few more rounds, and you’ll get the hang of it.”
But just as he spoke, his phone buzzed. He answered it, excused himself, and left the room. Myra let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, but the quiet that followed was no relief. The other men—Elliot, Lucas, and Philip—knew exactly why Tony had left, exchanging knowing glances as they continued to play.
The atmosphere in the room was relaxed, almost teasing, but Myra couldn’t help but feel out of place. Without Tony guiding her, she soon found herself lost in the game. Her chips were quickly dwindling, and with Tony’s absence, she was left scrambling to keep up.
Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Elliot—clearly relishing his victory—leaned forward with a smug smile. “Don’t worry, Miss Stark,” he teased, “Tony won’t miss such a small amount.”
Myra’s face burned with embarrassment as she glanced at the empty drawer beside her. It was already clear that she had lost everything.
As if on cue, the door swung open. She turned, expecting another one of the men to walk in, but instead, her eyes lit up when she saw Tony entering the room. Her relief was evident, even to herself, as she unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. Tony’s gaze immediately locked on her, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, almost imperceptibly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with concern.
Without hesitation, Myra stood up, her embarrassment pushing her to make a hasty exit. “I don’t want to play anymore. You should play instead,” she said, her voice small, her cheeks still flushed from the earlier events. “I… don’t quite know how to play.”
Tony’s eyes briefly flickered to the small drawer beside her, where the last of her chips had disappeared. Understanding dawned on him, and a slight glimmer of amusement passed through his usually impassive expression.
“Just rest a little,” Elliot chimed in, not one to miss an opportunity. “Tony won’t mind playing for you.”
Myra, feeling embarrassed beyond belief, waved her hands in protest. “That’s okay. I have to work tomorrow, so I should go now.” She quickly gathered her things, trying to escape the increasingly awkward situation.
Tony, however, seemed to have other plans. His gaze shifted to Elliot, who had been eagerly eyeing the chips, and then to the others who were still playing. With a subtle flick of his wrist, Tony glanced at his watch, a slight frown on his face.
“It’s late,” he murmured, signaling the end of the game.
Elliot, still riding his winning streak, looked a little disappointed but quickly reined it in when Lucas kicked him under the table. “You should head home and rest,” Lucas suggested, addressing Myra now. “We’re planning to go for karaoke later. Would you mind dropping Tony off on your way?”
Myra hesitated, then reluctantly nodded, realizing that her earlier attempt to leave had been thwarted. She had wanted nothing more than to escape the tension, but now, with Tony needing a ride, she found herself stuck in the middle of it all.
As she turned to leave, Elliot chimed in once again, his tone teasing, “Don’t forget, Miss Stark, you still owe me for that last round.” He glanced meaningfully at Tony’s chips. “Looks like Tony’s villa in the south will be mine.”
Myra’s face went beet red at his words. “I… I didn’t forget,” she stammered, trying to brush it off, but a sliver of guilt gnawed at her. She could feel her pulse quicken, unsure whether Elliot was just joking or if there was some truth to his claim.
Tony, however, remained unfazed. “As you like,” he said placidly, his expression unreadable.
Seeing Myra’s discomfort, Elliot snickered, then stood up to leave. “I’ll accompany you to your car, Miss Stark. It’s dangerous around here at night,” he said, all too eager to take advantage of the situation.
Just then, a sleek black Lamborghini pulled up outside, its tires screeching as it came to a halt. The car door slammed open, and a grim-faced man stepped out, his sharp gaze scanning the area before landing on a woman in a pale pink dress.
“Here, Sean!” the woman called out, waving at him.
The man—Sean—strode over to her, his eyes narrowing as he approached. “Was everything you said on the phone earlier true?” His voice was low and cold, his lips pressed into a thin line. The night air around them seemed to darken in response to his mood.
Lyla, visibly shaken, nodded hesitantly. “I think I got the right person. I saw Myra earlier. She went into VIP Room A with a man’s jacket,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sean’s eyes turned ice-cold at the mention of VIP Room A. The implications were clear to anyone in Bradfort City—Elliot’s private room. No outsiders were allowed.
Lyla hesitated again before speaking up, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’m not sure if I should tell you this, but… I saw Myra with a man’s suit, and it made me restless.”
Sean’s jaw tightened as he processed the information. The air around him seemed to thicken with unspoken tension. He didn’t respond immediately, his mind clearly racing with the new developments. The night was far from over, and it seemed as though things were just getting started.