Chapter 147: Devil’s Gambit
Money used to mean a lot of things to Lola. Back then, she thought that if she had plenty of it, she would be happier. That maybe, she wouldn’t have so many problems. At one point, she truly believed that with enough money, she could live peacefully.
But she had been wrong.
Money had helped her in many ways. It gave her confidence, resources, and expanded her reach. But there was only so much it could do.
Now seated in the driver’s seat of her car, Lola held a bank passbook between her fingers.
"This is a lot..." she hummed to herself, staring at the deposit slip from her winnings. "What am I going to do with all of this?"
She tilted her head. "How can he be so unlucky, though?"
To be fair, the money she’d converted from chips was the amount she had been ready to lose. It wasn’t a small sum; losing it would’ve stung. But it was still an amount she had mentally prepared to part with.
Yet after her big win, she had planned to lose gradually and let him win a little back. Sadly, his first huge loss clouded his judgment. Hence, he kept spiraling and losing the rest of the game.
"And he’s a terrible bluffer too," she muttered, rocking her head in mild pity. "I was rooting for him... but oh well."
Her luck had simply been stronger. Tossing the passbook onto the passenger seat, she adjusted her rearview mirror — just in time to catch sight of him storming toward his sports car.
"God damn it!" he roared, kicking the car in frustration. "That bitch—damn it!"
Lola raised her brows, shrinking back in her seat as she watched him throw a tantrum. His rage wasn’t surprising. But the amount he had lost...
"More money than a former pimp like him should ever touch," she whispered.
She wasn’t intimately familiar with the depths of that ugly business, but she knew it wasn’t nearly profitable enough to build such wealth. Unless he had discovered another income stream. Which she doubted — because if he had, Amala would have found it.
That was why Lola had joined the poker table in the first place: to see how much he could actually shell out. And he had surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to wield that much cash.
"Where is he getting it from?" She murmured, watching him finally stop raging. "Or rather, how?"
When he climbed into his car and sped away, she started her engine and followed him again.
He drove to a bar. Odd choice, considering he could have stayed in the casino’s lounge. But maybe his bitterness was too raw to linger where he’d lost.
It was still daytime, so the bar was technically closed. Yet the staff let him in. Lola didn’t dare follow him. That would’ve been foolish. He would recognize her instantly. Besides, she hadn’t planned to stalk him all day.
Instead, she parked discreetly near his car, whistling to herself as she strolled across the lot. She slowed when she neared his sports car, her eyes flicking to the CCTV cameras.
Leaning casually against the car, she lowered her head, pulling a slim card from her pocket. Carefully, she worked at the lock.
"Come on..." she whispered, trying to unlock the car. "Come one..."
Click.
A soft click rewarded her patience, making her smile. Without wasting a second, she slipped a small device under the passenger seat, shut the door, and darted back to her own car.
*****
Meanwhile, inside the bar, the man downed liquor like water.
SLAM!
"Hah!" He dropped his glass onto the counter, chest heaving heavily. "Damn that fox!"
Just recalling Lola’s face reignited his fury. She had played the innocent angel look while being the devil herself. Who could have known that kind of face could carry such evilness?
"Damn it!" he spat out, his anger drowning beneath the weight of his losses. "Shit... I’ve lost everything."
Well, not everything. He still had something in his account. But it wasn’t nearly enough to fund his lavish lifestyle.
His fists slammed against the bar before an idea struck him.
"Right..." he muttered, pulling out his phone. "It’s still not over for me."
Pressing his phone to his ear, the call rang. Sadly, no one answered. Hence, he tried again, only for the ringing to end. He tried a few more times, and still, no one picked up the line.
"That damn bitch," he hissed, glaring at the screen. "Think you can ignore me?"
Seething, he typed furiously:
[To: Miss Young
You can’t just ignore me. It’s been a while since I reached out — you have to help me this time. I’ve helped you plenty before. We have history.]
Still no reply. So, he fired off another:
[To: Miss Young
Don’t make me come to your house. Answer me, or I’ll drop by myself.]
*****
Moments later, Lola was already gone. She hadn’t bothered waiting for him to finish drinking. Instead, she drove off, letting the planted device do its work.
Much to her surprise, she barely pulled into the garden renovation site when his voice buzzed into her earpiece.
"That damn bitch... does she think I’m not serious?"
Seated in her car, Lola ignored the sight of workers bustling across her mother’s property. She bit her thumb, listening quietly as his drunken slurs crackled through the feed.
For the next thirty minutes, there was nothing useful she heard from him. Then, she heard the faint creak of a car window rolling down, followed by his voice:
"Good afternoon, chief! Is Miss Melissa Young home?"
*****
At the same time, the man stopped in front of the gates of the Young Residence. The driver’s window rolled down, his arm hanging lazily outside it, while the residence’s bodyguard stepped up beside the car.
"Good afternoon, chief!" the man greeted with a grin. "Is Miss Melissa Young home?"
The guard eyed him carefully, taking in the lavish sports car and the faint stench of alcohol wafting from the driver’s breath. He instinctively leaned back a little.
"And who might you be, sir?" the guard asked cautiously. "Miss Melissa isn’t home at the moment, but I can let her know someone came looking for her."
"Ahh..." the man chuckled, nodding. "Sure! Tell her that her friend stopped by to say hello. I just arrived in the country, and she once told me that if I ever visited Novera, she’d show me around."
The guard gave a slow nod. "I see. I’ll let her know then. May I have your name?"
"Hudson," the man replied smoothly. "Just Hudson."