Forbidden Passion
Chapter 337 Is She a Devil?

Phoebe walked in alone, and the bodyguards in the shadows immediately eyed her suspiciously. She headed straight to the gambling table where yesterday's video was taken. The same dealer was there. She leaned against the table and placed her bets casually, winning every time, whether she bet high or low.

The gambling house knew how to set people up. They let you win first, making you feel unbeatable, so you'd fall right into their trap.

Seeing her win several rounds, someone nearby started following her bets. Just as the dealer was about to deal, Phoebe leaned in and whispered something to him. The dealer's hand shook, and he looked at her in shock.

Phoebe smiled innocently. "Deal the cards."

The dealer turned pale but said, "I'll deal!" and dealt the cards. Phoebe won again.

At that moment, a large group of people in ragged clothes poured in through the entrance. Despite their appearance, they headed straight for Phoebe's table. The security guards tried to drive them away, but there were too many, and they were fearless.

"We have money for chips," a gaunt middle-aged man said, holding up cash.

These people, living at the bottom of society, decided to take a big gamble, hoping to change their lives.

The gambling house, running a legitimate business, couldn't openly act against them. The floor manager pressed the intercom to ask the boss for instructions. Upstairs, a masked man watched the chaos with interest. He had underestimated Phoebe. He had heard her threats through the dealer's earpiece earlier.

Yesterday, he had been careless and left her with leverage. He remembered the professor's assessment of her: Phoebe was the kind of person who, given a lever, could move the earth. And the masked man had given her a lever. Now, he wanted to see how she'd use this motley crew to challenge his gambling house.

Phoebe stood aside, watching. The gambling house wouldn't turn away customers. If you had money to gamble, you were a VIP.

So, Phoebe went to the slums, found the most notorious scoundrels, gave them some money, and had them come to the gambling house.

She glanced at the floor manager, who was probably asking for instructions. She looked up at the third floor and locked eyes with the masked man through a darkened pane of glass. The masked man said, "Play along with her. I want to see what tricks she can pull."

The floor manager disconnected the intercom and gestured to the bodyguards, who dispersed back into the shadows.

Phoebe glanced up at the third floor again. The first step of her plan was successful. The next step was to bring the guy hiding upstairs down.

The group from the slums gathered around the table, not acknowledging Phoebe or even looking at her.

Whatever bet Phoebe placed, the crowd followed. Whenever they won, they cheered loudly.

The gambling house had many tables and games, enough to accommodate a couple hundred people. Hearing Phoebe's table's cheers, people started gathering around. Seeing them win every time, they also began placing bets. At first, not many bet, thinking they were shills. But as they grew bolder, more people started following Phoebe's bets.

Soon, the other tables were deserted, and everyone gathered around Phoebe's table, betting whatever she bet.

The dealer's face grew paler, and cold sweat dripped down his face. In a short time, the gambling house had suffered huge losses.

Upstairs, the masked man figured out Phoebe's plan and got very angry.

Watching the chips being handed out, he knew how much they had lost in just ten minutes.

He had miscalculated!

No wonder the professor praised her so highly. He had truly underestimated her.

The masked man gritted his teeth and said, "Invite Phoebe upstairs."

His subordinate quickly ran downstairs and hurried to the table. There were so many people that he couldn't get through, so he spoke to the dealer through the intercom, "The boss wants to invite Phoebe upstairs." The dealer's face was as white as a sheet. His mental defenses had collapsed. This was the most painful defeat he had ever experienced.

Phoebe was terrifying to him.

How did she rally a dozen people and then over a hundred to gather around this table? His mind was in shambles.

He looked at Phoebe with trembling eyes and said, "Ma'am, our boss would like to invite you upstairs."

Phoebe smiled. "No, I'm not done winning yet. Keep dealing. I remember the rule in Starfall City. As long as there's one customer left, you can't close the house."

The dealer trembled, looking at Phoebe's smile and thinking, 'Is she a demon?'

Others, fearing Phoebe would leave, quickly chimed in, "Yeah, we've been losing for days and haven't won enough yet. Stop talking and deal the cards."

The dealer wiped the sweat from his face with a handkerchief and looked pleadingly at Phoebe.

Phoebe knew when to stop. She gathered up her chips and said, "Wait for me to continue playing. I'm going to meet their boss."

Hearing that, the crowd refused to leave and waited by the table.

Phoebe was escorted to the third floor by several burly men. The entire floor was lavishly decorated, with sofas she had seen in luxury design magazines. The paintings on the walls were antiques, clearly worth a fortune.

At that moment, the masked man was sitting on a sofa, his legs elegantly crossed. When he looked up, Phoebe saw the fox mask on his face. Phoebe's first impression was that he looked very mysterious, and her second impression was that his eyes were full of allure.

It was rare to find such an alluring gambling house owner in this city.

She walked over and sat down across from the masked man, crossing her legs without a hint of fear. "I heard you wanted to see me," she said. The masked man stared at her and said, "You really aren't afraid of death!"

Phoebe heard the electronic modulation in his voice, knowing he wasn't using his real voice. This kind of hiding was quite interesting.

She smirked. "Everyone's afraid of death. Since I dared to come, I've already prepared to leave unscathed."