Page 12 of The Bratva's Forbidden Pregnancy

My opponents were watching me closely, and some of them were whispering to themselves, likely plotting my demise.

“If you call, you will lose,” Simon said. “It’s a shitty move, boss. Don’t make it.”

Running the numbers in my head, I glanced at the pile of chips at the center of the table while attempting to shake off the thoughts of Sienna that flooded my mind.

I couldn’t afford to lose, so I had to force myself back into the game. I had a reputation to protect, and I wasn’t going to give these losers a reason to go home happy.

They’d been anticipating my downfall, and for the past few minutes, they had a glimpse of hope that I would actually lose.

The next few rounds were a blur of bets and raises, and Simon’s concern seemed to amplify by the second.

I locked eyes with Mr. Kincaid, the old man sitting directly opposite me. He’d never won against me, but tonight, he felt like he was lucky, like I was losing. He smirked at me, revealing the green stuck in his teeth.

Silently, I drummed my fingers on the table’s edge, calculating and evaluating what move I’d make next.

Again, Simon saw my cards and asked, “Are you sure about this?”

I turned to him, exuding confidence. “Do you trust me?”

I knew he did, but he didn’t seem sure I was making the right move.

“I do,” he finally said, his tone laced with uncertainty.

“Then sit back and watch,” I said.

He saw the conviction in my eyes and decided to let me do my thing.

I faced Mr. Kincaid, watching him sternly so I wouldn’t miss the reaction on his face.

With a final glance at my cards, I finally made my move.

“Call,” I said, pushing my chips into the center.

Tension filled the air, and I could tell that even my associates were concerned about how this would turn out. The room was charged with a sense of unease as the cards were revealed.

At this point, my gaze was fixed on Mr. Kincaid, and he seemed stressed by the way I was looking at him. His confidence was depleting by the second; he was anxious about what the cards would reveal.

“Yes!” Simon said softly as the cards showed that I had won.

Mr. Kincaid and the others had looks of shock and disbelief written all over their faces. He glared at me, gritting his teeth and frowning like that would change the fact that I was, once again, victorious.

I smirked.

He hated me, always had. But I didn’t give two fucks.

Gambling was something I did for fun, not for money. I simply loved a good game, and I loved winning. Plus, putting people like Mr. Kincaid in their place always brought me joy. I loved that they hated me and couldn’t do anything about it.

The rage on Kincaid's face was priceless. He was boiling, and his eyes had practically turned red.

“You did it again,” Simon said to me. “But he doesn’t look so happy about it.” He nodded toward my rival, whose eyes closed in a silent mockery.

Kincaid was a businessman and a boss of a rival organization. He was ruthless in his dealings, at least so I heard. However, he knew better than to try anything silly around me.

This wasn’t our first showdown in this casino, and each time he faced off against me, he lost. So, I guess his anger was justified. He clearly hated losing, and I had a feeling that he’d continue to try, hoping that, someday, luck would smile on him and that he’d win.

Yeah, right.

I heard my phone buzz, and, glancing at the lit screen, I squinted, a little surprised by the identity of the caller.

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