The dealer placed the box before Sophia Sullivan.
Inside lay a dagger stained with dark crimson and a revolver gleaming coldly.
Sophia arched a brow with amusement. "Quite the unconventional gift."
Before her words faded, Ethan Sullivan materialized silently at her side.
His voice was a low rumble. "These are tainted. Let me handle them."
Sophia glanced up.
The black dress shirt clung to his torso, accentuating every taut muscle beneath the restraint straps. An aura of disciplined restraint surrounded him.
His face remained as impassive as frozen tundra.
Ethan picked up the dagger casually.
Sophia's gaze dropped to his hands.
Long fingers, each joint distinctly defined, veins tracing powerful ridges along the back. Pure, coiled strength.
A silk handkerchief glided over the blade. Blood bloomed across the pristine fabric like macabre poppies.
"Fine craftsmanship."
Ethan's tone was even, yet carried glacial undertones.
His eyes locked with Julian Valentine's across the room.
Invisible sparks crackled between their stares.
The blade suddenly pierced through the cloth.
A soft, deliberate tear.
Crimson and white twisted violently together.
The metallic tang of blood mingled with his cool, masculine scent.
Ethan's expression never wavered.
"Silver-gilded Nepalese kukri. Rare on the market."
He drove the dagger into the gambling table with effortless precision.
Clang—
The blade sang sharply.
Its edge reflected in his fathomless eyes.
"Rumor says only M-Country mafia core members wield these."
Ethan's voice was deceptively lazy, his gaze frostbitten.
An overwhelming presence flooded the space like an incoming tide.
Julian chuckled smoothly. "Merely an expensive collector's item."
He reclined into the sofa, black leather gloves catching the light.
"At this level, everyone has... unique connections."
His smile was spring breeze warm.
His cadence resonated like cathedral bells.
Yet everyone knew his reputation.
The underworld king even the mafia treated with deference.
"I see."
Ethan lifted the revolver.
His fingers spun the cylinder with rhythmic clicks.
"Unlike daggers, guns are refreshingly direct. Much like human nature—brutally simple."
"Our philosophies differ, Mr. Sullivan."
Julian's gaze slid to Sophia.
"A dagger excels at overturning desperate situations."
To him, this blade mirrored Sophia perfectly.
Equally sharp.
Equally lethal.
Yet dazzling as the ruby pommel.
The air crystallized.
An invisible pressure encased the room.
Bystanders held their breaths, wary of provoking these two titans.
Wesley's eyes flickered with surprise.
The boss never gifted casually—let alone this symbolic dagger.
Clearly, Crimson Serpent had captured Julian's interest.
He approached Sophia with practiced diplomacy.
"Ms. Crimson Serpent, as tonight's victor, the Underground City property is now permanently yours."
"Additionally, all your expenses here this year will be covered as compensation."
Sophia nodded briskly. "Done."
She knew Wesley was opportunistic.
But mutual benefit made pretenses tolerable.
Her gaze swept the periphery.
Liam Winston and Chloe Evans were being escorted to settlement.
Black-suited men wordlessly cleared the aftermath.
The screams had long since silenced.
This farce had finally concluded.
"Time to go, Mr. Sullivan."
Sophia stretched languidly.
"The payout will arrive on schedule. No need to linger."
Such were the Underground City's rules.
All winnings were processed discreetly.
As for the losers' fates? Everyone understood.
Liam and Chloe's night would be... educational.
Once the crowd dispersed, Julian tapped the table thoughtfully.
"Wesley, dig into Crimson Serpent and Ethan Sullivan's backgrounds."
He studied the dagger's deep scar in the wood.
"Specifically, their relationship."