"Then I'll go with low," Arnold declared, his voice calm but defiant.
It was clear he intended to oppose Felicia at every turn. If she picked high, he'd pick low.
Arnold's friends were among the crowd of young socialites. They laughed, tossing their chips onto the table. They weren't there for the winnings. To them, this was entertainment, a way to support their friend while watching Felicia lose her composure.
They fully expected to see her flustered and embarrassed by the end of the round.
The dealer rang the bell, signaling the end of bets. The cover lifted to reveal the roll—4-5-5. High!
Felicia won.
A pile of chips quickly stacked up in front of her. She smirked at Arnold, her eyes brimming with challenge. "Do you wanna go another round?"
"Bring it on!" Arnold snorted. His pride stung. "That was just the first round. Beginner's luck."
A new round began. Felicia placed her bet on high again, doubling down without hesitation.
Still fuming, Lucas didn't hesitate. "Low."
Despite raising their eyebrows at Felicia's winning streak, his friends stuck by him and chose low.
The roll came up, and the cover lifted. Unbelievably, it was the exact same result as before—4-5-5. High!
Felicia won again.
She leaned back in her chair, her expression serene but clearly pleased. Meanwhile, Arnold's jaw tightened, his frustration mounting.
"Two rounds don't mean anything," he snapped. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
"Of course not," Felicia replied sweetly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Let's keep going. Maybe this time, you'll actually win."
For the third round, Felicia picked low. Her bet was modest this time, giving the impression she wasn't entirely confident.
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