"Where's KK? I'm here, and he doesn't even bother to show his face. His airs are getting bigger and bigger!"
Though Capone's words sounded like a complaint, there wasn't a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone—it felt more like the teasing of a family member.
A burly man in black beside him quickly bowed his head and muttered a brief explanation before leading Capone toward the second floor of the ship. It turned out this ship had more than just the grand casino hall; there were other exclusive spaces.
They stopped in front of a deep crimson door with red and black patterns, its intricate design exuding an air of elegance and prestige. It was clear this area was reserved for VIPs.
Capone took Sophia inside. The room, as expected, contained a private gambling table, along with a well-stocked bar, refrigerator, and plush sofas. The walls were adorned with golden, embossed wallpaper and dramatic oil paintings. Like most casino environments, this space was windowless, sealed off from the outside world, with every convenience provided to encourage gamblers to immerse themselves entirely in this alternate reality.
"Why did you bring me here?" Sophia couldn't help but ask. She had visited Macau and Atlantic City before, where gambling was more of a tourist activity for her, and she lacked any real skill. Could Capone have brought her here to gamble her life away on dice or Pai Gow?
Capone seemed to read her thoughts, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he replied, "I didn't bring you here to gamble—I brought you to watch others gamble."
"Watch others? Who?"
"A self-proclaimed gambling god," Capone said with a faint smirk, gesturing for one of his men to turn on a large flat-screen monitor in front of them.
At first, Sophia thought it was just a TV, but the image displayed wasn't from another place—it was clearly another room on this ship. The same oil paintings and scarlet carpet confirmed it.
"That's the room next door," Capone explained, pointing to the screen. "The man sitting at the table in the middle—that's the so-called gambling god."
Sophia followed his gaze and saw a man with a calm, refined face, but an air of cold arrogance. Suddenly, she remembered what Capone had said earlier about KK. "Is he the eighth-ranked among you guys?"
"Exactly. Few people know that the KK who's a rising star in the gambling world is our KK."
Sophia's mind flashed back to the time Roger had been whisked away to Macau by his grandmother because their family casino had run into trouble—trouble caused by someone who explicitly stated that Roger had brought it upon himself. That incident had ruined her evening at the ball, left her without any word from Roger for days, and caused so much worry that even her favorite pasta tasted like cardboard. And now, she realized it was all Capone's doing, carried out by none other than this KK.
"So, it was him who stirred up trouble at Roger's family casino? Capone, you—"
"Shh! Quiet. The show is about to start!"
Capone cut her off before she could finish. He knew that if she started talking, she would definitely hold him accountable for that incident, and their conversation would spiral into yet another heated argument. That wasn't the purpose of bringing her here tonight.
Sophia bit back her words, frustration simmering as she glared at him. She felt a pang of anger stuck in her chest, neither rising nor subsiding, and she wanted nothing more than to bite him hard in retaliation.
But her attention was quickly pulled back to the screen, and her eyes widened in shock. "Wait… isn't that Penny?"
"Exactly, it's her." Capone pressed his lips into a tight line, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the screen, a storm of anger brewing beneath his calm facade.
It really was Penny. But who was the slightly overweight, middle-aged man at her side? She had her arm looped through his, their posture intimate, though her face betrayed nervousness as her gaze darted back and forth between the man and the "gambling god."
It had been a while since Sophia last saw Penny. She had lost a little weight but was still as striking and sultry as ever. The last time they crossed paths was during those chaotic days when Zoey had gone missing. Penny had been living under the same roof as Capone, staying in the ROYAL suite, only to be demoted by him to work as a cleaner in the hotel. Sophia still remembered her long hair tied back into a plain bun and the beige uniform she wore as she quietly cleaned their room, her gaze cold and unfriendly, though carefully veiled.
Sophia could tell Penny might have once loved Capone—but she feared him more.
"What's she doing here…?" Sophia muttered softly, glancing at Capone's expression. His barely contained fury made her misinterpret the situation. She thought he was jealous.
Of course, it made sense. Penny had once been his woman, and now here she was, shamelessly cozying up to another man on his turf. For someone like Capone, wasn't this an outright betrayal?
Sophia understood the way Capone and his ilk viewed the world: I may not want it anymore, but no one else is allowed to have it either.
She was the perfect example of this philosophy.
Was that why he had brought her here? To make an example of Penny—to warn her of the consequences of betrayal?
The thought sent a chill down Sophia's spine, but at the same time, a surge of molten anger and defiance roared within her. She could no longer hold it in—the little volcano in her heart erupted.
She stood abruptly, grabbing a glass of hot water from the table and throwing it directly at Capone's face.
"What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?" Capone jerked his head back, stunned. The hot water splashed onto his face, and the sharp heat made him flinch. His reflexes kicked in, and he swatted the glass out of her hand.
The glass landed with a dull thud on the carpeted floor, thankfully unbroken. But Sophia's fear, patience, and attempts to appease him were gone. She was shaking with anger, her voice trembling as she finally let it all out.
"Capone, hit me if you want, yell at me if you must, but don't you dare drag me all the way here just to watch you get jealous over Penny! I don't know what she's done to you, but I've never betrayed you! Why do you always compare me to her? Why do you keep using her to punish me?"
Sophia rarely raised her voice, and now it was so loud that even she was startled by it. Tears began streaming down her face as the memories of Capone's intimacy with Penny in front of her, and the humiliation Penny had inflicted on her at ROYAL, came flooding back. And now, here he was, using this woman to lecture her again. It felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
Capone shot to his feet, grabbing her wrist with a force that made her wince. His grip was iron, as if he intended to crush her bones. "What the hell are you talking about? When did I ever get jealous over her? When have I ever used her to punish you? Sit down and shut up! You're going to watch this play out whether you like it or not, and if you try anything else, I'll tie you to the damn chair!"
Capone was absolutely furious. This damn woman didn't even understand the situation, yet she splashed him with a cup of hot water. The new skin that had grown over the scars on his scalp and neck was still sensitive. The hot water burned, making it feel like a fiery pain, and it definitely left a big red patch.
He gritted his teeth, struggling to hold back the urge to rush at her and strangle her. He shoved her into the sofa and angrily sat next to her, glaring at the screen.
Sophia's eardrums were ringing from his shouting, and her wrist hurt. Afraid that he might really tie her up in his fury, she sat on the sofa, pouting in frustration.
While they were arguing, the game on the screen had already ended a round. KK, while waiting for the next round of cards, looked at the man and woman across from him and said, "Bertman, this is the last round! Your chips aren't enough to cover your losses. What are you going to do?"
The man called Bertman was sweating profusely, his legs trembling under the table. He glanced at Penny beside him and then looked at KK's expression, starting to understand. He said, "I'll… I'll bet her!"
Penny was someone he knew from ROYAL. She had been working in the nightlife industry for years and had some charm and management experience. He happened to own a nightclub in ST and wanted her to come work for him, mainly because he had his eyes on her. Capone's influence was well known, and Bertman dared not poach anyone from him. At first, Penny was unwilling to leave, but when she heard that things weren't going well for her, she came to him with a seductive plea for help. Bertman made a bold decision to keep her, thinking that Capone, who mainly operated in the harbor, wouldn't come to ST and cause trouble over a woman.
However, Capone didn't come looking for her. Instead, the mysterious KK had been eyeing her, subtly suggesting that he could use a woman as collateral in the bet.
Women and work partners could always be replaced, but life only had one, and Bertman dared not offend this cold-faced, ruthless gambling god.
Penny panicked when she heard this. "Mr. Wu, you… how could you bet me?"
"Stop talking nonsense! I haven't lost yet!" Bertman snapped impatiently at her. Even if he did lose, being in the gambling god's favor would mean living the high life. What was wrong with that? He was lucky to be in such a position!
Penny, of course, wasn't as optimistic as he was. KK's gaze was as sharp as ice knives, not containing a shred of the typical attraction a man might have for a woman.
For people like them, having a woman wasn't necessarily about keeping her for themselves. This mysterious man, with his luxurious gambling ship on the high seas, obviously had a great deal of power. Who knew if he would sell a woman to the human trafficking market or somewhere even worse?
From the moment she entered the room, Penny felt something was off. Her spine prickled as if every movement was being watched, and she felt an overwhelming sense of unease. Her heart raced, and all she wanted was to escape.
They were playing blackjack. KK had two cards in front of him, one face-up, one face-down. Bertman, trembling, began to request another card. The dealer handed him another card under the table.