The numbers on the screen ticked like a grim countdown. When the final balance was settled, it read 1.5 billion dollars. It was as if the air had been sucked clean out of the entire casino. Irena’s face was drained of all color. She shrieked hysterically, “This is impossible! Where in the world did you get that kind of money? That has got to be a fake card!” Jasper held down his trembling hands, an almost indistinguishable trace of fear laced in his voice. “Isabel, there’s still time to admit your mistakes…” “Get on your knees!” Leonard demanded. “Bow down to Reena and apologize! We can pretend that none of this happened.” But all Isabel did was smile. It was the kind of smile that surfaced when someone had been pushed too far, when survival meant having to bare fangs. “Verify the card,” she uttered calmly. Her curt request hit the room like a hammer. Several moments later, the manager announced, “The black card is authentic. The card balance is confirmed… at 1.5 billion dollars.” In the sea of pin-drop silence, someone spoke in a quivering voice. “Could she be… the sister of Rosalind Stanford?” “Bullshit!” snapped Irena, her expression contorting with rage. “Rosalind Stanford is long dead! My father said so himself!” Leonard added, “I did meet Rosalind when I was a kid, but she died years ago!” Jasper nodded along. “Yeah! From what I remember, Rosalind isn’t even Isabel’s real sister. Just a cousin. She fell ill and passed away a while back.” Well played, Gregory Jefferson. After I left for abroad a few years ago, you actually had the gall to tell the world I was dead! Growing up, I was raised at my grandfather’s estate and groomed to be the heir of the Stanford family. Few people knew the full truth. Most assumed Isabel and I were cousins. However, the fact was that my grandfather only had one daughter—our mother. Logically speaking, Isabel wouldn’t have any cousins. If not for Gregory sweet-talking my mother into letting Isabel keep his last name, she would have borne the Stanford name, too! Among the crowd, someone timidly whispered, “Rosalind Stanford is not dead. She’s infamous abroad, feared across both legal and underground circles. Even the reaper himself would shudder at the sight of her.” Irena scoffed. “She’s just another bastard born from that whore. At the end of the day, I’ve still got them under my thumb. So what if your sister is powerful? We’re in international waters. What is she going to do? Drop out of the damn sky?” “My sister is very much alive and well!” Isabel jumped to her feet and delivered a fierce slap across Irena’s face. “How dare you!” Jasper surged forward and shoved Isabel hard, sending her delicate frame stumbling backward. Swiftly, Leonard moved to shield Irena, glaring daggers at Isabel. “If you dare touch Reena again, I will make sure you are wiped from existence.” Before Isabel could hit the ground, I safely caught her in my arms. “Well, well, well.” I slowly lifted my gaze, my voice soft yet laced with an unmistakable menace. “Who’s been announcing my death?” The air in the casino seemed to drop by 20 degrees instantly. Irena’s lips quivered uncontrollably. “Y-You are…” Calm and collected, I removed my sunglasses. My gaze swept over the three figures before me, whose faces were ashen as they stood frozen. “I heard someone threatening to wipe my sister from existence. Who might that have been?”