Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Art studied the cards and looked at her face as she made a two-million-dollar bet. “Are you betting on that river card? You have to be. You don’t have your hand yet. I know you don’t. You and your lucky red on the river.”
To see her cards and the river card, he’d have to put up another two million in chips. He certainly had it, but clearly, his warning system was telling him not to do it. Art gave her another grin and shook his head as he matched her bet.
A groan erupted from the spectators. Art didn’t look up, his gaze on the dealer’s hands as she burned the next card and turned up the eight of hearts. Art leapt out of his chair and paced away from the table. “No way. That’s your card, isn’t it? You were bluffing this entire time and the river gave it up to you.”
He sank back into his seat. Vienna bet two million. Art shook his head. “I’m not crazy, Vienna. That’s your card. You have a flush. Not just a flush. You have a straight flush. I’m not handing you another penny.”
He’d been a good sport and he’d lost a lot of money to her. She turned her cards face up and sent him her own little grin.
“I knew it. You do bluff.”
She didn’t answer. Let him decide when she was bluffing and when she wasn’t. Three hands later, Art was dealt two pocket jacks. She had two pocket tens. Vienna’s initial bet was half a million dollars. Art immediately raised it by another half a million. Vienna stayed in to see the flop. Two tens and a jack. That gave Art a full house with three jacks and Vienna four of a kind. Vienna bet two million. Art saw her two million and raised her two million. She met his raise.
The turn gave them an ace of hearts, which didn’t do anything for either hand. Vienna bet five million of her chips. Art looked the cards over carefully and then studied her face before he matched the bet and upped it. She upped it again. A hush had fallen over the room. Art coolly pushed the appropriate chips in to match hers.
The dealer turned over the seven of hearts. Vienna bet five million chips. Art studied the cards again and then went all in. There was no possible way for him to have four jacks. He couldn’t beat her with a straight flush, even if her “gift” wasn’t working. She had the stronger hand. She pushed her chips in to match his.
Art revealed his full house, three jacks and two tens. She revealed her four of kind, four tens. Vienna had won the championship at the Northern Lights Hotel and Casino. Art, ever the consummate professional, extended his hand to her immediately.
“Amazing, Vienna. I want to be here when you play Daniel Wallin. I’ve asked him, I hope you don’t mind. The game will be in a couple of days.”
She paused halfway through the act of rising. If she were being truthful with herself, part of the reason she had accepted the invitation to play in the live tournament at the Northern Lights was that she knew part of the prize was to play poker with Daniel Wallin—a man considered unbeatable. Every top celebrity gambler did anything they could for a chance at an invite to play with him.
“Wait. What? A couple of days? I have other commitments.” Her heart sank. She’d watched every single YouTube video Wallin was in, studying his every move. She was convinced he used a psychic talent of some kind. Not the same as hers, but something else. She had to know what it was. The compulsion was stronger than most things that took hold of her. Still, she’d given her word to her friends, and she didn’t go back on her word.
“The winner of the tournament always plays a game with Wallin. You have to play with him.” Art moved closer to her in order to be heard over the yelling of the crowd.
“Of course I want to, Art. Who wouldn’t? He’s considered the best there is.” Then she was pulled away from him and microphones were thrust at her as announcements were made. Photos were taken. She was escorted to a room where Daniel Wallin waited, surrounded by his security and a selected camera crew to televise the prize being given as well as the speeches and her interview with the owner.
The hubbub went on so long, Vienna became exhausted and terrified that she might collapse at any moment. No matter how many times she edged toward the door in an attempt to escape, there were more interviews and more photographs. It seemed to her as if the owner of the hotel continually delayed her escape, or that could have just been in her head because she was so desperate. Thankfully, it was Art who put a stop to the crazy interviews, declaring that she needed rest. Even as she edged toward the door, Art clearing the way for her, Wallin still interfered with her escape, stopping her by standing in front of her, his security force once more surrounding them.