Female Novel
Chapter 1374
In the dimly lit basement of an underground fight club, the buzz of hushed conversations and clinking
glasses was occasionally punctuated by the roll of dice and the shuffle of cards. Ian sat leaned back in
his chair, a concerned crease forming between his brows as he rubbed his temples. The man across
from him nodded solemnly before disappearing into the crowd, leaving Ian to ponder his next move.
With a deep breath, Ian pushed through the swinging doors to find Maja, who was still fretting over a
lost cell phone. Her eyes widened as she instinctively stepped back when he approached.
"Maja, how about we catch a movie tonight?" he suggested, trying to distract her from her unease.
She nodded, though clearly puzzled by his intentions. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and
guided her to the spacious living room. Maja sat perched on the edge of the couch, the vastness of the
room amplifying her discomfort.
"What do you feel like watching?" Ian asked.
Maja couldn't decide, her mind a blank. She almost said they should watch whatever he liked, but then
realized she didn't know his preferences. Had they ever watched a movie together before?
"I don't want to watch a movie," she murmured.
"What would you like to do, then?"
"I don't know."
Her honesty reflected her current state: lost, as if trapped in a room of chaos with no sense of self.
"Let's go downstairs and have some fun," Ian suggested, leading her back to her room to change.
Descending the staircase hand in hand, Maja saw a sea of faces, most masked, as they stepped onto
the bustling casino floor. She clung to Ian, only relaxing when they reached a long, crowded table.
Ian sat down, pulling Maja onto his lap, a pile of chips stacked before him. "Remember when you
cleaned up at that game in Greenfield?" he asked.
"Yeah," she replied, recalling the time before Ian knew she was his wife, when he was infamously
known as an easy mark.
But what happened next? Her memories were foggy, emotions from that time erased, as if she'd been
watching someone else's life.
Ian placed her hand over the chips and smiled indulgently. "Back then, you won big, sharp-tongued and
clever. Now, I'm giving you the reins. You're good at card counting, right? Help me win a hand."
Ian's hands held her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. Maja's cheeks flushed as she tried to
remember her winning strategy, but the knowledge had slipped away, along with the confidence on how
to bet.
Her fingers trembled slightly as panic set in, but Ian's grip tightened reassuringly. "Take your time, no
rush," he whispered.
The crowd around the table was drawn in by Maja's stunning appearance, but Ian's mask made them
hold their taunts. The mask was a symbol known to all in the fight club circles—it meant something.
And now, Barlow, who had never publicly shown affection for a woman, was openly cradling one in his
arms at the gaming table.
Maja's palms were sweaty as she lost the first round. The dealer announced the loss amounted to thirty
million. She stiffened, wanting to flee from the enormity of the wager.
Ian's embrace remained steadfast. "Keep playing," he urged.
"Ian, I've lost too much of your money."
"It doesn't matter to me."
"But I can't win."
The environment was overwhelming her. In response, Ian tilted his head and began to plant soft kisses
along her neck, causing her blush to deepen and her grip on the remaining chips to tighten.
Seeing her eyelashes flutter nervously, Ian let out a sympathetic sigh. "Okay, we'll stop."
He scooped her up, leaving the chips on the table, and whisked her away to the elevator. The moment
the doors closed, he kissed her thoroughly.
Back on the seventh floor, Maja felt a sense of relief. She clutched his hand, asking timidly, "Ian, could Inovelbin
perhaps see Dr. Herrington?"
The more her anxiety grew, the stronger her desire to see Phelps became.
Ian studied her face, noting the confusion in her eyes. After a moment, he smiled softly.
"Yeah, I'll take you to see him the day after tomorrow. But you have to promise to have fun with me for
these next two days, okay?"
Her anxiety vanished, replaced by a bright smile. "Okay."
Comforted by the thought of seeing Phelps, her fears subsided. She joined Ian for movies, reading
sessions, and sat beside him during meetings, fighting sleep but refusing to retire alone.
Ian was right—she had become a pet, her sharp edges dulled. Holding her close, he sighed and turned
to his associate.
"So, is that plan going to work or not?"
"Mr. Raymond, it's too risky," the man replied.
Ian only wanted to know one thing: "What are the odds of success?"
"No one can say for sure."
Ian stroked Maja's hair, sighing deeply. "Alright, I understand."