With old grudges and new ones combined, Felicia wouldn't let any of them go. No one understood Shawn better than she did. After squandering his fifty million dollars, he would undoubtedly turn his attention back to her, using threats and temptations to bleed her dry. And whom else would he target if he found no success with her? His own sister, of course.
Felicia's lips curled into a slight smile. Kayla had repeatedly harmed her, and now, retribution was hers.
Having received the fifty million dollars, Shawn indulged in a life of daily luxury. Once burdened by debt and constantly pursued, he had previously been looked down upon, unable to attract the women he desired or afford the things he wanted. Now, a wave of his hand summoned a flock of beautiful women. Those who once disdained him now fawned over him, calling him "Shawn."
Surrounded by flattery, Shawn quickly grew arrogant, genuinely believing he had achieved exalted status. So, when Lance repeatedly approached him, attempting friendship, Shawn felt immensely proud. "Cheers! This drink's on me!" Lance lifted his glass in the nightclub and downed it in one gulp.
Shawn, already drunk, playfully patted Lance's face while sneering, "Oh, it's Lance again! Remember when I owed you money? Didn't you treat me like nothing? Forgotten about that?" He pulled out a wad of cash, casually stuffing it into a nearby hostess's dress, and declared boastfully, "Now, I've got plenty of money!"
The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers, chanting his name. Shawn laughed heartily, banging on the table and shouting, "Tonight's on me! Drink up, everyone!" The cheers intensified.
Ignoring earlier insults, Lance sat beside Shawn, whispering, "Shawn, that fifty million dollars will eventually run out. How about I introduce you to a lucrative opportunity? Guaranteed money." He had mentioned this several times, but after Shawn's repeated rebuffs, he finally had his attention. "Let's hear it." The bait was set.
Lance grinned, explaining his scheme—a gambling setup Shawn particularly enjoyed. Shawn's eyes brightened. "Are you serious? Are the odds really that good?"
"Why not give it a shot?"
"Lance, you wouldn't be trying to con me, would you?"
"Who would scam you out of a measly sum? If you want to join, great; if not, too bad!" Lance feigned indifference, pretending to leave.
Shawn quickly grabbed his hand, grinning, "We're best friends, right? I'll give it a try, but don't blame me if I turn on you if I lose!"
"That's all down to your luck. Start with smaller bets. If it doesn't work out, just pull out," Lance said. He knew, however, that someone like Shawn wouldn't easily walk away from a gambling table. A leopard never changes its spots.
Even with fifty million dollars, Shawn hadn't shed his gambling habits and continued to bet recklessly. Now, with Lance introducing him to new venues and gambling methods, he was eager to dive in.
After one round, Shawn's bets multiplied. Just as Lance claimed, he won big! "Let's go again! My last bet was too small!" Time and time again, his wins piled up. Shawn was having the time of his life.