When the dice settled and the dealer revealed the numbers—triple sixes—it was exactly as Felicia had guessed: high! She kept walking, her eyes scanning the tables. A spot opened at a nearby craps table, and she moved to join in. But as she turned, she accidentally bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry..." Felicia apologized, but her face stiffened when she saw Arnold, his expression as dark as a storm cloud.

Arnold frowned, his gaze sharp. He'd spotted her from afar and thought she looked familiar. Now, up close, there was no mistaking her.

"This isn't a place you should be," Arnold said sharply, his voice authoritative.

Felicia's mood soured. She wasn't in the mood for his lectures. "It's none of your business," she snapped, brushing past him.

Before she could move, Arnold grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "You're leaving—now."

His tone brooked no argument as he tried to pull her away. Felicia stumbled, struggling to maintain her balance. That was the last straw. Fury surged as she twisted, biting hard on his hand.

Arnold hissed in pain, jerking his hand back. Deep, crimson teeth marks marred his wrist, already beginning to swell. His expression darkened. "Felicia, don't push it!"

"I'm not the one out of line—it's you," she retorted, her eyes blazing. "What I do and where I go is none of your concern. Maybe you should mind your own business!"

The intensity in her gaze made it clear she wouldn't back down. For a moment, they locked eyes in a battle of wills. Arnold's frustration boiled over, and he let out a humorless laugh. "Fine. Do you want to gamble? Let's play. Let's see just how bold you really are."

Felicia wiped her mouth with a tissue, a flicker of disdain crossing her face, but she didn't hesitate. "Fine. I'll take you on. Name your stakes."

The tension was electric, drawing attention from onlookers. People whispered, recognizing the two, speculating about the unfolding drama. Soon, the table was filled with curious spectators, many young socialites eager to join.

"This looks fun. Count me in!" one chimed, tossing down his chips.

"Me too!" another added.

"Don't leave me out," a third called, squeezing in.

Sensing the heated energy and growing crowd, the dealer smiled nervously. "Alright, folks. What kind of game are we playing?"

Arnold's eyes stayed locked on Felicia. "Something simple. No excuses later about being outmatched."

Felicia let out a dry laugh. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The dealer set up the game, the familiar sound of shaking dice filling the air. Felicia exchanged her cash for chips—it wasn't much—but she didn't hesitate. When it was her turn, she pushed all her chips to the center of the table.

"High!"