Chapter 17: Playing With Fire

"What makes you feel you’re worthy of a gamble?"

"I’m not asking you to bet on what I am right now," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet storeroom with absolute conviction. "I’m asking you to invest in where I’m going. Give me a shot, and I guarantee you won’t regret it."

Edgar must be a powerhouse if he has this much power as an Alpha.

I don’t know why he’s simply running a casino in these back alleys but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I get his support. A support from an Alpha like him would definitely make my quest to regain my strength much easier.

And him hiding like this works better for me. Can’t be in the limelight yet if I want to take them by surprise and knock their teethes out.

Edgar let out a short, dry scoff, spinning the black chip over his knuckles. "That doesn’t justify why I should bet on a wolfless Omega with no proper future in this pack. In Grey Moon, someone like you doesn’t get a future—unless they physically tear it out of someone else’s hands."

"I’ll definitely do something about my future," I replied, stepping directly into his personal space. "Even if I have to tear it out of someone else’s hands, just as you said,"

I reached out and grabbed his wrist. It was thick, hard as iron, and radiating a subtle, terrifying heat. A single strike from this arm could break my neck before I could blink, but I had read him completely. He was a predator who thrived on high stakes, a wolf who craved entertainment—no wonder he ran a casino. Afterall, it was an empire built on risk.

"I’m going to change my fate," I said, locking my eyes straight onto his golden gaze.

Keeping my grip on his wrist, I brought my other hand up and plucked the black chip straight from between his long fingers, drawing it close to my chest.

"And when I do, you’ll see that I was never a worthless gamble."

With a flick of my thumb, I sent the black chip spinning high into the dim air, tracking its rotation effortlessly before catching it cleanly in my palm and slapping it onto the back of my hand.

"I’m not all talk, either. I’ll prove it."

Edgar didn’t flinch. He slowly leaned his head down, his dark hair brushing against my temple as his warm, heavy breath hit the shell of my ear.

"How?" he whispered, his voice a low, raspy purr that sent a shiver straight down my spine. "Little cat... you’re playing with fire."

Fire? I almost laughed. In my past life, I had danced through infernos, walked through bloody war zones, and slept with blades under my pillow. A little flame wasn’t going to burn me.

"Don’t believe me?" I whispered back, tilting my head just enough to meet his eyes from inches away. "Then why don’t you test me? Let’s play a game, Edgar."

"And what do I get in return for going along with your little game?" he asked, a dangerous, mocking tilt touching his lips.

"That’s your call," I said smoothly. "If I win, you invest in me like I asked. If you win... you can have whatever you want."

SLAM.

His palm hit the wall right beside my head with enough force to make the heavy wooden shelves rattle behind us. His massive frame surged forward, trapping me entirely within his shadow once again, his golden eyes burning down into mine with a terrifying, suffocating intensity.

"You forget yourself, little cat," Edgar whispered, his gaze dropping to my lips before rising back to pin my eyes. "Only those who actually have something to offer get to make deals. What could a penniless, wolfless girl like you possibly offer me?"

"My life."

The words left my lips without a single shred of hesitation. My eyes remained locked on his, my conviction absolute, unwavering, and stone-cold.

Edgar’s breath hitched, his golden gaze faltering for a split second.

As an assassin, you were trained to hold your own death in the palm of your hand from day one. You had to be ready to end a life—or surrender your own—if the mission demanded it. Right now, my mission was to tear down this pathetic narrative, reclaim my strength, and ensure I would never be anyone’s footstool ever again.

If I couldn’t even manage that, I might as well die trying. But I wasn’t going to die. And I certainly wasn’t going to fail. I would succeed, and I would live.

Edgar slowly raised a hand, the tips of his long fingers lightly caressing the curve of my cheek.

"You speak of giving away your life so lightly," he murmured, his voice dropping into an unreadable register. "Is it that you are simply that confident... or was this your goal from the very start?"

"What?" I frowned, completely baffled by the direction his thoughts were taking.

Before I could process his words, his hand clamped firmly around my waist. He spun my body in a swift, effortless circle, dropping me right back into the exact position we were in when I first fell into his arms—leaning back over his forearm, held entirely at his mercy.

I swallowed hard, staring up at him.

The playful, predatory gleam in his eyes had vanished. In its place was something fierce, defensive, and deeply cold.

"I do not appreciate young girls throwing themselves at me just to change their fate," he said, his tone laced with a sharp, unexpected boundary.

"What? You’ve got it completely wrong—"

He didn’t let me finish. He straightened up and abruptly released his grip, leaving me to catch my own balance on my feet.

"Nothing good will ever come from being associated with me anyway," Edgar said flatly. He reached out, turned the brass knob, and pulled the storeroom door wide open to let in the bright light from the hallway. "So, little cat... I suggest you find a different sponsor."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode down the hallway, his heavy coat sweeping behind him as he vanished into the shadows of the corridor.

I stood frozen in the middle of the storeroom, staring at the empty doorway in absolute, speechless shock.

That guy... did he just completely misunderstand the entire conversation simply because I put my life on the line?!

Throwing myself at him?!

Was he being delusional or was he brain dead from the start?

I stomped my foot against the hard floor in sheer frustration, my hands balling into tight, furious fists.

What in the world did he take me for?! I offered him absolute loyalty and my literal soul as collateral if I failed to win our game, and his brain immediately jumped to some shallow, desperate seduction scheme?!

I took a deep, sharp breath, forcing the violent spike of irritation back down into my chest.

Fine. He wanted to play the high-and-mighty protector who turned down desperate girls? Let him think whatever ridiculous nonsense he wanted. I still had his matte-black casino chip tucked safely inside my pocket.

I took it out, looking at the golden crest. Anything with a gold crest like this couldn’t be simple.

Thank you, delusional Edgar. Now, I don’t need to embarrass myself with a fifty dollar bill.

I grabbed an oversized hoodie and a shorts from the storeroom shelves, threw them over my frame, and tied my hair back, wearing a cap over it. This was for Jayden.

Edgar told me to find another sponsor? Well, too bad. I was going to make enough money tonight to make his casino go bankrupt. Let’s see if he doesn’t notice my worth once that happens.