The door had barely closed behind Ruel and Isadora when the silence in the room changed.
Valen stood perfectly still.
His gaze moved slowly across the men surrounding the table.
Guns were pointed in his direction from almost every corner of the room.
Paul Webster’s anger had finally replaced his amusement.
“You really thought you could walk in here, humiliate me at my own table, and simply walk away?” Valen adjusted the cuff of his shirt.
“I didn’t humiliate you, Webster.” His eyes settled on him.
“You lost.” Paul’s expression twisted.
“Kill him.” The first shot exploded through the room.
Valen moved before the sound had even finished echoing.
He kicked the baccarat table forward, sending it crashing into the men closest to him.
Bullets tore through the polished wood as he dropped behind it.
Ruel had already taken cover near the entrance.
“Boss!” “I’m fine.” Another burst of gunfire ripped across the room.
Glass shattered.
A chandelier swung violently overhead as bullets struck the walls, sending fragments of crystal raining onto the carpet.
Valen rose from behind the table.
His gun was already in his hand.
One shot.
A man near the window dropped his weapon.
Another shot.
The second gunman stumbled backward.
The room descended into chaos.
Men shouted over one another as they fired blindly, while Valen moved through the smoke with frightening precision.
He never wasted a bullet.
Every movement was deliberate, controlled, almost effortless.
Paul ducked behind a sofa.
“You son of a—” Valen fired.
The bullet struck the armrest inches from Paul’s head.
Paul froze.
Valen slowly approached him.
“You should have thought about this before pulling a gun on me.” Paul fired back.
Valen stepped aside.
The bullet missed.
In the same motion, Valen grabbed Paul’s wrist, twisted the weapon from his hand, and slammed him against the table.
Paul gasped.
Valen pressed the barrel of his gun beneath his chin.
Around them, the remaining men had stopped firing.
Some were down.
Others stood frozen, weapons lowered as they realized the balance of power had shifted completely.
Valen’s breathing hadn’t even changed.
“You wanted to test me,” he said quietly.
Paul stared at him, his confidence gone.
“I…” “You lost the game.” Valen’s finger rested against the trigger.
“And then you made the mistake of turning it into a war.” For the first time that night, Paul looked afraid.
Ruel stepped closer, his gun still raised.
“Boss, what do you want me to do with the others?” Valen didn’t take his eyes off Paul.
“Take their weapons.” Ruel signaled the guards.
Within seconds, every surviving man in the room was disarmed.
Valen finally lowered his gun.
“Get this room cleaned.” Paul looked at him in disbelief.
“You’re just going to leave?” Valen gave him a cold smile.
“No.” He stepped closer.
“We’re going to finish our conversation.” Outside the private salon, the distant sound of music from the casino continued as though nothing had happened.
But inside the room, everyone understood one thing.
Paul Webster had just made the worst mistake of his night.
Valen lowered his gun and tossed it onto the table.
The room was a mess.
Broken glass covered the floor, several chairs had been overturned, and the sharp smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air.
Yet Valen looked completely untouched by the chaos.
He pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Now,” he said calmly, “let’s talk business.” Paul stared at him, still breathing heavily.
“You’re unbelievable.” “I’ve heard that before.” Valen leaned back, his gaze cold.
“You made a deal with me before the game.
If I won, you would supply the merchandise I asked for.” Paul said nothing.
“You lost the game,” Valen continued.
“So you honor your word.” Paul clenched his jaw.
The men around him remained silent.
Nobody seemed willing to argue with Valen after what had just happened.
“You want the shipment?” Paul finally asked.
“I want the entire shipment.” Paul gave a bitter laugh.
“You know exactly what you’re asking for.” “Yes.” “And you still want it?” Valen’s expression didn’t change.
“That’s why I’m here.” Paul studied him for a moment.
“You’re asking for weapons that aren’t easy to move.
The shipment is already in transit.
If anything goes wrong, it’ll attract attention.” Valen leaned forward.
“Then make sure nothing goes wrong.” Paul’s eyes narrowed.
“You really don’t trust anyone, do you?” “Trust is expensive.” Valen paused.
“And I don’t like wasting money.” Ruel almost smiled from where he stood nearby.
Paul sighed and finally reached for his phone.
“I’ll make the call.” Valen nodded once.
“Good.” Paul gave his men instructions, arranging for the shipment to be redirected to one of Valen’s trusted locations.
The deal was finally taking shape.
But just before the call ended, Paul looked back at Valen.
“There is one problem.” Valen’s eyes lifted.
“What?” “The people moving the shipment aren’t mine.” A faint silence settled over the room.
Paul continued, “They’re independent.
They agreed to transport it because they were paid well.
If they realize the buyer has changed, they might decide to keep it.” Valen’s expression hardened slightly.
“Then they’ll learn who they’re dealing with.” Paul gave him a humorless smile.
“I thought you’d say that.” Valen stood.
“Send me the location.” Paul hesitated.
“You’re going yourself?” Valen picked up his gun from the table.
“If someone is foolish enough to steal from me, I’d rather introduce myself personally.” Ruel glanced at him.
“And Miss Matthew?” For the first time, Valen’s expression changed.
“Take a suite in the hotel for her.” Ruel nodded.
“And you?” “I have to take care of that shipment.” Valen glanced toward the door.
“I’ll be back before she wakes up.” Ruel understood immediately.
“What if she wakes up before you return?” Valen gave him a cold look.
“Then make sure she doesn’t.” Ruel stared at him.
“Boss…” A faint smirk crossed Valen’s face.
“You know what I mean.” Ruel sighed.
“Yes, boss.” Valen picked up his gun and walked toward the exit.
Behind him, Paul watched silently.
The deal had been made.
But Valen had a feeling the night was far from over.