Back inside his private VIP surveillance lounge—where a wall of screens flickered with live feeds of every table in the casino—Charles slumped into the leather seat, still basking in the thrill of his win. His fingers drummed on the armrest when a buzz from his phone broke the silence.
Unknown Number: I see you're still at the top of your game… just like your father. – Don Sylvester.
Charles froze. His playful smirk faded as his eyes scanned the message again. Don Sylvester.
He hadn't heard from the former casino boss since the day he won the empire from him. And yet, here he was, casually comparing Charles to a man he rarely spoke of—his father.
"How does Don know my father?" Charles muttered, his brows narrowing.
Sure, back then, Don would've done a background check before handing over the casino. But this… this felt deeper. As if Don had known his father not just by name—but in truth.
His chest tightened.
That guy I just played with… he thought suddenly.
