His unwanted wife, the world's coveted genius - Chapter 136

Chapter 136:

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“That’s a solid roll. You will definitely win this time!” someone nearby remarked, clearly impressed.

Belinda, however, didn’t even spare a glance at her dice.

With a calm, almost lazy motion, she lifted the dice.

All eyes instantly turned toward her dice, the anticipation palpable in the air.

“Oh my God!”

A collective gasp rippled through the booth.

Ryan’s expression shifted dramatically.

Belinda had rolled a six.

Damn it!

Belinda couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips.

She ran a hand through her shoulder-length burgundy curls, her grin bright and triumphant. “Seems like luck is really on my side today.”

Bethany and Johnson exchanged a quick glance, amusement dancing in their eyes.

From the very start, Bethany hadn’t been concerned when Belinda had kept losing.

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She knew better—Belinda had been playing the long game, losing on purpose to push Ryan into this high-stakes gamble.

Lucas watched the scene unfold, his gaze fixed on Belinda, unreadable and intense.

A flicker of uncertainty passed through him.

Was that six a stroke of luck, or was it something else? Was Belinda really good at this?

Ryan’s expression froze as soon as Belinda lifted her dice cup, and for a long moment, he remained speechless, eyes locked on the result.

Without a word, Belinda reached for the bottle of whiskey and placed it in front of Ryan with deliberate calm. “Mr. Adams, go ahead and drink it now.”

The booth fell into a heavy silence.

No one dared to speak, the tension palpable in the air.

Just the sight of the full bottle seemed to make everyone uneasy.

They all knew that it would not be easy to drink the whole bottle.

Finally, Verena’s voice broke the quiet, her tone laced with concern. “Mrs. Clark, it’s just a game. There’s no need to take it so seriously, right? Surely a whole bottle of whiskey is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Belinda chuckled softly at Verena’s words, her eyes never leaving Ryan. “Mr. Adams, are you afraid to drink, or is it just that you don’t want to?”

She paused for a moment, her smile turning sly as she leaned in slightly. “It’s fine. I’m a reasonable person. How about this—if you go downstairs, stand on the stage, and shout three times, ‘I am a coward,’ you won’t have to drink this bottle of whiskey.”

At her words, both Ryan’s and Verena’s faces darkened.

The others exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to react to such a bold challenge.

Belinda’s request was cruel in its simplicity.

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