Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 310

Chapter 310: Chapter 310 More Meaningful
Hours later, Ross and his stunning entourage were still at it, playing a few more rounds in the casino.

Luck finally tilted slightly in his favor, and he managed to win back $200 million.

However, he was still $300 million short of recovering all his losses.

“I guess it’s time to call it a night,” Ross said, standing up and stretching casually.

He glanced around, noticing that the girls were no longer focused on the games.

Instead, their eyes were fixed on him, brimming with a hunger he recognized all too well.

Their gazes weren’t subtle. They practically radiated desire, as if ready to devour him the moment they had him alone.

Ross couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He had been away from them for two nights, and their impatience was understandable.

After all, they were used to his nightly attentions, and the “break” had only intensified their cravings.

Not that Ross could blame them. With the kind of chemistry they shared, it was hard to keep their hands off each other.

Their nights together were filled with unrelenting passion, interrupted only by the occasional bathroom break or when nature’s monthly visit forced a pause.

“Yes, let’s!” one of the girls chirped eagerly, snapping him from his thoughts.

The others quickly followed suit, gathering their bags and standing up with barely contained excitement.

But their energy wavered as they noticed Ross suddenly stop in his tracks, his attention fixed on something—or someone—ahead of them.

The girls exchanged puzzled looks as they followed his gaze.

Standing there, just as expectantly as before, was the same sharply dressed man who had earlier invited Ross to a high-stakes poker game.

His polished demeanor hadn’t wavered, though his anticipation now bordered on desperation.

The way he stood, almost like a loyal dog eager to please its master, made it clear that he was banking on Ross’s participation to secure a hefty bonus—or perhaps something more.

“What the hell. Why not?” Ross said, a wide grin spreading across his face.

He had a knack for sensing when something interesting was about to happen, and the poker table at the other end of this invitation practically promised excitement.

Turning to his companions, he added with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Let’s make one more stop before heading back, ladies. I’ve got a poker game to play. Hehehe.”

Without waiting for a reply, Ross strode toward the handsome man, his confidence radiating with every step.

The man straightened immediately, his expression lighting up with relief and excitement as he gestured toward the private poker area.

The girls sighed collectively, though their exasperation was tinged with amusement.

“Of course,” one muttered under her breath, but they followed him without hesitation.

They were used to Ross’s whims and knew that wherever he went, the night was bound to get even more interesting.

They were led to a private room in the casino, a space lavishly furnished with polished wood, velvet chairs, and golden accents.

Waiting for them inside were several men, each exuding an air of quiet authority and a group of goons with big muscles and intimidating presence.

At the center of it all sat the enigmatic Mr. Adams, who finally revealed himself in the flesh.

The moment Ross and his women entered, the atmosphere shifted.

The room, spacious moments ago, suddenly felt stifling as if the sheer presence of Ross’s entourage had compressed the air.

His women—gorgeous, confident, and exuding a natural allure—instantly captured every man’s attention.

Eyes roamed unabashedly over their curvaceous figures, and not a few men found themselves visibly affected.

The tension in the room thickened as some even began sniffing the air like dogs in heat, overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of the women’s natural beauty.

Ross’s companions were undeniably the epitome of perfection, women so exquisite that their mere presence made the ordinary seem utterly mundane.

Standing to greet them, Mr. Adams extended his hand toward Ross.

“Ross Oakley. I’m glad to finally meet you. I’m Don Adams,” he said with a practiced smile.

Don Adams was a fit, middle-aged man with a neatly groomed mustache that complemented his distinguished appearance.

He radiated the confidence of a seasoned businessman, but the subtle tension in his shoulders and the well-armed security stationed around the room hinted at a man who valued his safety above all else.

Ross shook his hand firmly, his own expression unreadable.

The two exchanged polite yet calculated pleasantries, each sizing the other up.

Beneath the surface of their words lay an unspoken assessment—both men trying to gauge the character and motivations of the other.

When the introductions were complete, Gwen, one of Ross’s sharpest companions, leaned in close to whisper.

“I don’t like the look of this, Ross,” she murmured, her voice low and tinged with unease.

Her detective instincts were practically screaming at her to get out of here fast.

Ross gave her a reassuring smile, replying in a whisper, “No matter. Even if the heavens fall tonight, I’ll shoulder it all for you and the rest.”

“Hmph!” Gwen responded with a soft huff, her hand instinctively brushing against her hip—only to find it empty.

She felt vulnerable without the familiar weight of her handgun, a sensation she disliked intensely.

Ross stepped forward, casually addressing the room.

“So, I hear the game is poker. I’ll admit, I’ve only ever watched videos online and haven’t played a single hand myself. But that’s fine—learning is half the fun. Now, let’s cut to the chase. How much is the wager? I don’t mind losing a few more hundreds of millions tonight.”

He flashed a charming smile, his tone lighthearted. Ross was never one to judge a book by its cover, and he didn’t dismiss the possibility of making an ally.

But his open-minded approach was quickly dashed by Mr. Adams’s next words.

“Money, to men like us, means nothing, Mr. Oakley,” Mr. Adams said, leaning back with an air of casual arrogance.

His lips curled into a sly smile before he licked them suggestively, his eyes roaming over Ross’s women with barely concealed lust.

“I want to bet on something more meaningful.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Ross’s eyes narrowed slightly, the polite veneer on his face hardening.

His women exchanged tense glances, their earlier unease now sharpening into silent resolve.

Ross didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch, his piercing gaze locking onto Mr. Adams.

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm yet carried a weight that made the entire room pause.

“Interesting,” Ross said, his smirk returning but colder this time.

“Why don’t you elaborate on exactly what you mean by ‘more meaningful’? I’d hate to misunderstand.”