Chapter 315: The Shark Tank (2)(Bonus Chapter)

Two hours later, the table had completely transformed.Chen had busted out spectacularly after going all-in three more times with increasingly questionable hands. He’d left laughing, slapping Liam on the shoulder and promising to "get revenge next time."

Angela had cashed out up thirty thousand, citing an early morning meeting. Mr. Rolex had also departed after losing steadily, his expression sour as vinegar.

But nature abhors a vacuum, and in Macau’s premier casino, empty seats at a hot table didn’t stay empty long.

The new players were a different breed entirely.

Seat one: A rail-thin Chinese man in his sixties named Zhang Wei, whose family apparently owned half the commercial real estate in Hong Kong.

He’d bought in for five million without blinking and played with the cold precision of a surgeon. Every bet was calculated. Every fold was emotionless.

Seat three: A Russian woman named Katarina who couldn’t have been older than thirty-five but carried herself like she’d seen empires rise and fall. Diamond earrings that could probably fund a small hospital. She’d bought in for eight million and played aggressively, constantly applying pressure.

Seat five: Liam, who had built his stack back up to approximately 2.8 million after the loss to Chen.

Seat six: A jovial Malaysian businessman named Tan, who seemed to treat ten-thousand-dollar bets like pocket change. Four million buy-in. He laughed constantly but his eyes were razor-sharp.

Seat eight: The newest addition—a stone-faced Korean man who’d introduced himself simply as "Mr. Park." He’d arrived twenty minutes ago, bought in for ten million dollars in a single transaction that made even the pit boss’s eyes widen, and hadn’t smiled once. His expression suggested he was here for blood.

The blinds had been raised twice already. The minimum bet was now ten thousand. The pots were regularly six figures.

This wasn’t poker anymore. This was warfare with cards and chips as weapons.

***

The hand that changed everything started innocuously enough.

The dealer shuffled and dealt. Liam glanced at his cards.

Ace ♣ — Ace ♦

Pocket aces. The best possible starting hand in Texas Hold’em.

Zhang Wei opened with a raise to thirty thousand. Standard move.

Katarina immediately three-bet to ninety thousand. Her expression was unreadable behind designer sunglasses she’d recently put on.

Tan folded with a cheerful shrug. "Too hot for me!"

Mr. Park stared at his cards for a long moment, then called the ninety thousand without a word.

Action to Liam.

He could just call here, try to trap. But with this many aggressive players, trapping was dangerous. Better to build the pot while he had the best hand.

"Raise. Three hundred thousand."

The number hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Zhang Wei folded immediately, his expression never changing.

Katarina removed her sunglasses, studying Liam with intense blue eyes. Her fingers drummed against the felt once, twice. Then she smiled with a predatory expression. "Call."

Mr. Park’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He counted out chips with mechanical precision. "Call."

The pot was now nine hundred thousand dollars, and they hadn’t even seen the flop yet.

Three players remained.

The dealer burned and revealed the flop:

King ♥ — Queen ♥ — 7 ♣

Dangerous board. Connected. Two hearts. Plenty of straight and flush possibilities. But Liam still had an overpair to everything.

Katarina acted first. She checked, which immediately made Liam suspicious. She’d been the aggressor pre-flop. Checking suggested either weakness or a trap.

Mr. Park checked as well.

Liam decided to bet for value and protection. "Four hundred thousand."

Katarina’s smile widened. "Raise. One million."

Mr. Park folded instantly, his first emotion of the evening flashing across his face, was relief at escaping.

The pot was now 2.3 million.

Liam studied Katarina carefully. She was representing a very strong hand. Either she’d flopped a set, hit two pair, or possibly had Ace-King and thought she was ahead.

Liam smiled to himself and called.

The turn came:

2 ♠

A brick. Complete nothing card. Didn’t complete any obvious draws.

Katarina didn’t hesitate, as she made her move. "All in."

She had approximately three million left.

The pit boss had materialized nearby, watching intently. Other players from neighboring tables had started gathering. Word of a massive pot brewing was spreading.

Liam took his time. This was a huge decision. If he was wrong, he will just simply have to reload. But if he was right...

He studied Katarina’s posture, her breathing, the way her fingers rested on the table and every micro-expression.

She was confident. But there was something else—a slight tension in her shoulders. The kind of tension that came from making a big semi-bluff, not from having the nuts.

Liam didn’t hesitate further and he called.

Katarina’s expression flickered—just for a second, something that might have been disappointment or respect.

The dealer revealed the river.

4 ♦

Another brick.

"Show," the dealer said.

Katarina turned over her cards with a theatrical flourish.

Ace ♥ — Jack ♥

Ace-high. She’d been on a flush draw that never came, with an overcard and a gutshot straight draw. A powerful semi-bluff, but ultimately just ace-high.

Liam revealed his pocket aces.

The table erupted.

"Pocket aces!" Tan shouted, laughing. "The whole time!"

Katarina stared for a moment, then burst out laughing herself. "You cold-blooded bastard. Well played."

She pulled out her phone and made a quick call, "Yes, another eight million. Table 7. Thank you."

Within minutes, fresh chips arrived. She stacked them with practiced efficiency, her smile never wavering. "Round two, Ethan."

The dealer pushed the massive pot toward Liam. Six million, three hundred thousand dollars.

Liam’s stack had more than doubled in a single hand.

***

The table got even more aggressive after that.

Mr. Park, perhaps stung by watching such a huge pot from the sidelines, began playing nearly every hand. Zhang Wei remained precise with his moves. Tan continued his jovial chaos, splashing chips around like he was at a party.

And new players kept rotating in.

A Singaporean tech mogul bought in for six million and proceeded to lose it all in forty-five minutes playing far too many hands.

A quiet Japanese businessman bought in for seven million and played exactly four hands in an hour, winning three of them and leaving up two million with a polite bow.

A loud American from Texas who introduced himself as "Big Jim" bought in for five million, announced he was going to "show these international folks how it’s done in America," and busted out in twenty minutes after running kings into Liam’s aces again.

An elderly Chinese woman in a traditional qipao arrived with two bodyguards, bought in for twelve million, and played with the ruthless efficiency of someone who’d been gambling before half the table was born. She stayed for two hours, grinding out a three-million-dollar profit before leaving with a satisfied nod.

Through it all, Liam played with focused aggression. He won huge pots with strong hands. He laid down marginal holdings when the price got too high. He bluffed occasionally—just enough to keep opponents guessing but not enough to get caught in disasters.

And Katarina matched him step for step. She reloaded twice more, each time returning to the fray with renewed determination. They clashed repeatedly—sometimes she won, sometimes he won, but the pots between them were always massive.

Five hours into the session, the dynamic had evolved into something almost theatrical.

Zhang Wei had bought in four times total and was now playing with approximately fifteen million, but he’d grown increasingly conservative.

Katarina had reloaded so many times the pit boss had stopped looking surprised. She was currently sitting on roughly twenty-two million in chips and showed no signs of slowing down.

Mr. Park had finally busted out completely after a brutal cooler against Tan, leaving with a curt nod.

Tan himself was somehow still alive with about eight million despite his loose play, though he’d admitted he was "running on pure luck and whiskey."

A new player had joined—a young Chinese heir named Liu who’d bought in for a staggering twenty million and played with the reckless confidence of someone who’d never faced real consequences.

And Liam was sitting on approximately forty-eight million.

His winnings had already attracted the house’s attention and they were now keeping a close eye on him.

Two surveillance officers whispered behind the pit boss, glancing repeatedly at Liam’s stack.

The pit boss was no longer hiding his concern. Several floor managers had gathered to watch. The casino was hemorrhaging money at this table, and it showed no signs of stopping.