'Was it just her imagination?' Lianne thought she heard a hint of teasing in his words.
But that wasn't important.
What was important was that Seth Sinclair knew her hand like the back of his own, while she couldn't read his at all.
Lianne was still very young the first time she met Seth Sinclair.
Her father, Cameron Lianne, didn't feel comfortable leaving his young daughter home alone, so with his employer's permission, he would sometimes bring her along when he was driving.
The Sinclair brothers were close, so Seth Sinclair would occasionally ride in the same car as Ethan Sinclair.
That day, right after the Lunar New Year, Lianne was sitting with her little head bowed, intently counting her red envelopes.
Seth Sinclair pulled out a stack of cash and told her that if she could beat him at cards, the money was all hers.
Lianne was a little money-grubber, and her eyes lit up at the sight of cash. Hearing Seth Sinclair say it could all be hers, she nodded and agreed.
As it turned out, she didn't win a single hand.
And his playstyle was sadistically playful—he'd let you get close to winning, only to make you lose in a spectacular crash.
It was pure psychological torture.
Lianne's first impression of Seth Sinclair was that he was a rich and dangerous villain.
Losing every single time, she got so angry she wanted to hit him, but she knew she couldn't win that fight either. In the end, stubborn tears just welled up in her eyes, making her look as pitiful as if she'd lost a hundred million.
There were many advantages to being young. For instance, no one would laugh at you for crying or call you weak.
And you could even get more red envelopes.
...Now, she was all grown up.
Quinn Preston glanced at the card table. The situation was clear.
Drawing cards was about luck; playing them was about skill.
It seemed this little junior of theirs had neither. She didn't even have the home-field advantage.
Quinn Preston looked at Lianne, but she didn't seem anxious at all. She remained perfectly calm.
Evan Caldwell saw it too and leaned back against the sofa with a casual air. "Master Seth, don't scare Little Lia. If you frighten her too much, it won't be easy explaining it to Sinclair."
As if he'd just heard a joke, Seth Sinclair's lips curled into a scornful smile. "Is she made of bubbles? That she'd break so easily?"
He extended his arm, and with a light flick of his long fingers, two cards were flipped over, laid bare for all to see.
Lianne's fingers, which had been resting on the table, unconsciously curled to tap lightly against the side of her glass. Seeing Seth Sinclair's sharp, arrogant move, her eyes shot up to look at him.
The collar of the man's expensive black shirt was slightly open, giving him a lazy, languid air. A faint smile swam in his eyes, softening the sharp, intimidating lines of his features and adding a touch of roguish charm.
Quinn Preston asked Lianne, "Want to show your cards?"
"Mhm."
As long as no money was on the line, Lianne was completely Zen about it, utterly unconcerned with winning or losing. She flipped over her own two cards as well.
Evan Caldwell saw the outcome, immediately reached out to shuffle their cards together, and declared, "The result doesn't matter! It's the taking part that counts!"
Compared to Evan Caldwell's blatant cheerfulness, Quinn Preston's expression could only be described as neutral.
Seth Sinclair slowly lifted his eyelids, his gaze landing lazily on Lianne's face. She seemed lost in thought.
Worried that Lianne might be upset about losing, Evan Caldwell tried to tell a joke. "Little Lia, what's a snake's favorite subject in school?"
Lianne snapped out of her thoughts and played along. "Why?"
Evan Caldwell: "Hisss-tory!"
Hearing this, Lianne broke into a radiant smile, her eyes curving into bright crescents.
At the sight, Evan Caldwell raised his eyebrows smugly, like a big dog wagging its tail.
Seth Sinclair and Quinn Preston knew better.
'The little junior wasn't laughing at the joke at all; she was laughing at Evan.'
Just then, Sophie Sheridan came over with a microphone to drag Lianne off to sing. Lianne said a quick goodbye to them and left.
Evan Caldwell continued, "Little Lia is still young, and she doesn't play often. Playing like that is already pretty good."
The phone resting on the table rang.
Seth Sinclair glanced at it, picked up the phone, and as he stood, he smacked the back of Evan Caldwell's head with a roguish grin. "You blind fool. Go get your eyes checked when you have a chance."
Then, he sauntered over to the quiet balcony to take the call.
"Hey!" Evan Caldwell scratched his cheek, completely baffled. "What did he mean by that?"
Quinn Preston mulled it over for a moment, then precisely plucked an ace of hearts from the pile of cards, twirling it between his fingers.
'Is she really rusty at cards, or was she losing on purpose?'
'If she was throwing the game, then her technique was flawless.'
'Completely undetectable.'
'When playing with a moody rich kid, you definitely can't win. But if he catches you throwing the game, that's even worse than winning.'
'Throwing a game without being obvious about it, leaving no room for criticism.'
'Even someone as sharp as Evan didn't notice. It was simply impeccable...'
Quinn Preston raised his gaze and looked in Lianne's direction.
Lianne wasn't singing. She was sitting elegantly on a high stool, acting as the designated PD to help Sophie Sheridan with the sound system.
"What do you want to sing?"
"A fried egg fell in love with a sunny-side-up egg. It took a guitar, went under the sunny-side-up egg's window, and sang: 'This is a *fried-egg* little love song~'" Sophie Sheridan said vividly, hogging the mic.
A smile touched Lianne's lips, and she queued up "A Little Love Song" for her.
As the relaxing, gentle music began to play, her foot on the floor tapped lightly to the beat. Her gaze unintentionally swept across the balcony, and she froze for a second.
The man was leaning against the railing, his tall, slender figure silhouetted by the cool, dark play of light and shadow. He held a phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other, his expression cold as he spoke to someone unknown.
A wisp of pale white smoke curled up from his fingertips, gradually melting into the night.
His sharply defined face was hidden behind the thick darkness and smoke, making him seem unreal.
Frame by frame, it was like a meticulously crafted scene from a movie.
Perhaps sensing something, Seth Sinclair glanced in her direction.
His cool gaze drifted lightly past... 'He probably didn't notice me.'
Seth Sinclair nonchalantly raised his hand to take a drag from his cigarette. The watch on his wrist caught the light, and its flash made Lianne flinch.
For a while after, a bright little spot danced in her vision.
*
Quinn Preston sat on the sofa, studying a pack of cigarettes in his hand.
The cigarettes were a rare, old-fashioned, finely ground type... Catching a glimpse of a tall, straight figure in his peripheral vision, Quinn Preston turned to look at the newcomer.
Seth Sinclair had the sleeves of his dark shirt slightly rolled up, revealing taut, powerful forearms that held an immeasurable explosive strength.
He propped his long legs up, resting his feet on the coffee table, and leaned back against the sofa, looking completely relaxed.
"Miles Morgan is asking around about why the second young master left the military district for a piece of land. What's the real story there?" Quinn Preston put down the cigarette pack and asked, "What's the deal? Are you really set on taking that L25 plot?"
Seth Sinclair shot him a sidelong glance, raising his left brow. "Tell Miles Morgan that L25 is a prime piece of feng shui real estate, surrounded by mountains and water. I'm planning to use it to bury him, so his descendants can sit back and reap the benefits."
Quinn Preston just smiled at him.
Setting aside the matter of leaving the military district early, a plot as large as L25, involving numerous high-tech parks and industrial bases, not to mention a military-industrial component, was not something he would have breathed a word about if he wasn't confident.
Evan Caldwell returned after seeing Lianne and Sophie Sheridan off. He flopped onto the dark brown sofa, grabbed a liquor bottle, poured himself a glass, and downed it in one go before pouring a second.
Quinn Preston watched him down three glasses in a row. "Drowning your sorrows? Did you get your heart broken?"