The crowd imdiately fell silent for a mont, then erupted in incredulous gasps.
"Holy shit! Three balls in on the break?"
"This girl is sothing else!"
"Must be a fluke, right?"
The man in the floral shirt, who had seed so relaxed just now, suddenly turned serious, a heaviness entering his gaze.
Stella Grant seed oblivious to the chatter around her, as she walked to the next shot point and bent over again, aiming.
Her movents were smooth, without the slightest hint of hesitation.
"Thud!" "Thud!" "Thud!"...
The remaining colored balls seed programd, rolling one after another along precise paths into the pockets.
Seamless and fluid, it was perfect execution!
A flawless clearance in six shots! As the final golden nine dropped into the pocket.
The entire billiard area fell utterly silent, leaving only the music from the speakers drifting through the air.
Everyone stared in awe at the cool and collected beauty, as if seeing her for the first ti.
A few seconds later, a cacophony of cheers and screams erupted, almost enough to blow the roof off!
"Amazing—! A clean sweep with just one shot!"
"Damn! She’s a pro!"
The atmosphere ignited completely at that mont, a hundred tis more intense than before!
On the second floor, in the spacious VIP box.
A few n in suits stood by the massive floor-to-ceiling window, exuding an aura of wealth and status.
The leading man stood tall and imposing, radiating an unapproachable intensity.
He held a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid gently swaying, reflecting his deep, inscrutable eyes.
His gaze pierced through the bustling crowd, landing precisely on the figure playing pool downstairs.
Watching her calm, focused profile, her swift and accurate movents, and the mont she electrified the entire venue.
Aiden Fordham’s eyes were complex, with a hint of exploration and...astonishnt that even he hadn’t noticed.
So, this woman had this side to her too.
Bold, confident, and dazzling.
So different from the Stella Grant he rembered, who was always demure, quiet, and reserved.
Was it because he had never noticed before, or had she been hiding it all along?
Downstairs, the match continued.
The man in the floral shirt already had beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
He knew he had t a formidable opponent.
This ti, it was his turn to break first.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, aiming carefully, striving for precision, not daring to be careless.
"Bang!"
The break was good, sinking one ball.
He played steadily, ticulously managing the precision of each shot, striving to avoid any errors.
One by one, the balls were driven into the pockets.
It was a clean sweep in one go, after all.
Although admirable, it paled in comparison to Stella Grant’s break that sunk three balls, a clear difference.
Vivi Sterling crossed her arms, smiling like a cat that got the cream.
"Handso, you lost, right? Ti to fulfill the promise?"
She even made a ’please’ gesture, pointing to the small makeshift stage beside them.
Another uproar ensued around them.
"Get on stage! Get on stage!"
"Strip! Strip! Strip!"
The floral shirt man turned shades of green and white, clearly not expecting to lose, much less for the other side to be so relentless.
Strip tease in front of everyone? That was a social death bell!
He was unwilling, clenching his teeth.
"Wait a minute! I was careless just now! Let’s have another ga!"
He pointed at Stella Grant, shouting, "If I lose again in this round, I’ll cover everyone’s bill here tonight!"
The place went wild at this statent!
"Damn! Big spender!"
"Another ga! Another ga!"
"Beauty! Say yes! Get us so perks!"
Everyone cheered, eagerly wanting to step in for Stella Grant.
Vivi Sterling glanced at Stella Grant, inquiring with her eyes.
Stella Grant didn’t mind, nodding slightly.
Vivi Sterling imdiately settled the matter: "Alright! We’ll give you another chance! But this ti, no backing out if you lose!"
Stella Grant raised her hand, gesturing, "Ladies first."
This ti, the floral shirt man didn’t fake politeness.
He walked to the pool table, his expression more serious and focused than ever.
"Bang!"
Break shot!
Both power and angle were expertly handled.
Three balls in!
The crowd exclaid, appearing to show this guy was displaying true skill now.
Then he picked up his cue again!
Holding his breath, he calculated precisely and struck!
Another clean sweep, just about perfect.
This ti, he was performing at the sa level as the woman’s first attempt; the scene beca tense.
Everyone thought it was tough for this beauty; to win, she’d have to sink four balls on her first break.
This was practically impossible.
The man’s gaze fell on Stella Grant, carrying a hint of pride, also a challenge.
It was Stella Grant’s turn to break; at this mont, all eyes were on her.
She calmly walked to the cue rack and swapped for a heavier cue.
She approached the pool table, picked up the cue ball, lightly stroking the smooth surface with her fingers, her gaze calm and unwavering, as if it wasn’t a high-stakes ga but just a routine practice.
She didn’t position the balls imdiately but circled half of the table, seemingly searching for the best angle.
For soone with a genius mind in dicine, math angles were a child’s play. After a few looks, the route of the nine balls was simulated in her mind.
Her composed deanor contrasted sharply with the noisy surroundings.
Finally, she stopped and placed the cue ball in the break area.
She bent slightly, her body’s curves graceful and focused.
The hand holding the cue was steady and strong; her other hand ford a classic bridge on the green felt surface.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, aiming.
At that mont, it seed the whole world went silent, leaving just her and the ball before her.
"Whizz—Bang!"
The cue shot out powerfully, yet with perfect control!
The cue ball shot like an arrow, precisely striking the top of the diamond rack!
The next mont, the unbelievable unfolded!
The colorful balls exploded like magic!
They didn’t scatter wildly as before but drew strange and precise arcs.
One, two, three... as many as nine colored balls, as if magnetically attracted, rolled consecutively into different pockets!
"Thud!" "Thud!" "Thud!"
The dense and clear sound of balls dropping echoed in everyone’s hearts.
One shot!
Nine balls docked!
The legendary "golden break"!
The entire club froze in eerie silence, even the music stopped abruptly.
You could hear a pin drop on the scene.
Everyone was wide-eyed, agape, as if witnessing a miracle.
Just now, those cheering for the man’s two-shot clearance seed collectively paused in place.
Three seconds later.
"What the hell!!!"
"Did I see that right? One shot! All nine went in?"
"Oh my god! What kind of divine skill is this?"
"The nine-ball queen! She’s definitely the nine-ball queen! GOAT!"
"Ah, fantastic, is it an illusion of mine?"
"I’m dumbstruck; honestly, I’m about to explode right here!"
Screams, gasps, and incredulous shouts erupted like a tsunami, nearly blowing the club’s roof off!
The atmosphere was a hundred tis more intense than earlier!
At this mont, in the second-floor VIP box.
The piercing eyes hidden in the shadows were also clearly mirrored by the earth-shattering scene downstairs.
Surprise flashed across.
He watched the woman who had just created a miracle, observing her calm profile as she put down the cue, the corners of his mouth curled into an almost imperceptible smile.
"What the hell, that woman is really... sister-in-law?" Abraham Grant couldn’t help but exclaim.
If it weren’t for seeing Vivi Sterling, he wouldn’t have believed his eyes.
Aiden Fordham put down his wine glass, the light clink of the cup against the table resonating faintly. Then, he strode decisively towards the stairs, heading downstairs.
Abraham Grant quickly followed behind him.
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