The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 138 – A Bet

But now?

With Myra dominating the market and both products having similar effects, launching second would be a disaster. Damon Group had already taken the initiative. Any attempt to compete now would mean slashing prices or targeting the low-end market—neither of which were viable strategies for the long-term.

"You're oversimplifying the business world," Queenie muttered, rubbing her temples.

But John wasn't listening. He walked straight back to Carlos.

"How about a bet?" he said casually. "After BEAUTY is launched, I believe it will outperform Myra. Do you dare to bet on that?"

Carlos raised an eyebrow, amused by John's apparent madness. "What's the wager?"

"If BEAUTY wins, you hold a public press conference. Admit how you stole the formula and apologize to Queenie Group."

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Carlos chuckled. "Oh? And if you lose?"

"Name your price."

Carlos narrowed his eyes, then grinned with sleaze. "Then let Queenie spend one night with me."

He cast another lecherous glance at Queenie, practically drooling.

John's smile disappeared. His voice dropped several degrees colder. "I won't gamble my sister."

Carlos shrugged smugly. "Then there's no bet."

"What's the matter? Are you scared?" John prodded.

Carlos's eyes flicked with irritation. "What did you say?"

"I said you don't dare to bet because you're afraid of what will happen once BEAUTY hits the market. You know it'll impact Damon Group—hard."

Carlos stared at him for a moment, then let out a low laugh. "You're a fool—but since you insist on digging your own grave, fine. I'll play along."

He leaned in slightly, his tone mocking. "If BEAUTY fails, I want you to strip naked, run around Hanmi Group's headquarters, and livestream the entire thing."

"Deal," John answered without hesitation.

Later that night, after the private party, Queenie stormed ahead down the sidewalk, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. Her face was icy.

John jogged after her, trying to keep up. "Queenie, why are you walking so fast? Are you mad at me?"

She didn't answer.

"Sis, come on. You have to trust me. I wouldn't bet on something I wasn't sure about."

Still, she said nothing.

John tried another tactic. "By the way, that outfit you're wearing tonight? It really suits you. Especially the pants—they make your legs look long and elegant."

Queenie came to a screeching halt.

She whirled around, grabbed him by the collar, and hissed, "Why would you make such a ridiculous bet with Carlos? Don't you realize what's at stake? You could lose everything—and embarrass yourself!"

John covered his ears dramatically. "Sister, why won't you trust me?"

"Then tell me," she demanded. "Where is this so-called confidence coming from?"

John leaned close, lowering his voice into her ear. "Because the formula Carlos got... is fake."

Queenie's eyes widened. "Fake?"

"Yes," John said with a sly smile. "He thinks he stole our real formulation. But I deliberately left behind a version that looks convincing, yet has subtle flaws."

"But..." Queenie frowned. "Myra seems to be doing great in the market. I even tried it. It works."

"It's just a temporary effect," John said. "Give it a few more days. The side effects will start showing. Dryness, irritation, uneven skin tone—it'll blow up in their faces."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course," he said confidently. "Have I ever lied to you?"

Queenie stared at him, uncertain.

She wanted to believe him. She really did.

But deep inside, a small seed of doubt remained.