Raising the Stakes: Cheating the King of Cheats

Everyone in the city knows that Michael Shaw despises me to my core. He even takes pleasure in humiliating me in public at banquets.

He sneers, "My family made its fortune through gambling. Nancy Jackson is just a pretty face who can't even recognize all the suits in a deck of cards. Marrying her would be worse than marrying an inflatable doll that at least reacts!"

Still, the marriage agreement between our families comes first. On top of that, the fake heiress, who is his true love, can't have children. So, he forces me to gamble with him.

"If you lose, I want your womb to bear me a child. You have to get a C-section without anesthesia," he demands cruelly.

I've long had enough of him always giving me a hard time.

A soft laugh escapes my lips, and I reply, "Fine. If I win, then I want your manhood, Michael."

The crowd bursts into laughter. Everyone says that I'm overestimating myself. Everyone knows Michael is the best gambler in the city.

I lower my eyes and say nothing.

Indeed, he is one of the best. After all, five years ago on a stormy night, I was the one who held those hands and taught him how to cheat for the first time to stay alive.

Amidst the laughter echoing through the lounge, I sat down at the poker table with composure.

When he saw how calm I was, Michael Shaw raised an eyebrow, seemingly a bit intrigued.

"Not bad. You do have some guts," he said.

But then his tone shifted, the contempt growing thicker. "But you're all guts and no brains. Ms. Jackson, you can't even tell the suits apart. Do I need to explain the rules of poker to you?"

Upon glancing at the green felt table, a wave of familiarity rushed back.

I shook my head and raised a hand to stop him. "Thank you, Mr. Shaw, but there's no need. Five cards, four face-up, one face-down. We compare the values. Even I know that much."

"Fine. Since Ms. Jackson is so clear on the rules, let's begin!"

Michael sneered and gestured to the dealer standing by, Jerome Durham, to deal the cards.

"Wait!"

Just then, a coquettish voice rang out from the crowd.

"Michael, the more players there are, the more fun it becomes. What's the point of just you and Nancy playing? Why not include me?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Willow Baker—the scantily dressed fake heiress and my half-sister—stepped out from the crowd and sat right on Michael's lap.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shot me a provocative look, taunting, "Nancy, you don't mind, do you?"

Willow was this brazen right in front of me, Michael's rightful fiancee, but he didn't mind. He even pinched her cheeks playfully and teased, "You're so cheeky, Willow.

"Your sister is a beginner. Are you really going to sit at the table and bully her too?"

Willow pouted, about to whine back.