Raising the Stakes: Cheating the King of Cheats

After all three of us had placed our bets, Jerome continued to deal the third card.

The cards were soon revealed.

Willow got the jack of spades. Paired with her face-up jack of diamonds, she now had a pair of jacks, instantly putting her in the lead.

Michael got the eight of hearts, and when put together with his ten of hearts, he now had the potential for a straight flush.

As for me, I only got the three of diamonds. Combined with my ace of spades, my hand was a mess. Despite having the highest single card, my overall potential seemed far worse than theirs.

The game reversed itself in an instant.

Jerome gestured to Willow. "Among all face-up cards, the pair of jacks is currently the highest. Ms. Baker, you have the first move. Bet or fold?"

Willow's face immediately regained its color. She glanced at my pitiful card on the table and nearly laughed out loud.

She spoke up to humiliate me.

"An idiot will be an idiot. You got an ace at the start and thought you could win? No wonder Father doesn't like you."

She tilted her head back and glowered at me with malice. "Nancy, since you like raising the stakes so much, let's go all out.

"I'll bet everything I'm currently wearing against you. The loser strips and crawls around the entire lounge. Let's show everyone who you really are underneath all that!

"Do you dare call?"

Amid the burning stares of the crowd, I lowered my head and stayed silent. My shoulders trembled ever so slightly, and my face was deathly pale, as if I had been too humiliated to speak or was gripped with fear.

Michael had been watching my fragile state with a cold, detached gaze. But as the chandelier flickered, he suddenly found my lowered gaze strangely familiar.

His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help saying, "Nancy, if you fold now—and out of respect for Mr. Jackson Senior—I'll let go of the port's 3% stake.

"However, you must break off the engagement. You also have to grovel and apologize to Willow and me. Only then will I let this matter be."

With that, Michael leaned back in his chair, his tone condescending. "Nancy, you'd better think carefully before you speak."

The lounge fell silent. Everyone expected me to take the easy way out and agree to Michael's terms.

But Michael was mistaken.

My shoulders weren't trembling from fear or humiliation. It was from excitement.

I hadn't encountered an idiot like Willow in years—someone who would just put their fate in my hands.

I slowly raised my head. In my mind, I ran through all the possible outcomes of the game again, confirming the inevitable result.

Perfect. Everything was in order.

"I'll call!"

As soon as those words landed, everyone, including Michael and Willow, froze in shock.

Michael mocked bluntly, "Clueless idiot."

I paid him no mind, watching his dark expression and saying teasingly, "Mr. Shaw, I've already placed my bet.

"Since you want me to grovel and apologize, I'll bet on that. If I win, I want you to drop your whole 'devoted to my mentor' act as an excuse to look for pathetic substitutes like Willow.

"You're not repaying a debt. You're taking revenge!"

The moment I questioned his feelings for his "mentor", Michael flew into a rage.

His eyes were practically blazing as he snapped at me, "Shut up! What do you know? You don't understand my feelings for my mentor at all. You're an outsider. Who gave you the right to comment on it?"

Michael's chest heaved with anger, and he abandoned all restraint. His gaze darkened as he said, "Alright! Fine! Since you want to be humiliated, don't expect me to show any mercy!"

He spun around to face Jerome and spat out through gritted teeth, "Call! Give me the fourth card!"