"Alright, let the game begin."
"Kerry, don't say I didn't give you a fighting chance—we'll play stud poker, your specialty."
As if I had any other choice. The power was entirely in May's hands. I was bound to the card table, with only one hand freed to hold my cards.
"Gentlemen, once this piece of trash loses, feel free to have your fun with his dear mother. I'll even throw in cash for drinks."
"Hell yeah!"
The room erupted into cheers again, every man leering at my mother like starving wolves circling wounded prey.
Mark sat beside the card shark, watching me with naked provocation in his eyes.
"Kerry, here are the rules: every hand you lose, we strip one piece of clothing off your mother."
"Haha! And if you don't—"
"Can we start?"
I refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.
I knew exactly what Mark was doing. He wanted to toy with me, to shatter my nerves piece by piece, to drown me in fear and despair until I broke.
But reality left no room for dwelling. The dealer had already approached to deal the cards. Every man in the room rushed to place bets—all of them on Mark's side.
May swirled the red wine in her glass, watching the scene unfold with the calm certainty of someone who'd already won.
After the deal, I lifted my hand and checked my cards, flipping up the seven of hearts as my face card. My hole card would be my lifeline.
The shark's face card was the king of spades. He looked at me with undisguised contempt.
"Kerry, you'd better watch yourself."
The crowd craned their necks to see, laughing and clapping.
"I've got the high card. I'll call it—betting the second piece of clothing off that old hag."
I had no choice but to match. But May objected.
For a split second, I thought she'd had a change of heart. I was wrong.
"You don't have any stakes to gamble with! Sure, the company's mine now, but all that money you've squirreled away over the years isn't in my hands."
"So you'll have to put it up as collateral. No money to call? Then I suppose we'll just have to tear—"
She let the threat hang, her smile razor-thin.
My fists clenched until my knuckles went white.
Clever. So goddamn clever. Using my mother as a chip while forcing me to bet everything I had.
"I call."
"Hahaha! Like he's got a cent left to his name!"
I gave my bank account number directly to one of the staff to verify. Only after they confirmed my funds would they allow me to continue.
The dealer proceeded to the next round. I drew the seven of spades. The shark drew the six of clubs.
"High card's mine. I bet my mother's safety."
Mark sneered, utterly dismissive—as if no matter what I did, the outcome was already written.
The next card came. Mine was the ace of hearts. The shark's was the ace of spades.
Mark pushed half of the chips forward with a grin. "Half your entire fortune. You don't get a choice."
"Hahaha! Call or don't—either way, you're screwed!"
I looked at my mother. Tears streamed down her face as she choked out the words: "Son, just go! Don't do this for me—"
"Mom, it's okay."
I turned back to face them and called.
Fourth street. I drew the seven of clubs. The shark drew the ace of diamonds.
Mark lit a cigarette and took a slow drag, the ember glowing. "Kerry, you still dare to call?"
I stared at my pair of sevens, trusting my hole card to carry me through.
"Call."
"Show them."
I refused to believe they had three aces. I was willing to gamble everything.
But when the hole cards flipped—my three sevens crumbled against their three aces.
I slumped back against the chair, fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms.
