Jenson's POV
At that time, all eyes were locked on us, wide and unblinking. Everyone was waiting for us to reveal our final cards.
“You’ve got the highest card,” the dealer said to me. “You show first.”
Martin lounged back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, pulling Cecilia back onto his lap again.
“Babe,” he said lazily, “ever tried smoking?”
“Yeah,” she giggled.
He handed her a cigarette, and the two of them lit up. They whispered something to each other, which made her cheeks flush red, but I had no idea what it was.
Not wanting to see another second of that disgusting display, I shoved all my chips forward and said, “Call it or fold.”
“Call,” Cecilia said with a smirk. “Oh, and while we’re at it, sign this too.”
She slapped a divorce agreement down in front of me.
“Set me free, Jenson. A man like you doesn’t deserve someone like me.”
“Cecilia, you’re rotten to the core!” my mother’s voice rang out, sharp and furious. “My son treated you like a queen from the moment you stepped into our home. He gave you everything. Loved you. Protected you. And this is how you repay him? By crawling into bed with another man and destroying his life? You’re shameless!”
But before I could react, Cecilia stormed forward and slapped my mother across the face hard. Then came a punch to her side.
Seeing that, I bolted up, rage surging through me, but Martin’s men blocked my path.
“Cecilia! That’s enough!” I shouted. “Let my mother go! You want a divorce? Fine, I’ll give it to you!”
I turned back to the table, and Martin tossed a pen at my face.
I caught it and, without saying a word, signed the damn paper.
“You really think you’ve already won?” I said coldly. “Don’t come crawling back when it’s too late, Cecilia.”
Because I was holding a trump card that would crush his lousy set of threes.
“Oh, please. The only one crawling will be you,” she snapped.
Fine. If that was how they wanted to play it, I'd make sure she'd never get the chance to come back.
“Mom, just hang in there. I’m going to get you out of this,” I said, taking my seat again and meeting Martin’s eyes with pure defiance.
“Show your hand first,” he said.
To speed things up, I flipped over my final card.
“Jack. Straight flush. Martin, you're finished.”
For a moment, the room went completely silent.
Then, laughter exploded.
“HAHAHAHA! You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“That’s a King, not a Jack! The guy’s lost his damn mind!”
“Dude must’ve snapped from losing too much.”
"Maybe he did lose!" Cecilia sneered as she walked up to my mother, twirling a dagger in front of her face with arrogant flair. “Well, old hag, what now? Your precious son, Jenson, just lost! According to the rules of the bet, that means we cut off your hand!”
“Aaaah! No! Please don’t cut off my hand! Son, help me! Please!” my mother begged, extremely scared and panicking.
I blinked, and looked down at my cards again.
This wasn’t right.
It was supposed to be a Jack. Why did it suddenly become a King?
Cold sweat dripped down my back. My heart pounded in disbelief.
Was this really happening?
Had I come back from the dead only to live out the same nightmare all over again?
My so-called title of “King of Gambling” was already in pieces. And the looks from the crowd, once filled with admiration, were now full of pity and disgust.
“Jenson, you've lost. You seriously thought you could have a straight flush with a K?? What a joke.”
Then my mother’s scream shattered through the chaos. “AHHHHH!”
I spun around just in time to see her hand severed.
Cecilia then picked up the severed hand like it was trash and tossed it at my feet.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said mockingly. “Here, take it. It’s all yours.”
She even had the nerve to pretend to look heartbroken.
My hands trembled as I clenched my fists. Rage boiled inside me, shaking me to the core.
But again, they blocked me, keeping me from reaching my mother.
“Jenson,” Martin said, calm as ever, “if you want to save her, then show up tomorrow on time. Next time, it won’t just be a hand. It’ll be a corpse.”
