Bankrupt Husband? Actually, Hidden Gambling King

I stared intently at Hillary, desperately hoping to see even the slightest hint of hesitation or reluctance on her face.

But I found nothing.

She even urged me impatiently, "Hurry up, Lucas. Stop dawdling."

For a moment, I felt dazed.

Back in high school, Shane had led the whole class in isolating me. He'd corner me in the restroom and beat me up whenever he felt like it.

Once, Hillary had burst in, kicked aside the people blocking the door, and pulled my bruised, battered self behind her.

"He's mine," she declared to everyone there. "From now on, whoever dares touch him has to get through me first!"

Sunlight streamed in from behind her, making her look like a radiant warrior princess. But now, my warrior princess was linking arms with the very bully from back then, forcing me to bark like a dog in front of everyone.

Humiliated, I let out a few pitiful barks. "Woof… Woof…"

Shane held up his phone, laughing hysterically, capturing the entire shameful scene. He then casually tossed my watch into a corner trash can that was filled with spilled drinks and filth. It landed with a dull thud.

He smacked his forehead in feigned surprise.

"I was going to give it to the beggar at the door, but it looks like even the watch knows it's trash and jumped in by itself."

His words were clearly loaded.

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, barely managing to hold onto my sanity.

"Keep going," I said.

"Enough, Lucas! What else do you even have? Don't make a fool of yourself here," Hillary snapped, her tone full of disapproval and disgust.

I ignored her.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my car keys, and slammed them down on the table.

"This car, huh? There's a story there too… I've had a lot of fun with Hil in it. To be honest, the inside of that car's quite small, though."

His wording was subtle, but we were all adults here. Everyone understood what he was implying.

Blood rushed straight to my head, and I roared, "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Seeing my stormy expression, Shane slowly explained, "I meant just playing and joking around. Where did your mind go, Lucas?"

An odd look flickered across Hillary's face.

"Why are you yelling, Lucas? You startled Shane," she snapped.

Without even realizing it, her right hand rubbed the hem of her shirt. That was a telltale gesture she always made when she was nervous or lying.

No wonder she always came up with every excuse possible to avoid sleeping with me. As it turned out, she'd already gotten her fill elsewhere.

A few classmates, remaining neutral, patted my shoulder and tried to persuade me.

"Come on, Lucas. Don't play anymore. Shane has Hillary helping him, so you can't win. Don't make this any uglier."

I shook my head firmly.

"I'm continuing."

Shane scoffed, looking disdainfully at the car keys.

"I have no interest in this junk of a car. Let's go big.

"If I win, you take your dying mother and put her out of her misery right then and there. How about that?"

The room plunged into deadly silence at his suggestion.

Even a flicker of hesitation crossed Hillary's face, but she merely clenched Shane's hand tightly, not saying a word.

Her silence was consent.

In that moment, I no longer felt anger—only an icy chill spreading through my entire body.

I took a deep breath. "Fine."

I paused, then lifted my eyes to meet Shane's arrogant gaze.

"And if I win, you take your son with leukemia and put him out of his misery too," I added.

"Lucas Murray! Have you lost your mind?" Hillary shot to her feet, her face full of fury. "That's a human life! How can you be so cruel to a child?"

Just seconds ago, Shane had used my mother's life as a wager, and Hillary hadn't said a word. Now, when I retaliated in kind, she exploded in rage.

What? Was Mom's life not a life?

At the end of the day, neither Mom nor I had ever mattered to her. The last shred of hope in my heart was completely extinguished.

Instead, all I felt was a clarity I'd never experienced before.