From Poker Chip to Sterling BrideFrom Poker Chip to Sterling Bride

On our anniversary, my boyfriend, Bryce Walker, told me he had a surprise for me.

He flew me to Las Vegas and blindfolded me with a silk scarf.

After what felt like an eternity, strong arms pulled me against the chest of a stranger.

My body was limp, the drug coursing through my veins. I cried, begging him not to touch me.

A soft chuckle came from above. I recognized him—the most mysterious lone wolf from our college days, Julian Sterling.

He raised a hand to wipe away my tears, his voice a low whisper. "Leave him," he sighed. "Be with me."

Then, he handed me a tablet.

The screen showed a live feed from the suite's main room.

A high-stakes poker game was in full swing. Bryce and his friends were shrouded in smoke, and I was the prize. Someone asked him:

"Is your girlfriend really that hot? I won't believe it until I get a taste."

"What are you thinking? That's Bryce's girl. You think he won't kill you if you touch her?"

Amid the clamor, Bryce spoke, his voice languid.

"Win this hand, and she's yours."

Through the jeers, someone else asked, "What about that little angel of yours, Chloe Jennings? I'd love to..."

"Don't you dare!" Bryce slammed his hand on the table.

"Chloe is the only pure angel in my heart. If any of you so much as lay a finger on her, I'll wring your neck!"

He let that pack of hyenas talk about my body, spewing the filthiest fantasies imaginable.

Yet, he wouldn't let anyone so much as breathe on Chloe.

I dried my tears and turned to Julian. "If I become your girlfriend, will you help me destroy him?"

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1

"Are you serious?"

Years after graduation, Julian still had that same cold, unapproachable aura about him.

He shot me a scornful glance.

"You're not just saying that to escape, are you?"

As he spoke, his arm tightened, pulling me flush against his chest.

"Don't forget, your boyfriend lost you to me."

"Whether you agree or not, tonight, you belong to me."

His warm breath brushed against my neck.

I wanted to shove him away with all my might, but my body was as limp as a ragdoll.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, as if to kiss me.

But he stopped just a breath away from my lips, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Avery, tell me, is your boyfriend blind?"

His fingers traced a light path across my cheek, tangling in my hair.

"Using you as a poker chip. Losing you to another man."

"If my woman were in a room with another man, I'd go insane."

His hand slowly drifted lower, and I could feel my cheeks burning.

"Julian..."

I realized the champagne Bryce gave me must have been heavily drugged.

"Help me... or—"

I steeled myself. "You can have me."

I squeezed my eyes shut and heard him let out an impossibly soft laugh.

Then came the rustle of clothing.

I bit my lip, my body tensing in nervous anticipation.

But the next second, a shock of icy water jolted me from head to toe.

I gasped, my eyes flying open to find he had tossed me into a large, cold-water bathtub. Julian had already straightened his clothes and was standing a few steps away.

"I don't prey on the vulnerable. But that doesn't mean I'm rejecting your offer."

The suite's lighting was dim, and I couldn't make out his expression.

He said, "From this day on, you're my girlfriend. I'll help you get your revenge on that scumbag, no questions asked."

With that, Julian turned and left the bathroom.

As the cold water washed over my skin, the drug's effects finally began to recede.

I don't know when I passed out.

I only remember waking to the sound of Julian’s voice. "Your boyfriend is outside."

I hadn't even processed his words.

The bedroom door creaked open.

Bryce tiptoed in, and just as I was about to make a sound, Julian's hand covered my mouth.

When I saw the girl he was leading by the hand, I froze.

Her name was Chloe Jennings. She was a social media model, dressed in a pure white dress, the very picture of innocence.

Soon, Bryce pressed her against the living room wall, kissing her with a restrained, infatuated passion.

My mind flashed back to the surveillance footage.

Bryce had called Chloe the "only pure angel" in his heart.

But in the beginning...

I used to be the "one-of-a-kind" girl he spoke of.

I stared out, my eyes fixed on Bryce, his gaze now filled with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years.

Chloe, not satisfied, hooked her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, guiding his hand beneath her dress.

But Bryce gently stopped her.

"Be good," he murmured. "I don't want our first time to be rushed, not here. After the music festival, we'll go back to New York. I'll get us the most expensive suite."

Chloe smiled shyly.

"Avery's been devoted to you for six years. Did you sweet-talk her like this too?"

Bryce was silent for a moment. "No."

Chloe pouted coquettishly. "You're lying, I don't believe you."

A bitter smile touched my lips.

He wasn't lying.

I remembered our first time.

He'd coaxed me, whispering about giving me the most unforgettable experience.

It ended up being on the floor of his empty start-up office.

He couldn't even spring for a hotel room.

So this was the difference between being loved and not.

"Bryce, am I prettier, or is your girlfriend prettier?"

"You are."

Chloe hooked her arms around his neck and chuckled softly. "That makes sense. Otherwise, you wouldn't have used her as a stake and lost her to another man."

"Maybe right now, she's in bed with someone else. Aren't you sad?"

Bryce let out a scornful laugh.

"She's already tainted anyway. What's one more time?"

His words struck me like a physical blow.

I was still cold to the bone long after he and Chloe had disappeared.

I knew what he was talking about. That time in college.

At a party, I was cornered and harassed by a few drunk jocks from the school team.

I came back with my dress torn.

Vicious rumors flew, claiming I had been assaulted by those men.

I insisted, again and again, that they hadn't succeeded.

On the surface, Bryce seemed to believe me, holding me gently. "I know. My Avery will always be pure and innocent."

But behind my back, he told his friends:

"Avery? Who knows how many men have touched her."

"I don't even want to touch her. She's disgusting."

So, from the very beginning...

He had never believed me.