The Heiress's Wager Chapter 3

Sienna paused, then her smile turned sickeningly sweet. "Oh, Seraphina wants to keep playing? How fun!"

She sat back on Julian’s lap, hooking a finger into his tie. "But sweetie, you lost most of your chips. What are you going to bet with?"

I pulled a Black Card from my clutch and tossed it onto the felt.

"Credit line. Five hundred thousand."

The room inhaled sharply.

Julian’s gaze finally wavered. He sat up. "Seraphina—"

"What? Afraid I'll lose your money?" I interrupted, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh wait. It's not your money. It's mine. Vane family money."

That was a slap in the face.

Because it was true.

Julian Thorne might be the heir to Thorne Enterprises, but until our engagement, Vane Capital’s market cap had consistently tracked 20% higher than Thorne’s.

This marriage meant far more to the Thorne family than it did to the Vanes.

And Julian knew it.

Everyone knew it.

His face turned a furious shade of crimson.

Leo jumped in to break the tension. "Alright, alright, let's play. Ante up."

For the next three hands, I lost miserably.

I lost my shoes.

I lost my necklace.

I lost my earrings.

All I had left was the red slip dress—the one I had carefully chosen for tonight, thinking Julian would be the one taking it off me later.

Now it was my last shield.

The crowd was getting rowdy, sensing blood like sharks in the water.

"Ten bucks says she cries."

"No, she's too proud. But she's gonna bolt any second."

"Dude, this is better than a Knicks game."

Sienna won another hand. She stood up and kicked a wine bottle on the table with the toe of her stiletto, the insult deliberate.

"Pour me a drink, babe. Winner's privilege."

I took a deep breath.

Stood up.

Picked up the bottle.

I poured her drink, glass after glass.

My hands were shaking.

But I didn't cry.

Julian suddenly spoke, his voice filled with disgust. "Seraphina, you've embarrassed yourself enough. Get out."

Everyone on the yacht knew by now.

Seraphina Vane was destroying her reputation at her own engagement party.

The heiress who never gambled was losing hand after hand like a maniac.

Losing money.

Losing dignity.

Losing everything.

"I heard she's down to her underwear."

"Pathetic. She's desperate to keep Julian's attention."

"He's definitely dumping her after tonight."

I heard the whispers.

I heard the mockery.

I saw Julian’s cold eyes.

I saw Sienna’s triumphant smirk.

Then I felt it.

That thing buried deep in my heart since I was fourteen.

It shattered.

Completely.

I set the bottle down and looked at Julian.

I looked at the face I had loved for a decade.

"Julian." My voice was unnervingly calm.

He frowned, impatience written all over him. "What now?"

"One more hand. But let's make it interesting."

"I've seen enough of you humiliating yourself—"

"I bet everything."

I cut him off.

The room went silent.

"I bet every asset in my name. My trust fund. My real estate portfolio. My stocks. Everything."

"We are in international waters, right? If we both sign, it's legally binding."

Leo’s face went pale. "Sera, this is insanity—"

"How much are we talking?" Brody asked suddenly, greed glinting in his eyes.

I looked at him and slowly stated the number. "Roughly five hundred million dollars. Give or take."

The room exploded.

"Holy shit—"

"She's bluffing—"

"Her family won't let her—"

Julian shot to his feet so fast Sienna almost tumbled to the floor.

His eyes were razor-sharp. "Seraphina Vane, do you know what you are saying?"

I met his gaze.

"Perfectly."

"If I lose, you take it all. Everything."

I paused, and then I smiled slowly.

It must have been a terrifying smile, because I saw Sienna take a step back.

"But if I win—"

"You and her—" I pointed a finger at Sienna, "jump off this yacht. Swim back to shore. In the middle of the Atlantic. In November."

Dead silence.

The yacht had been sailing for three hours.

We were at least 20 nautical miles offshore.

The water temperature was about 50 degrees Fahrenheit.

Even an Olympic swimmer wouldn't last long in that water.

This wasn't a gamble.

It was a death sentence.

Sienna’s face turned ghastly white. "You're fucking crazy—"

"And one more thing." I looked at Julian, emphasizing every syllable:

"Our engagement ends. I don't want you, Julian Thorne. I don't want any of this."

"I'm done."