The night air carried a biting chill, but I didn't feel it as I walked, my feet automatically taking me toward the edge of town. My mind raced, a tangle of anger and indignation,
She had no right. Acting as though I couldn't be trusted. And for what? A few drinks? A handful of nights where I tried to forget everything weighing me down? She couldn't possibly understand what it felt like to carry all this.
As the glowing lights of the gambling house came into view, my pace quickened. It was small and unassuming, tucked away behind an old stone building, but to me, it felt like a sanctuary. The last time I'd come here, I'd left with more than I'd ever dreamed. I'd felt invincible, powerful – like the world was finally bowing to me for once.
Tonight, I needed that feeling again.
The door creaked as I pushed it open, and the low hum of conversation and the clatter of dice greeted me. The room smelled faintly of smoke and desperation, but the familiar buzz of anticipation stirred something in my chest. I took a seat at one of the tables, the coins from my fist spilling onto the wood with a satisfying clink.
"You're back," the dealer said, a sly grin tugging at his lips. He was a wiry man with sharp eyes that seemed to gleam under the dim light.
"Just for a little fun," I said, trying to sound casual. My heart was already pounding.
The game began, and for the first few rounds, things went smoothly. I played conservatively, holding back on the bigger bets. The coins piled up in front of me slowly but steadily, and with each win, I felt my confidence grow.
"Looks like luck's still on your side," the dealer remarked, his grin widening.
I gave a tight smile, but inside, I was starting to feel it – that itch, that hunger for more. It wasn't enough to just win. I needed to win big. To prove that I wasn't some fool scrambling for scraps. To prove… what? I wasn't even sure anymore.
The next round, I pushed all my coins into the center of the table. My chest tightened as I waited for the dice to land, my mind racing through a dozen possibilities.
This is it. I'll double it, triple it. I'll go home and throw the money on the table, show her how wrong she was to doubt me.
But the dealer released the last card, and my heart plummeted. I lost.
The dealer's grin grew wider, and the other players murmured softly as the coins were swept away. I forced a laugh, though it sounded strained. "Just warming up," I muttered, pulling out the last few coins I'd tucked into my pocket as backup.
Another round. Another loss.
My pulse quickened, and a cold sweat began to form on my brow. I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself. It's fine. It's just a setback.
But it wasn't fine. The coins were disappearing faster than I could keep track of, and my chest only grew tighter.
By the time the last of my money was gone, I felt like I couldn't breathe. The room seemed darker, the air heavier. I stared at the empty space in front of me where my winnings should have been, my mind racing.
How could this happen? How could I lose everything?
The dealer gave me a sympathetic look, though it was laced with amusement. "Tough night, huh?"
I didn't answer. My thoughts were too loud, drowning out everything else. Qianqian's voice echoed in my head, sharp and accusing. Every coin you spend there is one less for us to eat with.
What would I tell her? That I'd lost it all? That she'd been right? The thought made my stomach churn.
No. I couldn't go back like this. Not empty-handed. I needed a way to fix this, to get it all back. My eyes darted around the room, searching for something – anything.
"Want to borrow a little?" The dealer's voice cut through the haze.
I looked up sharply, my stomach twisting. His expression was as predatory as ever, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. He held up a small pouch of coins, letting it dangle between two fingers like bait on a hook.
Borrow money? The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. My throat felt dry, my chest tight. I knew what this meant. Borrowing money from a place like this wasn't just borrowing. It was a chain, a noose. People who owned the gambling house were owned.
The image of Qianqian flashed in my mind. Her sharp words. Her distrust. Every coin you spend there is one less for us to eat with. What would she think if she knew I'd even considered this? What would she say if she saw me now, penniless and desperate?
And Bella. What would she do, if she found out that I was so pathetic? That I lost all of my money gambling with a bunch of low-class men? She was the first woman to truly look up to me. I knew it was a lie – she thought I was rich, that I was intelligent. But the thought of breaking that beautiful illusion made me feel sick.
But then, another thought crept in, quieter but insidious. What's the alternative? Walk out of here with nothing? Go back to her empty-handed, admit you were wrong? Admit you're a failure?
My hands clenched into fists at my sides. I couldn't bear the thought of Bella – of either of them – looking at me like that – with pity, with disappointment. I couldn't let them have that power over me.
And if I could just win it back... That's all it would take. I'd been on top before, hadn't I? I'd turned a handful of coins into a small fortune. What was stopping me from doing it again? The risk wasn't real. It couldn't be.
Yet, deep down, a voice whispered to me, insistent and panicked. This is a mistake. You know where this leads. You've seen what happens to men who borrow here. I'd heard the stories – how they'd end up selling their belongings, their dignity, sometimes even their homes to repay what they owed. Some disappeared altogether, swallowed by their debts.
"Come on," the dealer said, his voice almost teasing now. He rattled the pouch lightly, the coins inside clinking together in a seductive rhythm. "One more chance. You're not going to quit now, are you?"
My gaze fell to the pouch, my mind a storm of conflict. It would be so easy. Just one more round. One more chance to make it right. I felt the cold weight of fear settle in my stomach, but it was quickly overtaken by the sharp, bitter taste of desperation. I couldn't stop now. I couldn't let this be the end.
With trembling hands, I reached out and took the pouch.
The dealer's grin widened, his sharp eyes gleaming. "Good choice," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sure your luck will turn around."
As I poured the coins onto the table, my mind churned with fear and defiance. This has to work. It has to. I'll get it all back. I'll win.
The coins clinked against the table, glinting under the dim light. I forced a smile, though my hands shook as I pushed the last of the borrowed money forward. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out the hum of the gambling house. I told myself this was it – my moment of redemption.
The dealer flipped the cards with a practiced ease, his face a mask of smug indifference. My eyes darted to the table, frantically calculating odds. I glanced at the other players, trying to analyze their facial expressions.
The cards felt cool and sure in my hands, their edges sharp against my fingertips. A nine of diamonds and a queen of diamonds. The same cards I was dealt last time. The ones I won with. This time, I had a pair.
A glimmer of hope sparked in my chest, cutting through the tension like a blade. I inhaled deeply, steadying his breath as I glanced at the growing pile of chips in front of him. This time, I wasn't bluffing. I had a pair. I pushed the pile of chips in front of me to the center of the table.
I smiled, a quiet confidence blooming as I leaned back in his chair and swept my gaze around the table. The other players eyed me with varying degrees of skepticism and caution. I could see the wheels turning in their heads, weighing their chances, calculating their risks.
"Your move," I said lightly.
Most folded, their faces grim as they tossed their cards to the dealer. But one man hesitated.
My attention locked onto him, a gaunt old man with hollow eyes. His trembling hands hovered over his chips, and his jaw worked as though he were chewing over an impossible decision.
"I match," the man said finally, his voice low and strained, pushing his remaining chips forward.
The dealer nodded and revealed the community cards one by one. The first three came up: a king of hearts, a nine of clubs, and a six of spades.
My heart skipped a beat. The nine paired his hand. He felt the rush of adrenaline surging through his veins, and his confidence solidified.
The turn: a four of diamonds. No danger there.
The river: a queen of clubs.
I nearly laughed. A second pair. A nine and a queen. My chest swelled with triumph as I set my cards face down on the table, savoring the anticipation of the reveal.
"Let's see them," the dealer said.
I flipped his cards over with a flourish, spreading them neatly on the felt. "Pair of queens, pair of nines," I announced, my voice brimming with pride.
The others murmured, nodding in reluctant acknowledgment. I glanced at the desperate man, expecting to see defeat.
The man, however, wore a strange expression – half-shock, half-relief – as he revealed his hand: a nine of diamonds and a queen of diamonds.
I froze, staring at the cards as though they were mocking me. The exact same pair. But the dealer's voice cut through the haze:
"Flush. Diamonds."
It hit me like a punch to the gut. Higher than my two pairs.
The dealer pulled the chips toward the man, whose hands shook as he tried to gather them up. His shoulders heaved, and his lips moved soundlessly, perhaps forming a prayer.
My heart plummeted, my stomach churning. I clenched his fists under the table, my nails digging into his palms.
The same cards I had. The same cards I won with before. But this time, they betrayed me.
The man didn't respond, too focused on his newly acquired chips. I watched as he scooped them into his chest, cradling them like they were salvation itself.
I leaned back in his chair, my mind spiraling. I replayed the hand over and over, the cruel irony of the cards gnawing at me. A queen and a nine. They had felt like a lifeline, a chance to claw his way back, but instead, they had dragged me under.
The man's hollow eyes flicked up briefly, meeting mine for a brief moment. There was no gloating in his expression, no smugness. Just a deep, aching relief.
I swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the rising tide of despair. Around me, the room buzzed with murmurs and laughter, but it all felt distant, unreal. The cards that had once been my salvation had chosen someone else tonight. And now, I was left with nothing.
"No… no, wait," I stammered, my voice barely audible. My hands trembled as I reached for the edge of the table, as if clutching it could somehow undo what had just happened. "That can't be it. Just one more –"
"Your credit's up," the dealer said flatly, already turning his attention to the round of people that rushed in to replace the previous players.
I felt the walls closing in, the air thick and suffocating. My chest heaved as I tried to steady my breathing, but the panic clawed at my throat. I owed them everything. Everything I didn't have. What would they do to me? What would happen when I couldn't pay?
Qianqian's face appeared in my mind again, her voice scolding and sharp. My knees went weak. She didn't know. She couldn't know. And Isabelle – what if Isabelle found out I wasn't the man I pretended to be? My stomach churned violently.
I couldn't stay here. I couldn't face this. My legs moved on their own, carrying me away from the table, but the dealer's voice stopped me cold.
"You still owe the house."
I froze. My head turned slowly, dread pooling in my chest as I met his gaze. His eyes were sharp, piercing through me like daggers.
"I… I'll get the money," I stuttered, forcing the words past my dry throat. "I left the rest at home."
"Funny how they all say that," he muttered, his lips curling into a sneer. "I need it now."
I sputtered. "Obviously I don't have that money. Otherwise, I wouldn't have needed to borrow any from you."
"Fine. Give it to me before sunrise. Or you know what happens, don't you?"
The implication hung heavy in the air, and I felt my knees buckle. Before I could say anything else, a voice cut through the tension.
"How much does he owe?"
I turned sharply, my heart lurching. Bella stood there, her face calm but her eyes burning with something I couldn't place. She looked out of place in the chaotic swirl of the gambling house, her simple but elegant outfit glowing under the dim light.
"Bella," I croaked, my voice barely audible. "What are you doing here?"
She didn't answer me. Her gaze stayed fixed on the dealer, her expression unyielding.
"Twenty-five," the dealer replied smoothly, his tone shifting to something almost oily. "Quite a debt for such a fine gentleman."
"I'll cover it," she said, pulling out a small pouch and tossing it onto the table without hesitation.
"Wait!" I protested, stepping forward. My face burned with shame, my heart pounding with humiliation. "Bella, you don't need to do this! I – I have the money at home, I swear. I just didn't bring it with me –"
"Enough," she said, cutting me off. Her voice was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.
I stared at her, confusion and embarrassment warring inside me. "Why… why are you even here?" I asked, my voice trembling. "How did you – "
"That's not important," she said, her tone carefully neutral. She avoided my eyes, her expression unreadable.
"No," I insisted, stepping closer. "It is important. Why are you here? How did you know – "
"Taihan." She finally met my gaze, and her eyes softened for a moment. "Not now."
I faltered, the intensity of her gaze silencing me. The dealer scooped up the coins with a satisfied smirk and waved us off, already turning his attention to the next unlucky soul.
As we stepped away from the table, my mind spun in a hundred directions. My embarrassment was suffocating, but more than that, I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that something wasn't right. Why had she been here? How had she known I was in trouble? And why was she so unwilling to explain?
"Thank you," I mumbled, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. "But… I don't understand. Why would you – "
"I said not now," she interrupted, her voice softer this time but no less firm.
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with questions I didn't dare ask. For the first time, I couldn't read her. The Isabelle I thought I knew felt suddenly distant. She felt a world away now, and the harsh truth of it hit me: I had gambled away more than just money tonight.