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Mike's Bet, Sarah's Win

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 835    |    Released on: 09/06/2025

as a rundown clapboard bui

e letters dead. Beer and stale c

few dusty pickup trucks wer

" Mike mumbled, his voice tig

gine. The silence in

ood idea. These guys... Jake

ho they a

The cold morning

hesitating. I gl

k you to. Just watch. And try not to

hard, nodded,

trance. The wooden porch

d beers at the bar, ignoring us. The bartender, a beefy man with a faded tattoo of

oor at the back,

d me, practically

door open wit

gar smoke. A single bare bulb h

beer bottles and overflowing

ds in his hand. A greasy smile spre

at dragged in! Mikey! Come b

shifty, flicked to m

. He just grunted, his eyes cold and empty. The o

ne. He looked like he want

stepping forward. Mike sta

little. He clearly had

me up and down with an oily confidence that made my ski

ing tonight," I said, my voice

Lost a bit of pocket change, huh, Mikey?

nd dollars. P

, pulsed through me.

chairs and sitting down at the table without an invitation

om wen

jaw slightly agape. V

all, choked so

A wide, predatory grin

laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "Well, I'

What do you say, boys? Sho

changed

of them slurred. "M

ght then. Pull up a seat. Though, fair warning,

the table. Red, white, b

s currently?" I ask

llar max bet," Jake said

ty thousand dollars in one night with a hundred-dollar ma

was the game they played when they

specific targ

hesitant smile. The kind of smile a housewi

e?" I asked, fe

d. He thought he h

ame." He started shuffling the cards with a pra

t on TV," I

all groan behind

starting to deal. "Let's see if Lad

lled out Emily's two hundred do

crumple

meager pile for a second, a

smiled.

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Mike's Bet, Sarah's Win
Mike's Bet, Sarah's Win
“The smell of burnt turkey still hung in the air, but the stench of ruin was far stronger. My husband Mike, the man who worked his hands raw, sat at our kitchen table, his head in his hands. Eighty thousand dollars. Vanished. Emily's college fund, Mom's arthritis surgery, next year's mortgage on our Texas ranch house. Our entire future. He'd lost it all in a 'friendly game' of poker with his old buddy, Jake Riley. Mike was broken, promising double shifts, desperate to make it right. But it was too little, too late. I knew Jake. A leech, a con artist. Eighty grand in one night? This wasn't just bad luck; it was a setup. They thought they'd taken my hardworking, trusting husband for a fool. They thought they'd won. The numbness faded, replaced by cold fury. A faint, almost invisible scar on my left wrist, a ghost from a past I'd buried in the neon glare of Las Vegas, began to throb. I smashed Emily's ceramic unicorn, took her meager savings. 'Get up, Mike,' my voice cold, hard. 'We're going to pay Jake a visit.' He was terrified. I just smiled, a bitter, dangerous smile. He had no idea who he'd married. And Jake Riley was about to meet the 'Phantom Hand.'”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10