Hillary spoke up again, sounding like she was lecturing a naughty child, "Enough, Lucas. Stop making a scene. What could you possibly have to wager? Just go home already—your mom can't be left alone in the hospital."

The anger that had been building in my chest burst out of me. In a mocking tone, I snapped, "So you know my mom's in the hospital? So you clearly know that she's scheduled for brain surgery next week, and you still lost that three million dollars to Shane?

"What exactly did my mom ever do to you for you to treat her like this?"

A rare look of guilt flickered across Hillary's face, but it vanished almost instantly. She turned her head away and argued, "Money can always be earned again. Worst case, we can just borrow some money for your mom's surgery.

"Besides, that operation only has a 50% success rate. Rather than throwing that money down the drain, it's better to let Shane use it for emergencies. It's not easy for him to raise a kid by himself."

Disappointment crashed over me like a tidal wave, almost drowning me.

My mother had pitied Hillary for growing up without a father, so she always made sure Hillary had good food and nice clothes—even better than the ones she gave me.

When she found out Hillary had gastric issues, Mom searched the entire city for reputable doctors who dealt in traditional medicine. Then, every day at 5:00 am, she'd get up to brew herbal remedies for Hillary.

But now, in Hillary's eyes, Mom's life wasn't worth as much as Shane's supposed hardships. Three years of her genuine kindness had all gone down the drain.

Silently, I took off my watch and slammed it down on the table.

"Here."

The metal clanged against the tabletop, making a crisp yet heavy sound.

This was the watch Hillary had specially commissioned when we got married. The back of the watch was even engraved with our initials.

Shane took off his watch too and placed it down. It was a glittering one, clearly worth a fortune.

He deliberately laid the two watches side by side and said loudly to the crowd, "Mine was a gift from Hil.

"She sold the wedding gifts you got for her back then and used the money to have this watch made for me. It's not like certain people's watches here, which are probably just some 200-dollar bargain-bin deal with free shipping."

His words were completely unfiltered.

Everyone's eyes darted back and forth between the two watches. Shane's made mine look even cheaper, even more ridiculous.

It felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart, and I lowered my head in humiliation.

No wonder that less than a month after our wedding, when I'd asked about the whereabouts of the gifts I'd given her, she'd stammered and been evasive. She'd only said she had stored them away in a safe place.

As it turned out, she'd sold them to buy a watch for her first love. And the watch she'd tossed to me clearly wasn't worth the tens of thousands of dollars she'd claimed it was.

"Hurry up and play already! What are you stalling for?" someone shouted impatiently, eager for some drama.

I picked up the dice cup, and Shane picked up his.

His fingers flew, flipping the cup in a flashy move that drew cheers and applause. Meanwhile, I just gripped mine awkwardly and shook the cup up and down.

The stark contrast triggered another round of open ridicule and snickers.

We revealed the dice at the same time.

On his side were two fives. Ten. High.

On my side, it was one three and one four. Seven. Low.

"Wow! Shane's amazing!"

"Hillary really is an amazing teacher! Her student turned out to be just as good!"

The crowd kept praising him, and the looks they directed at me were full of gloating contempt.

Shane leaned triumphantly into Hillary's arms, looking like a cat that had gotten the cream.

"Oh, dear, your husband's luck isn't that great, Hil. What now that he's lost? Should we make him bark?"

Hillary pinched his cheek indulgently.

"Do what needs to be done. He was the one who insisted on gambling. He should learn his lesson."

Her gaze shifted to me, and all the tenderness in her eyes vanished, replaced by cold indifference.

Shane hooked my watch with his finger and twirled it in the air before whistling at me.

"Be a good boy and bark for me."

No one else in the private room said a word, but the undisguised malice in their eyes pierced me like a thousand needles.

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.

Shane swiftly pulled the enraged Hillary back into his arms and sat down again. He patted her back reassuringly while arrogantly agreeing to my wager.

"Don't be mad, Hil. There's no way he can win. Our son will be fine."

Whispers spread among the crowd.

"Take a look at the photo of Shane's son on his social media. The kid's eyes really do look like Hillary's."

"Yeah, I just remembered. Didn't Hillary go to Verdeau on a business trip for about six months four years ago? Wasn't Shane in Verdeau around the same time?"

"Now that you mention it…"

Shane's son was four years old.

That meant that when Hillary and I were discussing marriage, she and Shane had never fully broken things off.

And worse, she'd even become pregnant with his child.

What I thought was a sweet, loving romance had been nothing but a one-sided show on my part.

My heart ached like it had been ripped wide open. I wanted nothing more than to tear them to shreds right on the spot, but I held back.

"Let's start."

This round, I rolled first. A five and a six. Eleven.

Everyone turned to Shane nervously.

But he only smiled confidently and gave the dice cup a casual few shakes. Lifting the cup, he revealed two sixes. 12—boxcars.

All the strength drained out of me, and my face went deathly pale.

A few classmates approached Shane, trying to persuade him.

"Come on, just forget it, Shane. We're all classmates here. There's no need to involve someone's life."

"Yeah, gambling is one thing. Don't take it that far."

Shane ignored them completely. He pushed them aside and looked at me triumphantly.

"A bet's a bet. Don't think I don't know how much of Hil's money you spent on that old hag's medical bills!"

He waved a server over. "Go downstairs to the store and buy a bottle of pesticide."

"Lucas, you're not someone who can't admit defeat, right?" he asked, shooting me a taunting look.

I nodded stiffly.

Amid a chorus of sighs, I stubbornly demanded one more round.

"This time, I'll bet everything I have. Just one round—the winner takes all."

Hillary hissed a low warning at me, "Enough, Lucas. Stop while you can. You've really lost your mind."

There wasn't a shred of concern in her tone, only disgust and impatience.

Shane burst into arrogant laughter.

"What else do you even have left? Your worthless life?"

I raised my hand and pointed straight at Hillary sitting next to him.

"Hillary. If I lose this round, I'll divorce her. She'll be all yours."

Hillary's face flushed crimson with rage as she snapped, "What the hell are you babbling on about, Lucas Murray?"

I stood up from my seat and challenged Shane, "Do you have the guts? Just one round. If I win, I want back everything that was lost earlier, plus another three million dollars."

My bloodshot eyes made everyone think I'd completely lost my mind in the heat of gambling.

Shane pulled Hillary—who was still trying to talk to me out of it—into his arms again. His face was practically beaming with excitement.

"Alright. It's a deal!"

He eagerly reached for the dice cup, only for a fair hand to land firmly on it—Hillary's.

She stared intently at me, her gaze shooting daggers.

"I'll play on his behalf this round. I won't let you win, Lucas."

I gave an unbothered smile, ignoring the sharp, throbbing pain stabbing through my chest.

To everyone watching, it appeared as if Hillary had completely crushed my spirit, and I'd already given up.

She revealed her dice first. Two sixes—another boxcars.

The crowd gasped in awe.

"She's got it in the bag! Hillary's amazing!"

"Boxcars! As expected of a national player! She's on another level!"

Shane leaned in and kissed her on the cheek smugly, then turned to look at me as if I were a dead man walking.

Right then, the classmate sitting closest to me let out a startled cry.

"Quick, look! What is that?"

Everyone's eyes instantly snapped toward me.