Everyone in the city knows that Michael Shaw despises me to my core. He even takes pleasure in humiliating me in public at banquets.

He sneers, "My family made its fortune through gambling. Nancy Jackson is just a pretty face who can't even recognize all the suits in a deck of cards. Marrying her would be worse than marrying an inflatable doll that at least reacts!"

Still, the marriage agreement between our families comes first. On top of that, the fake heiress, who is his true love, can't have children. So, he forces me to gamble with him.

"If you lose, I want your womb to bear me a child. You have to get a C-section without anesthesia," he demands cruelly.

I've long had enough of him always giving me a hard time.

A soft laugh escapes my lips, and I reply, "Fine. If I win, then I want your manhood, Michael."

The crowd bursts into laughter. Everyone says that I'm overestimating myself. Everyone knows Michael is the best gambler in the city.

I lower my eyes and say nothing.

Indeed, he is one of the best. After all, five years ago on a stormy night, I was the one who held those hands and taught him how to cheat for the first time to stay alive.

Amidst the laughter echoing through the lounge, I sat down at the poker table with composure.

When he saw how calm I was, Michael Shaw raised an eyebrow, seemingly a bit intrigued.

"Not bad. You do have some guts," he said.

But then his tone shifted, the contempt growing thicker. "But you're all guts and no brains. Ms. Jackson, you can't even tell the suits apart. Do I need to explain the rules of poker to you?"

Upon glancing at the green felt table, a wave of familiarity rushed back.

I shook my head and raised a hand to stop him. "Thank you, Mr. Shaw, but there's no need. Five cards, four face-up, one face-down. We compare the values. Even I know that much."

"Fine. Since Ms. Jackson is so clear on the rules, let's begin!"

Michael sneered and gestured to the dealer standing by, Jerome Durham, to deal the cards.

"Wait!"

Just then, a coquettish voice rang out from the crowd.

"Michael, the more players there are, the more fun it becomes. What's the point of just you and Nancy playing? Why not include me?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Willow Baker—the scantily dressed fake heiress and my half-sister—stepped out from the crowd and sat right on Michael's lap.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shot me a provocative look, taunting, "Nancy, you don't mind, do you?"

Willow was this brazen right in front of me, Michael's rightful fiancee, but he didn't mind. He even pinched her cheeks playfully and teased, "You're so cheeky, Willow.

"Your sister is a beginner. Are you really going to sit at the table and bully her too?"

Willow pouted, about to whine back.

I narrowed my eyes. Looking at Willow's profile, I realized she actually resembled me quite a bit.

Before she could get the words out, I said flatly, "It's fine. Whatever makes Willow happy. It's just one more person.

"Jerome, you can start now."

Michael paused for a moment, clearly finding my composure somewhat strange. Still, I didn't seem like someone who knew how to play.

He pushed down his suspicions and frowned as he patted Willow's waist.

"Alright, enough playing around. If you're going to play, go sit over there," he said to her.

Willow reluctantly got up and sat down in the seat beside Michael.

Then, a waiter quietly stepped forward and placed 30 million dollars' worth of chips before each of us. Willow's eyes lit up at the sight.

At the same time, Jerome took out a brand new deck of cards. He showed it, opened it, precisely picked out the 28 cards needed, and then began shuffling with dazzling speed.

When the sound of shuffling stopped, that was when the game officially began.

With deft flicks of his fingers, Jerome dealt the first face-down card to everyone.

Immediately after, the face-up cards followed. Michael had the six of hearts, Willow had the jack of diamonds, and I had the ace of spades.

Jerome glanced around and announced, "According to the rules of poker, the ace of spades is the highest card in this round. Ms. Jackson, you have the first move. Bet or fold?"

I nodded in acknowledgment, my fingers lingering over the chips.

However, I didn't push them forward right away. Instead, I let out a long sigh.

I looked at Michael with a hint of regret and said, "Mr. Shaw, you went to all this trouble to invite me to play. It would be too boring if we only bet money.

"How about we raise the stakes?"

Michael looked at me and sneered. His gaze seemed to say I was a fool who had gotten cocky and reckless with a good hand.

"Alright. Since you brought it up, go ahead. What stakes do you want to raise?" he asked.

I met his mocking gaze and tapped lightly on the ace of spades in front of me.

"For the new port project at Moria, Shaw Corp holds 5%, while Jackson Group holds 3%.

"I want to bet Jackson Group's 3% against Shaw Corp's 5%. How about it, Mr. Shaw?"

As soon as I finished speaking, the entire lounge erupted.

"Nancy has lost her mind! That's the new port and a strategic project! The Shaws, Jackson, and several other major families have spent a lot of money fighting over for years. And she's just betting it away like that?"

"No wonder Mr. Shaw doesn't want to marry her. How is there such an idiot in the Jackson family?"

Someone clicked their tongue. "Mr. Jackson Senior built this business with his life, but Nancy is betting it away like it's nothing. If I were him, I'd claw my way out of the grave and strangle her."

Michael clapped his hands, the crisp sound silencing the noisy crowd.

"Alright! Fine! Since Ms. Jackson is so 'courageous,' how could I refuse? I'll call!"

I nodded in satisfaction and slowly turned to look at Willow.

"Willow, Mr. Shaw has called. Will you?"

Willow bit her lip.

She was a fake heiress, and the Jackson family's fortune had nothing to do with her. Her father, Peter Baker, had married into our family, so what could she possibly bet with? The 30 million dollars in chips was already the most money she had ever seen.

She opened her mouth, then helplessly glanced at Michael for help.

Naturally, Michael didn't want his beloved Willow to suffer, so he immediately said, "Willow, go ahead and speak. Whatever you want to wager, I'll—"

"Be careful, Mr. Shaw!" I raised my tone abruptly, interrupting Michael with a cold stare. "This is a bet between us women. It's best you don't get involved."

After saying this, I looked down and slowly twisted the antique ring on my middle finger—the one that symbolized the Shaw family's fiancee.

I continued, "Don't worry, Willow. As your sister, I know you don't have those kinds of resources. You can't come up with an equal stake."

I paused, then slipped the ring off my finger. With a clack, I tossed it into the chip pool.

"How about this? I'll raise the stakes to include the position of the Shaws' daughter-in-law.

"I want you to bet that you'll publicly admit you aren't the Baker family's adopted daughter at all, let alone an heiress of the Jacksons. You're Peter Baker's illegitimate child, whom he had with the nanny while my mother was pregnant."

Shock rippled through the crowd.

Willow paled. Furious, she slammed the table and shouted at me, "That's nonsense! I'm my father's adopted daughter. You're just jealous that he favors me, so you're spouting nonsense!

"Michael, don't believe her! She's slandering me!"

Everyone in the room knew that what Michael hated most was the label of an "illegitimate child". Years ago, the sudden appearance of a half-brother had forced him to leave home for five years.

Michael nearly died overseas, but a mysterious mentor saved him, allowing him to return to the Shaws and reclaim everything.

Michael's face betrayed nothing. He simply hissed at the furious Willow, "Sit down."

Then he turned to look at me, his eyes carrying a warning. "I will thoroughly look into this matter."

I met Michael's gaze, seemingly unaffected by any pressure. I could even tilt my head and laugh lightly.

"Willow, it's just a bet. Calm down. If you don't dare to bet, you can always fold. Why get so angry and embarrass yourself?"

My casual tone only made Willow angrier.

She immediately snapped back, "Fine! Of course, I dare to bet with you! I'll call!"

After all three of us had placed our bets, Jerome continued to deal the third card.

The cards were soon revealed.

Willow got the jack of spades. Paired with her face-up jack of diamonds, she now had a pair of jacks, instantly putting her in the lead.

Michael got the eight of hearts, and when put together with his ten of hearts, he now had the potential for a straight flush.

As for me, I only got the three of diamonds. Combined with my ace of spades, my hand was a mess. Despite having the highest single card, my overall potential seemed far worse than theirs.

The game reversed itself in an instant.

Jerome gestured to Willow. "Among all face-up cards, the pair of jacks is currently the highest. Ms. Baker, you have the first move. Bet or fold?"

Willow's face immediately regained its color. She glanced at my pitiful card on the table and nearly laughed out loud.

She spoke up to humiliate me.

"An idiot will be an idiot. You got an ace at the start and thought you could win? No wonder Father doesn't like you."

She tilted her head back and glowered at me with malice. "Nancy, since you like raising the stakes so much, let's go all out.

"I'll bet everything I'm currently wearing against you. The loser strips and crawls around the entire lounge. Let's show everyone who you really are underneath all that!

"Do you dare call?"

Amid the burning stares of the crowd, I lowered my head and stayed silent. My shoulders trembled ever so slightly, and my face was deathly pale, as if I had been too humiliated to speak or was gripped with fear.

Michael had been watching my fragile state with a cold, detached gaze. But as the chandelier flickered, he suddenly found my lowered gaze strangely familiar.

His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help saying, "Nancy, if you fold now—and out of respect for Mr. Jackson Senior—I'll let go of the port's 3% stake.

"However, you must break off the engagement. You also have to grovel and apologize to Willow and me. Only then will I let this matter be."

With that, Michael leaned back in his chair, his tone condescending. "Nancy, you'd better think carefully before you speak."

The lounge fell silent. Everyone expected me to take the easy way out and agree to Michael's terms.

But Michael was mistaken.

My shoulders weren't trembling from fear or humiliation. It was from excitement.

I hadn't encountered an idiot like Willow in years—someone who would just put their fate in my hands.

I slowly raised my head. In my mind, I ran through all the possible outcomes of the game again, confirming the inevitable result.

Perfect. Everything was in order.

"I'll call!"

As soon as those words landed, everyone, including Michael and Willow, froze in shock.

Michael mocked bluntly, "Clueless idiot."

I paid him no mind, watching his dark expression and saying teasingly, "Mr. Shaw, I've already placed my bet.

"Since you want me to grovel and apologize, I'll bet on that. If I win, I want you to drop your whole 'devoted to my mentor' act as an excuse to look for pathetic substitutes like Willow.

"You're not repaying a debt. You're taking revenge!"

The moment I questioned his feelings for his "mentor", Michael flew into a rage.

His eyes were practically blazing as he snapped at me, "Shut up! What do you know? You don't understand my feelings for my mentor at all. You're an outsider. Who gave you the right to comment on it?"

Michael's chest heaved with anger, and he abandoned all restraint. His gaze darkened as he said, "Alright! Fine! Since you want to be humiliated, don't expect me to show any mercy!"

He spun around to face Jerome and spat out through gritted teeth, "Call! Give me the fourth card!"