"300 thousand dollars," Owen said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Are you in or not?"

By then, we had already drawn the attention of the older members of the family.

My uncle, Peter Thompson, saw what was happening and panicked. He snapped at Owen, "Have you lost your mind? That money is set aside for the holidays! Are you seriously putting it on the table?"

Yet, Owen sat down with a grin, utterly unconcerned. "Don't worry. I can afford to play. The real question is… Can he?"

I immediately understood what he was up to.

In three-card brag, there was a cap to keep things from getting out of hand. But when the game started, Owen had shown off, insisting there be no limit. He meant to keep raising the stakes higher and higher until I couldn't keep up and lost everything.

Sure enough, he taunted, "Don't tell me you can't come up with the cash. Even if you can't, everything you've already bet stays on the table."

Uncle Peter caught on right away. This time, he didn't even bother hiding his amusement. He chuckled and turned back to his game of rummy, not sparing me another glance.

I clenched my fists and said nothing. There was no way I could come up with 300 thousand dollars in cash.

Out of nowhere, Amelia spoke up. "It's fine. We'll put the house on the line."

In an instant, every head in the room snapped toward her. Uncle Peter froze. A cigarette hung from his lips while his hand hovered over the cards.

Owen, on the other hand, stared at us blankly, his expression caught between anger and unease. Both of them were trembling slightly.

At that point, even the older relatives stopped playing. They quickly gathered around us, saying the stakes had gotten too high.

Panicked, my dad rushed over and slammed his fist into my shoulder. He shouted, "Have you lost your mind? Are you trying to bankrupt this family?"

As he yelled, he tried to see my cards. But I held them down tightly and refused to let him.

Those who knew the game understood that a person should never show their cards to anyone. Their reactions could give everything away.

I had three kings, and only three aces could beat that hand.

Owen was the one who started all of this. Every seasoned player knew what a hand like this meant—either I walked away with nothing, or blood would spill.

Amelia looked at Owen, calm and steady. "Our house is worth 500 thousand dollars. That's 200 thousand dollars more than what you've bet. Are you in or not?"

"Have all of you lost your minds?" Uncle Peter roared.

He lunged across the table, trying to shove our chips back. Then, he barked at me, "Don't provoke Owen! He's a big-time businessman and doesn't want to hold it against you!

"Apologize to him now! Do you not want him to help you get ahead someday?"

Without missing a beat, I grabbed him and snarled, "Put it all down!"

Uncle Peter hadn't expected me to snap at him like that. He flinched, and a shudder ran through him.

Through clenched teeth, I hissed, "When he was betting 500 dollars a hand, none of you said a word! When he was bragging at the dinner table, you had my dad light his cigarette for him. He was the one who threw his car keys in first. I'm seeing this all the way through!"

Uncle Peter stared at me, stunned. Then, he snapped, "How dare you speak to your elders like that!"

I looked at Owen, my voice icy as I said, "You've got two choices. Either you put in another 200 thousand dollars, and we show our cards, or you walk away and forfeit everything you've bet.

"There's also a third option. We call the whole thing off, and everyone takes their bets back. But you must apologize to my dad."

The room fell silent at once.

Everyone had seen it earlier—how Owen held his cigarette between two fingers and let Dad light it for him. Yet, at the time, no one spoke up.

In fact, I'd noticed the look on Uncle Peter's face. He'd been almost smug about it.

Just then, Owen let out a bitter laugh. "You've got a lot of nerve, huh? Acting like this in front of the whole family."

I shook my head. "The second you put your car keys on the table, we weren't family anymore."

Owen fell silent for a beat, then let out a cold laugh. "Fine. Don't blame me for pushing you then. You're the one who wanted to stay in, right?"

Just then, he picked up his cards and flipped two toward me. It was a pair of queens.

As soon as I saw them, a wave of relief washed over me. Still, my expression remained tight.

Owen tilted his chin up and said smugly, "So… What do you think? Did I hit three of a kind?"

In three-card brag, deliberately showing part of a hand like that was common. It was meant to rattle the other player and read their reaction.

But Owen couldn't scare me. Even if he really had three of a kind, it still wouldn't beat mine.

I had been worried that he might be holding three aces. Now, it was clear that fear had been pointless. That cocky stunt of his had only driven him into a dead end.

Even though I was completely at ease, I gritted my teeth and said, "You're bluffing. Are you in or out?"

Owen stared into my eyes, as if trying to read my mind. In this game, it was all about nerve and performance.

Even at that point, he still couldn't decide. Uncle Peter interjected, "Don't do it! He's obviously not scared of your hand! Can't you tell?"

"If I fold, I lose the BMW and the 300 thousand dollars I already put in! He's bluffing!" Owen snapped, his features twisting with rage.

Normally, the relatives would all be talking at once, throwing out advice from every direction. But now, no one dared say a word. Until the cards were revealed, there was no telling what was real and what wasn't.

Owen nervously scanned the faces around the table. Every bet had been his idea. If he backed out now, he'd never live it down in front of the family.

At last, he waved his wife, Kylie Reed, over. "Come here."

She reluctantly walked over to the table. Then, he told her to place her gold jewelry on the table. Hers was worth far more than Amelia's, after all.

But unlike Amelia, Kylie refused to take hers off. Owen immediately grew tense and showed her his cards.

The moment she saw them, her face lit up with joy. She hurriedly stripped off all her gold jewelry and set it on the table.

"Come on, let's take this all the way," she said with a grin. "Don't come crying when you lose. Everyone here is a witness. Anyone who backs out deserves what's coming to them."

"So, are you saying we should reveal our cards?" I asked.

Kylie shot back, "Why should we? We're taking this all the way."

The greed on her face was unmistakable. However, no one had any chips left.

Suddenly, Kylie pulled off her diamond ring and set it on the table. "This ring cost me 50 thousand dollars."

I shook my head. "I'm not taking the ring. That thing's worth 100 dollars at most."

"What the hell are you saying?" Kylie snapped as she jabbed a finger at me. "Do you even know what this is? This is designer!"

A wry smile tugged at my lips. "I don't care what it is. To me, it's worth 100 dollars."

Kylie was about to retort when Owen cut in, "Then, I'll put my house on the line too."

In an instant, a gasp rippled through the room, and Uncle Peter jumped to his feet. "Have you lost your mind? That house is located downtown! It's worth one and a half million dollars!"

"I'm not messing around, Dad," Owen replied with a sneer. "Whatever I put in, he has to match. That's the rule. Every bet has to top the last one.

"So, Ethan, do you have the money to keep up?"

I fell silent. There was no way I could come up with that much money.

Owen saw through me instantly. He burst out laughing and gave my shoulder a slap. "There are things you just can't afford to play with. Truth is, I'm picking on you because your stack's small.

"And what are you going to do about it? I can come up with this kind of money easily, but even if you put your life on the line, you couldn't scrape together that amount."

Kylie sneered. "So, are you in or out? If you're not showing your hand, we'll take that as a fold."

That was the gap between the rich and the poor. The wealthy could casually toss in what a poorer man couldn't scrape together, even if he risked everything. Every call became heavier and more suffocating.

Just like Owen said, he was pushing me around because I had no money.

I glanced nervously at Amelia and Dad.

At that point, Dad's face had gone pale. He couldn't understand how a simple game had spiraled this far out of control.

Right then, Amelia spoke up. "My parents left me a house. It's not in the city, but it's still worth 500 thousand dollars."

I grabbed her hand at once, my voice shaking with urgency. "No! I bought our house and the gold jewelry. If I lose it all, we'll break up.

"You won't get dragged into it. But if you stake your family's assets on my hand and I lose, I'll bankrupt them!"

Amelia replied coldly, "We're not backing down. If we do, we'll never stand tall again. I trust that you wouldn't do this unless you were sure."

I trembled uncontrollably, but with joy. I knew I was going to win. All of this was just an act meant to make Owen think I was nervous, too.

But from Amelia's side, it was different. She had no idea what I was holding, and still, she was willing to stake everything on me.

"Not all houses are equal," Owen said, his tone dripping with mockery. "You're still one million dollars short. How do you plan to make that up?

"If you can't, then get the hell away from the table. Stop whining like sore losers!"

I took a deep breath before saying, "The neighborhood back home is getting redeveloped. There are four of us—my parents, Amelia, and me. Every dollar of our payout is yours."

At that, Kylie covered her mouth and chuckled.

"What, you think this is some booming city? This is just a rundown rural area. Four of you would only get 600 thousand dollars, so you're still 400 thousand dollars short."

Then, she turned to Owen and added, "I'm not trying to insult your relatives, but look at him—scraping and clawing together every last dollar. Is he even going to come up with it?"

"The way you're scrambling to piece together this bet is pathetic and embarrassing. Sometimes, respect is given to you. Other times, you're the one who loses it yourself. If you can't cover the bet, just fold," Owen said flatly.

Seeing that I couldn't come up with the money, Uncle Peter let out a breath of relief.

A beat later, he turned to Dad and snapped, "Your son doesn't know his place! Now look. He can't even keep up. Everything he's already put in is gone!"

Dad stood rooted to the spot, his face ashen. He swallowed hard and turned to me. "What were you thinking? What else are you going to put up? You've gambled away everything our family has!"

Yet, I said nothing and tapped away on my phone, taking out every online loan I could get.

Once I was done, I set the phone down in front of Owen. The available funds shown on the screen were 400 thousand dollars.

He froze for a second. "How do you have that kind of credit?"

"I borrowed from eight different lenders and used my car as collateral for all of them."

Initially, I'd planned to take out loans for my wedding. I had applied everywhere to compare the interest rates, building up credit lines with each one.

I hadn't expected it to come in handy like this.

Owen let out an exasperated laugh. Then, he pulled out a cigarette and held it between his teeth. "You've really outdone yourself. Taking out online loans just to gamble with me. You know that if you can't pay that back, it's over for you, right?"