Chapter 3
Vivian rolled a nine—not exactly a high score.
But Edward, who went right after her, rolled a perfect twelve—crushed it with a clean sweep.
"Wow! You're awesome, honey!" Vivian whooped.
Everyone started hyping it up, making a big fuss.
Michael laughed and broke it down for everyone.
"With a clean sweep like that, you get to call dibs on any prize on the table," he announced.
Edward didn't even look at me. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Vivian, showing her off with a playful grin.
"Let my bride tonight pick whatever she wants. So, what'll it be, sweetheart?" he said, his tone dripping with affection.
Vivian scanned the table, then zeroed in on my wrist.
Her gaze settled on the simple platinum bracelet I had on.
"That bracelet of yours is kind of special, Natalie. Mind if I claim it for myself?" she said, her voice playful.
My hand holding the glass paused almost imperceptibly.
That bracelet was my grandma's keepsake—something I never let out of my sight, and Edward knew it well.
For a moment, silence settled over the table—until Vivian's voice pierced through it.
"What's wrong? Didn't you say anything could be a prize? Natalie, you're not gonna chicken out, are you? Or maybe... can't handle losing?" she teased, her voice dripping with mockery.
I was about to protest, but Edward coldly cut me off.
"Rules are rules. You lost fair and square, Natalie. Hand it over," he said, making it clear there was no room for argument.
My head jerked up. Heat rushed to my eyes, and I almost let the tears fall right there at the table.
I had endured every instance of his blatant favoritism toward Vivian all night, but this?
This was deliberate humiliation.
A flicker of irritation crossed Edward's face, yet his outstretched hand didn't waver.
Even Michael, sitting nearby, stiffened as he sensed the shift in the air.
Michael offered, his tone an awkward attempt at peacemaking, "It's just a bracelet, Vivian, I'll buy you a couple new ones tomorrow."
Vivian's expression cooled into something sharp and dismissive.
"We all agreed to the rules before we sat down. If you can't handle losing, you shouldn't have played."
Edward let out a short, derisive laugh. "Natalie, I told you to go home. You insisted on staying. Hand it over."
My fingers trembled. Swallowing the hot lump in my throat, I fumbled with the clasp and finally slid the bracelet off.
Edward snatched it without a glance and tossed it to Vivian.
She held it under the lamplight for only a moment before her lips twisted in a disdainful pout.
"Doesn't look like much now that I see it up close," she remarked, her voice dripping with casual cruelty.
She discarded it onto the table with a careless flick of her wrist.
Someone jostled the edge, and a nearby wineglass tipped, its crimson contents spilling directly over the abandoned jewelry.
My fist clenched under the table.
A boulder of hurt and anger settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Vivian teasingly urged, her voice sweet and a little bossy, cutting right through the awkward silence. "Don't just sit there staring—let's keep playing!" she cooed.
The game resumed. On the third round, my dice showed a middling seven.
Vivian rolled a nine. Edward, with a bitter twist of fate, got snake eyes—the lowest possible score.
Vivian giggled. "Darling, your luck is just awful tonight."
Ignoring her, Edward reached for his penalty shot.
But Vivian was faster. She leaned in, her hand closing over his around the glass, and drank it for him.
A playful wink followed. "What can I say? Tonight, we two are joined as one."
The surrounding cheers and whistles buzzed in my ears, the noise fading into a dull background hum.
A numb detachment was slowly wrapping itself around me.
Round after round, I skirted the edge of losing.
One by one, the shots of amber liquid burned their way down my throat, and piece by piece, my jewelry vanished from my wrists and neck, passing across the table to Vivian.
Even the new Chanel clutch I'd brought today ended up in her hands.
A warm flush crept up my cheeks, and the edges of the room began to soften.
My grip on the dice cup grew unsteady, a faint tremor betraying my state.
To anyone watching, I was simply another player riding a losing streak, too deep to quit.
Then it was Michael's turn as dealer. "Simple high-low is getting stale. This round, we bet on points. Think you can roll above an eight? The stakes double. And we need a real wager—something with bite."
Vivian didn't hesitate. "I'm in! I'll put up my West End boutique."
She owned several properties; this one was among the most valuable.
A ripple of excited murmurs went through the group. The game had just escalated.
Edward's gaze drifted to me, then away. His voice was calm when he spoke, "I'll see that. I'm putting up the yacht—the Edalina Star."
The Edalina Star. Worth millions.
But more than that, the name was a blend of both ours.
All the air seemed to leave the room. Every eye, heavy with expectation and curiosity, turned and settled on me.
The weight of their collective stare was a physical pressure, pinning me in my seat.