Page 23 of Prized Possession

“Fine. If full consent is given by her, then that’s okay. Though I would prefer it if you didn’t go near her,” he grumbles.

“You can always back out of the bet,” I remind him, his eyes darken as he glares at me.

“You’ve got a deal. Draw the last card.”

Silence fills the room as we both wait for me to flip over the last card. Jake is leaning over the table, peering at the card as I turn it face up.

The river card is the Six of Hearts.

My heart stops, and I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Somehow, I manage to keep my expression neutral, crossing my fingers that I have enough to win.

Jake doesn’t hide his excitement, he lets out a loud, “Yes!”

He maintains eye contact with me as he slowly turns over the two cards in front of him, my heart racing a million miles a minute as I wait to see if I’ve won.

He turns over the Jack of Spades and the Jack of Clubs—giving him three of a kind. I can see why he looks so smug. Under most circumstances, it’s not a bad hand.

Without breaking the eye contact he started, I turn over the cards in front of me, one at a time. First the Four of Hearts, and then the King of Hearts. I place them alongside the Ace, Three, and Six of Hearts that are already on the table, making a flush. “I win.”

Jake’s gaze flicks down to the cards, and then back up at me, taking in the way my lip lifts into a smirk. I want to fucking grin and cheer, but I hold back, saving the celebration for later.

The gravity of the situation quickly hits Jake, and his face falls. His eyes widen and he turns pale. “My father is going to kill me. Chloe is going to kill me.”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell them tonight. I’ll come to the main house in the morning.” I try to keep my voice casual, but there’s a hint of excitement that I just can’t hide.

“Fuck! Can’t we play again? We can bet on something else?” he asks desperately, but I shake my head.

“Nope. This was the final game. All matters have been dealt with, the way it always is. You know the rules, Jake.”

“But this is going too far.” His voice takes on a high-pitched desperate edge, and I almost feel sorry for him. I do feel a bit of guilt at the way I manipulated him into this, but if my plan works, he’ll benefit from it in the end.

“Sorry, Jake. You know the rules. Once the game is over, the deals are final. I can be there when you tell your family though, if that helps.”

He nods his head, taking a big gulp and downing the last of his whiskey, like that wasn’t partly responsible for the mess he now finds himself in.

“Fine, I’ll call a family meeting for lunchtime tomorrow. We can tell them then,” Jake says with a huff.

“You should get some sleep and sober up before then. I’m guessing going into the meeting high as a kite or pissed will only make things worse for you,” I suggest, giving him some advice that I really hope he takes.

As we both stand and I head towards the door, Jake lets out a humourless laugh. “The only good thing about this is that I’ll get to watch Chloe murder you when she finds out you used her in a bet.”

My stomach drops as I imagine how angry she’ll be. She may have wanted my help, but I’m almost certain this isn’t the way she wanted me to do it.

Though, no matter how angry she is with me, I’m going to enjoy reminding her that she belongs to me. It may only be for sixty days right now, but if things go to plan, I’ll make her mine forever.

Iwake up to a note, summoning me to attend a family meeting at lunchtime. I’m fucking fuming that I’m being summoned like a pet, but that’s the story of my life—being given instructions that I blindly follow without question.

The longer I have to stew over the invitation—or demand, as that’s what it really is—the more confused I become. I rarely get invited to family meetings. Mostly they just tell me what's expected of me afterwards.

They usually catch me off guard over dinner, letting me know that my future was discussed at a meeting I wasn’t invited to, and decisions have been made that I’m just expected to go along with. That’s how I found out I was fucking engaged.

Just the word makes me nauseous, nevermind the giant fucking family heirloom engagement ring that’s sitting in the top drawer beside my bed. It’s not at all my style, but then again, I don’t think it was meant to be. The whole point is that you can see the rock from a mile away, and everyone will know who I belongto.

I’ve only met Scott Caprillo once, and that was the other day when I found out I was marrying him, and he gave me the ring that’s worth more than most people earn in a year. Besides that first moment when he slid it onto my finger, I’ve never worn it since.

I’ve been engaged for just a couple of days and my life feels like it’s spiralling worse than ever. And given the horrors of my past, that’s saying something.

I’ve spent the last two years trying to claw back some semblance of control in my life, and all my hard work has been undone in the blink of an eye. Even though I knew this day would come eventually, I was vastly under-prepared.

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