Chapter 2

The helicopter blades were making me dizzy.

I gripped the armrests tight, my white wedding dress bunched up in the cramped cabin. Tyler sat across from me, scrolling through his phone, completely ignoring me.

"Tyler, where exactly are we going?" I shouted over the engine noise.

He didn't even look up. "I told you, to see some friends."

"But why do we need a helicopter? Why are we going out so late?" My voice was shaking. 'I don't like this. This feels scary.'

Tyler finally glanced at me, his eyes ice-cold. "Emma, I'm only saying this once—shut up. When we get there, you stand there quietly, don't talk, don't ask questions. Got it?"

I nodded, even though my head was full of questions.

Through the tiny window, I could see nothing but black ocean below, with occasional dots of light. After what felt like forever, the helicopter started descending. I saw an island ahead, blazing with lights like a diamond floating on the water.

The helicopter landed on a helipad. Tyler jumped out first, then reluctantly offered his hand to help me. I gathered my wedding dress train carefully and walked toward the castle-like building ahead.

'This place is huge and fancy, but why does it feel so creepy?'

Two men in black suits stood at the entrance. They nodded and stepped aside when they saw Tyler. We walked into the main hall—all gold and crystal chandeliers, but hardly any people, and everyone spoke in hushed tones. The atmosphere felt oppressive.

"Tyler!"

A middle-aged man wearing a gold watch approached us, patting Tyler's shoulder. Then he looked at me, surprise flashing in his eyes.

"Whoa, Tyler brought his bride? Planning to play big tonight?"

Tyler smirked. "Cut the crap, Marcus. Is the table ready?"

"Of course. VIP room, Texas Hold'em, fifty-thousand buy-in." Marcus said, his gaze scanning me up and down. "But you sure about bringing her? This isn't exactly a proper gathering."

"She won't be a problem." Tyler grabbed my wrist—hard enough to hurt. "Let's go, Emma."

I was dragged through hallways to a room. Tyler pushed open the door to reveal a smoke-filled space with several men sitting around a circular table covered in chips.

"Gentlemen, Tyler Morrison has arrived," Marcus announced loudly.

The men at the table all turned to look at us. Their stares made me uncomfortable, like I was some kind of strange animal.

"This is his new bride?" A bald man whistled. "Coming to a casino in a wedding dress—that's a first."

"Morrison junior's so eager to come out and play. Guess the wedding night isn't going too well," another man sneered.

Tyler's face reddened, but he tried to stay composed.

He pushed me onto a couch in the corner. "Sit here. Don't move, don't talk."

I sat obediently, watching him walk to the table. The others made room for him as a waitress brought over chips. I counted six players total: Tyler, Marcus, the bald guy, two businessmen-looking middle-aged men.

The last player wore a blue delivery uniform, completely out of place in this luxury casino. He looked young, maybe thirty, handsome but with a very calm expression—totally different from the others' excitement.

'Why is a delivery guy sitting here gambling?'

"Alright, gentlemen, let's begin." The dealer started shuffling.

I couldn't understand the game, but I could feel the tension. Tyler kept checking his cards, sometimes frowning, sometimes forcing a casual laugh.

First hand—Tyler lost two hundred thousand.

"Tough luck, Tyler," Marcus offered fake sympathy.

"It's just getting started," Tyler said through gritted teeth, but I could see sweat forming on his forehead.

Second hand—lost another three hundred thousand.

Third hand—lost again.

I started worrying. I might not understand money well, but Tyler's increasingly tense expression told me things weren't going well.

"Morrison junior, maybe consider calling it a night?" The delivery guy spoke up, his voice pleasant. "Sometimes knowing when to stop is wisdom too."

"Shut up!" Tyler glared at him. "Ryan, you're just a delivery boy. What gives you the right to advise me?"

So his name was Ryan. 'He seems nice, not mean like the others.'

"Just trying to help," Ryan shrugged, still calm.

The others started mocking Tyler:

"Yeah Tyler, maybe time to go home for your bottle?"

"Morrison family's golden boy isn't all that."

"Why don't you let your wife try? Maybe idiots have beginner's luck."

Tyler's face turned bright red, fists clenched. "Again! I don't fucking believe this!"

He shoved all his remaining chips to the center. "All in!"

The dealer dealt cards. Tyler looked at his hand and his face went pale. But there was no turning back now.

When cards were revealed, Tyler had a weak pair while Ryan held pocket aces.

"Sorry," Ryan said quietly, pulling all the chips toward himself.

Tyler was completely cleaned out.

He sat there stunned, hands trembling. The room went quiet for a few seconds before Marcus spoke up:

"Tyler, want to keep playing? Though it looks like you're out of chips."

"I..." Tyler opened his mouth but couldn't speak.

"How about betting your wife?" the bald man suggested with a nasty grin. "She's just an idiot anyway—might as well help you get rid of the problem. Plus she's still a virgin, should be worth decent money, right?"

What?

I froze. 'What does "betting" mean?'

I secretly pulled out my phone and searched "gambling bet meaning." The explanation made my blood run cold:

"In gambling, to bet something means if you lose, you have to give up that thing."

'They want Tyler to bet me? If he loses, I would...'

Tyler was silent for exactly three seconds, then looked up with a cold glint in his eyes:

"Fine. I'll bet her. But she's worth serious money—at least ten million."

"You don't want me again!" I jumped up, tears streaming down my face. "Tyler, you don't want me again! Just like Dad said, nobody will ever want me, right?"

Everyone stared at me—some with pity, some with mockery, others with indifference.

But Ryan looked at me differently.

"I accept this bet," Ryan said.

The dealer shuffled again—this hand would decide my fate.

I couldn't watch, just closed my eyes and prayed. 'Whoever's up there, please let me meet someone kind. Please don't let me be a burden anymore...'

"Show your cards."

I opened my eyes to see Tyler's face white as paper, while Ryan remained calm as ever.

"Three kings," the dealer announced Ryan's hand.

"Pair of tens." Tyler's cards.

Ryan won.

He stood up and slowly walked toward me. I shrank back in fear, but he stopped in front of me and asked gently:

"Would you like to come with me?"

I looked into his eyes—no coldness like Tyler's, no contempt like the others', just a tenderness I'd never seen before.

"I..." my voice was tiny, "I don't know."

"That's okay," Ryan smiled at me. "You have the right to choose. This wasn't a real bet—nobody can gamble with another person's freedom."

Tyler shot to his feet. "What the hell does that mean? She lost to you!"

"You lost to me," Ryan turned to Tyler, his gaze suddenly sharp, "not her. And besides, Mr. Morrison, do you think this kind of transaction would hold up legally?"

Marcus and the others exchanged uncertain looks. The atmosphere grew tense.

Ryan looked back at me. "Emma, would you trust me just once? I promise I won't hurt you."

I don't know why, but looking into his sincere eyes, I nodded.

"Good." Ryan extended his hand. "Then let's go."

The moment I placed my hand in his, I felt a safety I'd never experienced before.

I didn't know what awaited me, but at least I wasn't a burden being used as a poker chip anymore.