Dowry Denied, Destiny Rewritten

The air in the Las Vegas hotel choked with stale champagne and failure.

My fiancé, Mark, slumped at the poker table, surrounded by his smirking cousins, Kevin and Brian.

A fortune in chips piled before them. Mark' s pile was empty.

My heart sank when Kevin announced the amount: "One hundred and eighty thousand dollars."

That was my dowry, a fund for our future, our new home.

Mark' s mother, Brenda, cornered me, her voice sharp. "You need to fix this, Sarah. It' s a family debt. You have the money. Pay it."

My blood ran cold. She wanted my dowry to cover a reckless gambling debt.