Chapter 3

Mike straightens, dice crumbs still at the corner of his mouth, eyes full of horror. "Leah, I'm your BROTHER! And you're defending this punk！"

"You stole his money and hit him, and YOU'RE the victim?"

Mike's face goes greenish. His fists crack. He looks at me, then at Leah shielding me, and suddenly smiles. That smile is a viper's tongue.

"Fine. Real fine." He reaches to poke Leah when a group bursts through the door.

"MIKE PETERSON! Where the hell are you hiding?! Get out here and PAY UP!"

Mike immediately shrinks behind the bar, praying hands toward Leah.

I comes following Leah out from behind the counter. A group of thug-looking men faces us. I instinctively pull Leah behind me.

"Who are you?"

The leader is young, well-dressed, a playful smirk on his lips. Behind him, a tall thin man toys with a deck of cards. The shuffling sounds like a snake hissing.

"Who are we?" The leader snorts. "Damn, that's the funniest thing I've heard all week."

Leah tugs my sleeve, voice trembling. "That's Lucas Marsh! His father is the biggest crime boss in this district. We can't mess with him."

Lucas slaps a contract on the table. "Your brother owes us over a hundred grand. Today he pays, or he dies."

"A hundred thousand? Didn't we just pay off his debt months ago?" Leah's hands shake as she picks up the contract.

"Yeah, well, the idiot went straight back to the tables." Lucas smirks. "Told you. A gambling dog can't be saved. Debts must be paid. You still have this dump of a bar, right? Sell it to me. Might cover a fraction."

"But this is our last property! Without it, we have nowhere to live!"

Lucas shrugs, swaggering toward Leah. One hand tilts her chin up. "Can't sell the bar? Sell yourself then. With that face, working as my club's top girl, you'd make a fortune！"

I clamp his wrist. "Watch your hands."

Lucas jerks back, stumbling, face darkening.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

He turns to Leah, voice sliding over her skin like a snake. "Listen here, you little bitch. This land has already been targeted by John Miller! Even if you don't mortgage it to me, you'll lose it sooner or later! And with my father's connection to Miller, you won't see a SINGLE DIME when that happens!"

John Miller.

That name is a burning needle stabbing into my temple. Head splitting. Images surging！

A suited man grabbing my right wrist, twisting hard.

"Say goodbye to your 'gambling god life,' bro!"

I shake my head violently, trying to drive out the visions.

Mike tries to sneak away from behind the bar, but two sharp-eyed thugs spot him, dragging him before Lucas.

"Please, Lucas! Give me a few more days, I swear I'll pay!"

Lucas sneers, nodding to his men. One kicks Mike's leg, dropping him to his knees. Another flick opens a switchblade. CLICK！the blade extends. Cold steel presses against Mike's fingers.

"Sorry, kid. The boss needs money NOW. So every minute you waste, I cut off one finger."

Mike's eyes dart around frantically. Then they fix the dice and cards on the bar.

"WAIT! WAIT! Give me one more chance！"

"Chance?" Lucas leans down. "You already burned my last shred of trust when you ran last time!"

Mike's gaze suddenly locks, like a drowning man grabbing his final straw. He looks at Leah. His lips tremble. He says something that freezes my blood:

"Lucas, I'll bet my SISTER to you! Didn't you say she could be a stripper?"

Leah stands frozen. Her eyes fill with shock and disbelief.

"BROTHER! WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!"

"Mike, you COWARD!"

Lucas SLAMS the table, laughing wild and triumphant. "DEAL! It's SETTLED!"