Romances de heritagejoyce128

“She's already mine.”Those words kept replaying over and over again in my head. I turned to look at Kai who had a sinister smile on his face. I could tell that there was something much more going on.Derek snatched the contract from me, his jaw clenched as he read through it. “T—This is bullshit. This wasn't supposed to happen,” he argued, his voice edged with sharpness.Kai just smirked, taking his position back on his chair. The way he looked like he towered over us and could destroy us in seconds. I knew he could. But he just looked more intimidating.“You can't do this,” Derek yelled. “She doesn't in any way belong to you and you know that. This contract is a sham and I won't let you take her away from me.”He grabbed my hand harshly. “She's coming with me, and there's nothing you can do to take her away from me.”He sounded so determined that I almost fell for his words all over again. Kai shot me a look, snapping me back to reality.I tried wriggling from my grip. “You can't te

"Russian roulette? Derek, tell me you're joking."Derek stared at his phone screen like it might change if he looked hard enough. "That's what it says. 'The game has changed. Russian roulette. One bullet, one chance.'"My knees gave out. I grabbed the nearest marble pillar in the lobby to keep from falling. "He's going to kill you.""Maybe it's a metaphor." Derek's voice cracked. "Like, you know, one shot at winning?""With a gun, Derek! Russian roulette is played with an actual gun!"People in expensive suits walked past us, their heels clicking on the marble floor. None of them looked at the desperate couple having a breakdown in the lobby. This was probably normal for them.Derek's phone buzzed again. He read the new message and his face went from white to green."What now?""He says... he says it's not what I think. It's still poker, but the stakes are different." Derek scrolled through the message. "One hand. If I win, we go free. If I lose...""If you lose, what?"Derek couldn't

"A poker game?" My voice came out higher than I intended. "You want to settle a three-million-dollar debt with cards?"Mr. Zhang's smile widened. "Not just any cards, Mrs. Martinez. One hand. Five-card stud. Derek's debt against something of equal value.""But we don't have anything worth—" I stopped mid-sentence as Derek's grip on my hand tightened painfully."Actually, you do." Mr. Zhang opened the thick folder and pulled out several documents. "Your trust fund, Mrs. Martinez. Currently valued at approximately four million dollars."My blood turned to ice. "How do you know about that?""I make it my business to know about my employees' assets. Especially when they owe me money."Derek finally found his voice. "Chloe's trust fund is locked until she's thirty. We can't touch it.""Not you, perhaps. But with the right legal documents..." Mr. Zhang spread papers across his desk like he was dealing cards. "Power of attorney. Collateral agreements. All perfectly legal."I stood up so fast

"What does your boss want with me?"Derek was sitting on the edge of our bed, staring at his phone like it might explode. The morning light made his black eye look worse than it had in the hospital."I don't know." His voice came out scratchy. "Maybe he just wants to meet you. You know, like a normal boss.""Normal bosses don't text at six in the morning asking employees to bring their wives."Derek stood up too fast and winced. "Look, Mr. Zhang is... particular about these things. He likes to know the families of his workers. It's probably nothing.""Derek." I grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past me. "How much do you owe him?""Owe him?" Derek laughed, but it sounded forced. "I don't owe him anything. He's my boss, not my bookie.""Then why were you gambling at his casino?""It wasn't gambling. It was networking. Big difference."I wanted to scream. Three years of marriage and Derek still thought I was stupid enough to believe his lies. But screaming wouldn't get me answers. It w

"Chloe, you need to find a real job. This waitressing thing isn't working."I looked up from my math homework spread across our tiny kitchen table. Derek stood in the doorway wearing his lucky poker shirt - the faded blue one with holes in the sleeves. He only wore it when he planned to gamble."I have a real job," I said. "Two of them, actually.""Part-time jobs don't count." Derek grabbed his wallet from the counter. "We need serious money. Like, now."I watched him count the bills inside. Twenty-three dollars. That was all we had until my next paycheck on Friday. It was Tuesday."Where are you going?" I asked, though I already knew."Out with the guys from work. Networking." Derek avoided my eyes. "Might be late.""Derek, we can't afford—""Can't afford what? A few drinks with potential business contacts?" His voice got that sharp edge it always had when I questioned his spending. "Some of us are trying to build a future here."I bit back my response. Fighting never helped. Derek w