CHAPTER ONE

"I’ll raise you two hundred... and my wife."

Silence.

My heart dropped.

I turned slowly toward Derek, wondering if I’d heard him wrong. Maybe the champagne had gone to my head. 

Because there was no way he said what I just thought I heard.

But no. He was leaning forward with his usual reckless smirk, fingers twitching over a mountain of poker chips, like he hadn't just thrown me into the pot like an old coin.

“What the hell did you just say?” My voice came out calm—too calm for the storm crashing through my chest.

A few men chuckled, but I could hear the awkwardness in their chuckles.

Hello the whole air was now filled with tension as every eyes around the table turned to us.

“Relax, babe.” Derek waved a dismissive hand without even glancing at me. “It’s just a figure of speech. You know how poker talk works—people bet houses, cars, islands. Just keeping the mood fun.”

Fun.

I walked around the edge of the velvet poker table and stood directly behind him, and I curled my hands into a fist to resist the urge to slap the back of his smug head.

“Tell me you didn’t just wager me, Derek.”

He still didn’t look at me. “Sophia, don’t make a scene. These men are serious players.”

“Serious players?” I laughed, but it was just a bitter sound. “You just used your wife to impress a room full of overcompensating millionaires?”

A low chuckle came from across the table, and I looked at the direction it came from - my stomach turning the moment I saw who it was.

Him.

The man who had been watching us from the moment we walked in—eyes like polished glass, cold and unreadable, fixed on me like I was something rare and interesting. Not in a sleazy, undressing-me-with-his-eyes way. It was worse. He looked at me like I was already his.

I should’ve known he was the most dangerous man in the room.

Alexander Hawke. I’d heard the name before. Even whispered, it carried weight.

He was the kind of man you only saw from a distance. In magazines, in whispers at charity galas, or standing in the background of powerful rooms where decisions were made without words. Sharp-jawed, dark-haired, and cruelly composed. Everything about him was precise—his three-piece suit, his stillness, his gaze.

And that gaze was all over me.

“Your husband just made a deal, Mrs. Mitchell,” Alexander said, voice smooth like an expensive bourbon. “It would be rude not to follow through.”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” I snapped, “besides I'm sure Derek was just fooling around.”

I hoped he was just fooling around. Alexander's eyebrow arched in a way that told me he didn't believe the bullshit I was telling myself.

I guess we all know Derek - he never fools around when it comes to gambling.

Derek would wager anything but he wouldn't go that far to involve me - would he?

“I'm not joking,” Derek said with laughter in his voice and my gaze snapped back to him.

“You must be joking actually because you doug mean this.”

Derek finally turned, his expression pinched and sweat-slick. “Soph, don’t overreact—”

“Overreact?” My voice rose. “You just sold me.”

“It’s just one night,” he hissed under his breath. “Do you want them to see you like this?”

“I’m your wife, not a bargaining chip.”

“No one said anything about—”

“Derek,” Alexander interrupted, tone cool and bored, “I don’t do one-night stands. If I win, she stays with me. A week.”

I stared at him.

A week?

“You’re out of your mind,” I whispered.

He didn’t flinch. “Call it what you want. But if I win, she’s mine.”

The way he said it—low and certain—sent a shiver down my spine.

Derek hesitated. Then reached for his cards.

“Derek, don’t you dare,” I said, voice shaking now.

“I have a good hand, Soph,” he muttered, desperation bleeding through. “You don’t understand. I’m already under. If I fold now—”

“Fold.”

“I can’t—”

“Fold. The. Damn. Cards.”

He didn’t. Instead, he laid them down with a nervous flourish.

Two pair.

I could see it before the dealer even moved. A desperate man’s final hope.

Alexander didn’t even blink.

He laid down his cards with precision, like he already knew what they were. Like the universe bent to his will.

Royal flush.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Derek slumped back, face pale, shoulders sinking. The weight of his stupidity finally hit him.

The dealer cleared the table. A few of the other men mumbled and stood to leave.

But I just stood there, frozen.

What on earth just happened?

I looked at Derek who also looked as shocked as I felt - had was just gazing at the table, sweat dripping down his folded forehead

Was he just realising what he just did?

Was he realising finally that he just wagered his wife like some damn property off to a stranger?

A sharp pain twisted my heart, making it almost difficult to breathe.

Then Alexander stood, straightened the cuffs of his jacket, and adjusted his watch like this was just another Tuesday.

“Have her sent to my penthouse by midnight,” he said without even looking at me.

“No.” I stepped in front of him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He finally looked at me. Fully. Slowly. Like I was something worth studying.

“Your husband made a deal,” he said, voice quiet but firm. “He wagered something he didn’t deserve to have in the first place.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m always serious.”

“Then you’re insane.”

His eyes flicked to the diamond ring on my finger. “You said ‘I do.’ But tell me, Sophia… when’s the last time he treated you like you mattered?”

That hit something. Hard. But I wasn’t going to let him see it.

“This is illegal,” I said, grasping for something solid. “I’m not a damn property you two can just wave around a gambling table. So if you think for a moment that I'm going anywhere with you - then you must be very dumb.”

He stepped closer, invading my space and my knees buckled slightly.

He wasn’t touching me. But I could have sworn that the heat between us crackled.

“You can walk out of here,” he murmured, “but I promise you—Derek will pay in blood and prison time. And you, Sophia? You’ll still be left cleaning up his mess.”

I clenched my fists.

He leaned in closer, his voice a whisper against my skin.

“Come with me… and I’ll give you the week of your life.”

“You, Mr man are a royal bastard - so over my fucking dead body!”

I spun on my heel facing Derek who averted his gaze immediately to avoid meeting mine.

My head was still spinning from everything that just happened and I still couldn't believe it.

“You should be ashamed. Both of you!” I spat and walked out.

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