Crapter 49

After my friend Josh Yates fell deep into gambling, he showed up one day wearing a wide, excited grin, insisting on taking me to Macoria. "I just won big," he said. "My treat. We're staying at the most luxurious hotel." However, the moment we landed, he led me straight into a private room buried deep inside a casino. "The truth is, I lost 7.5 million," he admitted. "If I can't pay it back, they'll sell me off to the Mykar Borderlands… "However, the woman who runs this place is looking for a man with a crescent-shaped birthmark. If they find him, all debts are wiped clean. "You've got one on your stomach. I saw it when you were showering. I'm sorry, man… I really don't want to die." Four men pinned me down on a sofa. That was when I noticed a child's drawing hanging on the wall. I had made it for my mother before I was taken from her. She cherished it, said she would keep it for the rest of her life. An icy smile tugged at my lips. Josh, Josh… this time, you really did place the right bet, I thought. Too bad the winner would not be you.

I was the only female carpenter in town, and I made caskets at cost price for anyone in the area who needed one. Everyone said I was generous, kind-hearted, the whole routine. Then one afternoon, Doug Hadley showed up at my shop with his wife Trish Grady and a handful of neighbors to order a cremation urn. Trish stared at the price tag. "An urn for only 50 dollars? What is this, scrap wood?" Doug shot her a look. "Don't run your mouth about things you don't understand. It's solid ebony. Bridget makes them herself, so it's cheaper." Trish snickered behind her hand. "Solid ebony? That might fool someone who doesn't know any better. My cousin runs a funeral supply shop, so trust me, I know what I'm looking at. This isn't ebony. It's plywood. It's five dollars' worth of material, tops. "I can take you all to my cousin's place. I'll make sure he gives us a deal." The neighbors were already nodding. "The urn's supposed to last a hundred years. Obviously, I want the best for my mom." "Selling plywood and calling it ebony... You ought to be ashamed." "Come on, let's all go to Trish's cousin. I'm not giving her the chance to make dirty money off any of us." Dirty money? As far as I knew, mine was the only shop in town that actually stocked real ebony. Everyone else used MDF. If they were not afraid of the thing falling apart, they were welcome to go for it.

I won $30 million in the lottery. I quietly told my mom, Helena Nightfall, and urged her to divorce my abusive, gambling-addicted dad, Victor Nightfall. From then on, I would take care of her and give her a life of luxury. She agreed without hesitation, then turned around and told him everything. Dad came to my door and demanded the money. When I refused, he beat me mercilessly. In the end, it was my lovesick mother who searched my room, found my debit card, and took every cent I had. Dad squandered my money on a life of excess. Not only did he kick Mom to the curb and find himself a new woman, but he even handed out my winnings generously to relatives back in our hometown. They lived it up on my money while I—the one who had won the lottery—didn’t receive a single cent. Unwilling to accept it, I went to confront Dad and demand my money back. By sheer coincidence, I ran into debt collectors who were after Dad. Dad shoved me out the door and left me to be stabbed to death by his creditors. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I first discovered I had won the lottery.

Cupid shot me in my leg… and I tripped and fell on my face. 🦋 CATALINA 🦋 Was told to run and never look back when love finds me. I dared to ask what happens if I don’t. “Blood will follow your every step.” She said. So I tried to run, but Corvin chased me down! Now, I’m stuck with a murderer, thief, psychopath, sex addict, smoker, a manipulator, and a vampire, and I’m screwed. Yet, he isn’t my only problem. There’s one other person like him lurking in the shadow, an extremely handsome unpredictable stepbrother I had to leave home to escape from, a professor who acts like I’m an enemy who stole something precious from him in our past life, a top in the class genius who basically follows me around like a puppy, a school bully who makes my life unbearable for entirely no reason and a creepy neighbor who I feel like is stalking every fucking step I take. All I can say is they are not all humans; some are werewolves, some are vampires, and some are just terrible, unpredictable humans. Stranded in an Oscar winning dangerous city and a school with zero rules, all because of Cupid’s Darn Curse. Trigger warning: Jsyk, this book may be triggering, concerning, and thought-provoking. It’s a very complicated one; it’s dark, heartless, and unforgiving. So this novel might come across as raw and electrifying. If you decide to continue, know that I love you and truly appreciate your support. Now, please leave your integrity just around the corner so you can pick it up later, and let’s get naughty. “This is so much fun!” in Yumeko’s voice.

My brother-in-law, Timmy Lynch, racks up 50 million dollars of illegal gambling debt but leaves my contact information behind. By the time the interest snowballs to 100 million dollars, the debt collectors show up at my doorstep. After I persuade them to leave, my wife, Celia Lynch, and my mother-in-law, Meryl Unwin, finally come out of the room. Celia's face is pale as she says, "Let's get divorced. I'd rather leave with nothing. Your gambling debts are your own problem, so don't even think about dragging me into this." No matter how many times I explain that it was Timmy who bet on an underdog team and lost, she refuses to believe me. Meryl even slaps me across the face and roars, "Not only are you trying to trick my daughter into paying your debt, but you're also slandering my son? Listen to me, Celia—divorce him immediately!" Then, she turns to me and says, "I might as well tell you the truth now. Celia is pregnant, and the baby's father is your buddy. Just give up already and sign the divorce papers." Wait, what? I literally just won a 100-million-dollar prize from winning a World Soccer Tournament bet last night. I was going to ask if they need help covering Timmy's debt. How did this suddenly turn into a full-on divorce? Fine, then. They can pay back his massive debt themselves.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'