The Bet That Ruined Us Novels & Stories

After we made love, Damon pulled me into his arms and opened WhatsApp. A message from Serena popped up, along with a revealing mirror selfie. "Damon, we had a deal. Once she's slept with you, you're in my bed for the next month." I turned my head, stunned. He kissed my cheek absentmindedly. "Serena and I bet on whether you'd sleep with me today. Looks like I lost. "Let's take some time apart. In a month, I promise you a grand wedding." I looked at him, keeping my face calm despite the cruel joke. On the day I moved out, Damon blocked the villa's front door, frowning. "Layla, it's just a bet between Serena and me. Don't throw a tantrum." I didn't answer. I picked up my suitcase and left witho

At my pre-wedding blowout, my sister Julia Gallo suddenly challenged my fiancé Lorenzo, heir to the next Don of the Bianchi family, to a "big bet." "Let me guess how many candies you've got in your hand." "Guess right, and whatever my forfeit is, you do it." "Guess wrong, and you're covering all the leftover booze." "I'm guessing... five." She said. Lorenzo opened his right hand. Three. Julia tipped her head back to down the rest of the wine. But then— "You win." Lorenzo pulled his left hand from his pocket. "There are two more. Right here." Julia smiled at him. But tears shimmered in her eyes. She unfolded the note she'd written in advance. "Then I'm sorry. I didn't think I'd actually guess

My grandfather, Daniel Collins, is a thief. He steals my grandmother's name, Elise Caldwell, along with her identity as a volunteer from the city. Then he uses it to escape from the remote backcountry with another woman. Years later, he becomes a law professor, standing at the front of a classroom and lecturing his students about justice. The woman he runs away with becomes a renowned painter, appearing on television to speak about integrity, morality, and principles. Meanwhile, my grandmother is left behind in that remote backcountry for the rest of her life. Everyone around her brands her a "slut" and shames her for something she has never done. She dies without ever reclaiming her n

“You don’t get to play the moral card, Dominic. Not when you’re the one breaking every rule you ever set.” “Leave Naomi out of this.” “Too late. She’s already in it. And she’s the best leverage I’ve had in a long time.” I heard footsteps. Dominic’s voice gradually became lower. “If you send those photos to Chloe, I will ruin you. Not in private. Publicly. Every debt. Every deal you’ve tried to hide. I’ll put it all in the open.” Julian was quiet for a second. Then he spoke again. “You really think you’re the only one with proof?”

"Wyatt, are you seriously yelling at me for her right now? Don't forget, the only reason you even chased after her and threw that stupid romantic confession was because you lost a bet to me!" Boom. It felt like something completely shattered inside my brain. "Shut up! We never talk about that!" Wyatt growled, cutting her off. "Relax," Harper purred smoothly. "You ended up catching real feelings anyway. She got lucky. Originally, you were just going to pay her off and get rid of her. She should be thanking me that she's getting to be Luna at all!" I couldn't listen to another word. So the gentleness and care of the past three years... all of it was just a sick bet.

"You all right?" I nodded, though my heart was beating far too quickly. It wasn't because of Victoria, but because his hand was still resting against my waist, leaving me unsure whether he realized just how intimate the gesture really felt. Dinner began shortly afterward, with me seated beside Desmond while Evelyn occupied the head of the long table. For nearly an hour, the conversation remained painfully polite, bouncing between business, politics, charity, and market movements, everything except my wedding scandal. Then Evelyn placed her glass down, setting the room on edge. "The media believes Walton Global exploited Cleopatra’s personal tragedy. That perception is damaging our company."

"I'm going to do nothing. I lost the bet. I'm going to eat ramen for a month, I'm going to finish the Nissan, and I'm never going to see him again." Her phone buzzed on the table. All three of them looked at it. A text. Unknown number. *I paid off your bet.* Dani stared at it. She grabbed the phone. *i don't want your money* *too late. talked to Curtis, covered your side bets, told him it was a driver courtesy thing. nobody knows it was me except you.* *i didn't ask you to* *i know. i wanted to.* She set the phone down. Picked it up again. Typed: *why*

Ever since my best friend, Aurelia Westbrook, moved in next door, my boyfriend, Xavier Whitmore, couldn’t stop complaining about her. “She’s so completely useless,” he’d scoff. “If she doesn’t know how to cook, she should just order takeout. If she can’t figure out the washing machine, she should take her clothes to the dry cleaner. Why does she have to keep bothering you all the time?” I smiled and tried to explain. “Aurelia’s family went bankrupt. Her mother had to let all the household staff go. Normally, she doesn’t know how to do these things yet.” Xavier still wasn’t convinced. He started making bets with me every single day. “I bet that woman cuts her finger trying to cook again.”

I think I am a loser; I am a loser for taking the stupid bet to hurt someone I am falling in love with? Why did I talk myself into this mess? I should have stopped them and told them no, this isn’t right. But no, I didn’t want them to think I was a wimp and coward. But now, I am thinking back on the day when I overheard them talking about a bet. I could not help but tell them I am going to do it too. I told them I was going to win the bet before they did. Three Months Later...

She looked up at me with her big doe eyes, and I was nearly a goner. “Who wants to place bets against our Alpha?” Ethan asked, taking the pen from his clipboard. That asshole took any opportunity to gamble. He was very good at getting an unfair share of profits. We all had gambling issues in this group. It kept things interesting though. “I’ve got $10 on Emma,” Tyree said. “$20 on Emma,” the rest chimed in. “Apparently you assholes don’t understand the meaning of loyalty.” I glared at the lot of them, even though I was not upset in the least.