Anthony wipes the sweat from his forehead and takes the ball. The audience bursts into applause again. Leilani ducks under the bodyguard’s arm and runs to her father. She grabs the back of his jacket and tugs him away from the wheel.
“Are you crazy?” she asks. “Stop this right now! You’ve already won so much, and there’s no need to keep playing.”
Her father’s eyes are crazed and slightly unfocused—he seems drunk on his success. He tosses the ball from hand to hand and pushes Leilani away. He turns back to the table and Leilani fights the urge to hit him. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Andrew arguing with the bodyguard. The bodyguard nods and steps aside and Andrew rushes over.
“Don’t blame yourself, Leilani,” Andrew says. “Jackson knows all about human weakness. He’s an expert at bringing out the worst in people.”
“I don’t need you to explain the situation to me,” she snaps.
The wheel begins to spin again, and Anthony chants the word sun under his breath. Some people in the audience begin to do the same. Soon everyone is chanting the sun as loud as they can. The wheel slows, and the ball bounces slowly before dropping into a sunspace.
The ball is still rattling, but Anthony pumps his hands in the air, ready to celebrate his victory. Leilani feels herself starting to relax. But then the ball bounces and slips into the next space. The bunny girl lifts it, revealing stars. Anthony freezes with his hands still foolishly in the air, and the audience groans.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you’ve lost,” the bunny girl says. “You will get to keep the real estate rights, but you must forfeit your chip.”
Another bunny girl rushes over, carrying a silver tray with several official-looking doc.u.ments. She puts the tray on the roulette table and offers Anthony a gold pen.
“Sir, please sign your name here and here,” the bunny girl says.
“What is this?” Anthony asks.
“This is the doc.u.ment to transfer the real estate rights to you,” the girl says. “I have three copies: one for you, one for Mr. Oliver, and one for the city records office.”
Anthony grabs the pen and signs his name with a flourish. Though he’s just lost Gabrielle, his smile is huge. Leilani’s stomach churns just watching him. How can he be so smug when he’s just gambled away his daughter? She wonders. He’s never been a good father, but this is monstrous—even for him.
Another bunny girl brings a gold tray with more papers, “These transfer your chip to Mr. Oliver.”
Anthony signs the paper without a second of hesitation. The spectators groan and whisper disapprovingly. Andrew’s hand tightens on Leilani’s shoulder, holding her back.
“You need to sign it too,” the bunny girl says to Gabrielle.
Gabrielle’s face pales, and she stammers, “I-I re-refuse.”
“Oh, hurry up and sign it,” Anthony snaps. “I raised you for eighteen years, and you’ve never done anything to help the family. It’s about time you did something to repay us.”
“Dad, are you serious?” Gabrielle asks, her eyes filling with tears. “You do realize what it means if I sign my name? Mr. Oliver will degrade and humiliate me.”
Anthony’s mouth trembles, but he shakes his head and says, “Just sign it! You guard, what are you waiting for? Make her sign it.”
Two bodyguards step forward, looming over Gabrielle. Next, to the bulky men, Gabrielle looks especially small and defenseless. Tears fall down her face as she takes the pen and slowly signs the contract.
“Well, that’s done,” Anthony says with obvious relief. “I, for one, am happy to follow the rules of this contract.”
The chandeliers dim and a spotlight sweeps over the crowd and lands on a grand marble staircase. Jackson appears in the middle of the light, and the crowd goes crazy with applause. He’s wearing a neat white suit and holding a glass of wine. He raises his wine in a toast to the audience, and the cheering gets louder. Waiters circle through the crowd carrying glasses of champagne and wine so everyone can return the toast.
“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Jackson says. “As a token of my gratitude, I’m giving everyone a red envelope. Inside each envelope, you’ll find a voucher for a million ch.i.p.s. Please play and have fun with me.”
More waiters appear carrying trays laden with red envelopes. The crowd stamps their feet and cheers, and Jackson slowly descends the staircase. Greedy hands snatch at the envelopes, and the audience rushes away to play their favorite games and try to double or even triple their new money.
The bodyguards are distracted by the chaos, and Leilani runs to Gabrielle. She wraps her sister in a tight hug, and Gabrielle sobs into her shoulder. Her delicate body shakes and trembles, and Leilani holds her tighter.
“Leilani, what do I do?” Gabrielle sobs. “I can’t stay with Jackson. I just can’t.”
“Don’t worry,” Leilani whispers. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
She looks around the room for their father, but he’s already disappeared among the gamblers. He’s probably already playing some other game, she thinks with disgust. She sees Andrew walking toward Jackson, and she starts to form a plan. Gently, she lets go of Gabrielle and helps her sit down.
“Listen, Gabrielle, I need you to stay here,” she says. “I’m going to fix this.”
She squares her shoulders and walks up to Andrew and Jackson, wrapping her arm around Andrew’s waist as casually as his wife would. Andrew smiles and kisses her on the cheek. She forces herself to accept the kiss.
“Well, look at that, Andrew,” Jackson says. “You’ve got quite the woman on your arm. Congratulations, again.” Jackson turns to Leilani and continues, “Can I call you Mrs. Clifford now?”
“You can call me whatever you like,” Leilani says impatiently. “But enough with the small talk, I want to make a bet with you.”
Jackson laughs as if she’s just told a joke. She stares at him, calmly and waits for him to stop. Andrew’s arm tightens around her waist, and he shakes his head warningly.
“Oh, are you serious?” Jackson asks, still fighting back laughter. “You have some nerve, Mrs. Clifford, challenging me to a game in my own casino. I have to admit, and I’m intrigued. What game do you want to play?”
“Blackjack,” Leilani says.
“And let me guess, you want to play for your sister,” Jackson says.
“Of course,” she answers.
“Well, Mr. Clifford, you’ve got a fiery woman,” Jackson says. “I hope your sister is just as fiery as you are, Mrs. Clifford. I do enjoy taming a woman. I’m not interested in playing your little game, though. I’d rather spend my time with your sister.”
Leilani grits her teeth and digs her nails into her palm. It takes every ounce of her self control to keep from slapping Jackson. Andrew tightens his arm around her as if to hold her back.
“Jackson, if you have time, why not play with her?” Andrew asks. “After all, you’re an expert, and she’s clearly not. What do you have to lose?”
Jackson seems to consider the suggestion. He looks up and down at Leilani, and his forehead wrinkled with thought. Finally, he shrugs and nods.
“All right, I’ll play,” he says. “And I’ll even let you set the rules, Mrs. Clifford.”
“Standard rules,” Leilani says. “Person with 21 wins. I’m sure a gambling man like you is familiar with the rules, no?”
“Very well,” Jackson says, strutting off toward the nearest blackjack table. “Let’s play.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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