Chapter 60

As midnight approached, she'd consumed a dozen glasses of champagne and accumulated a staggering fifty-million-dollar debt—before interest. The alcohol had transformed her blood into liquid courage, numbing her to the financial catastrophe unfolding before her glazed eyes. The dealer raised his palm when she demanded more cards. "You can't play anymore, miss." "What the fuck?" Lyra's head swam as she tried to focus. "You've hit the credit limit, Miss Silverclaw." Lyra's gaze bounced between the impassive dealer and the handsome stranger who'd been by her side through her losing streak. Something finally clicked in her champagne-soaked brain. "You!" she accused, jabbing an unsteady finger at the stranger. "You set me up!" The man backed away, hands raised in mock surrender, his smug grin never faltering. “Hey, I’m just a player like you,” he said, the poker chips still clutched between his fingers like war trophies. “The house won tonight.” “You set me up!” Rage ignited behind Lyra’s ey