You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 113

VOID

The air reeked of whiskey, sweat, and bad luck, the kind of stench you only get when men gamble away their dignity with the same hands they use to shuffle cards.

I sat in the corner, bourbon burning down my throat, watching four fools huddle around a table, acting like kings with a few cards in their hands.

On the table, chips and cash piled high, even a gold watch someone had thrown in when he ran out of money.

The first man, big with sweat soaking his shirt, slammed his cards down. Pair of eights. Not bad, but not good enough.

The second, thin and twitchy, chewed his lip as he laid his cards. Three of a kind. A low whistle cut from the crowd as he raked in a small pile of chips with a smug.

The third leaned back in his chair, his teeth flashing gold when he smiled. He spread his cards in a straight flush and the room broke into cheers.

I sipped my bourbon as I watched the winner dragged the pile of chips toward himself.

One of the loser's face went red. "Son of a bitch!" he barked, knocking his chair back.

Storming off, he muttered some threats nobody took seriously.

The victor spread his arms wide, soaking in the cheers.

"Another round?" someone in the back called.

The man laughed, lifting his glass of whiskey. "Why not? Luck loves me tonight!"

Leaning back in his chair, he rolled a coin between his knuckles and scanned the crowd. That was when his eyes found me.

"You there," he lifted his chin at me. "Care for a round? Winner takes all."

I didn't answer at first. Just sipped my drink, letting the amber liquid burn down my throat.

He took my silence as consideration. "Come now. You don't strike me as a man without skills. Why not test how good you are?"

I set the glass down with a scoff. "Skill? Is that what you call cheating these days?"

The crowd fell silent. The man's toothpick smile faltered. "Excuse me?"

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees as I gestured toward his hands. "Left cuff, second button undone. Two cards taped inside your sleeve. You bent the corner of the queen of hearts on the first pass and let the deck breathe when you should've squared it. Sloppy work, really."

Color drained off him in a slow fade. He glanced down out of reflex, then yanked his gaze back up. "Nonsense! I did not do anything of such."

I shrugged. "If you say so."

I reached for my glass again. "Just for the record, I don't gamble. I take."

My phone buzzed at that moment. Eric's name burned on the screen.

I stepped out onto the balcony, cold air rushing against my face as I pressed the phone to my ear. "What is it?"

"Boss. I finished the research. I found Rali's parents."

My stride froze mid-step. My free hand closed tight around the railing.

"Where are they, Eric?"

.......

The house was 'wrong' the moment I stepped in.

Sure, my furnitures were intact. No asset was actually missing, but I knew it was empty.

I stripped my gloves off as I climbed the stairs, my steps steady, though my chest was burning. By the time I reached the room, I already knew.

"Yeah," I lifted my glass of pineapple juice, taking a sip that tasted sweeter than the lie I was swallowing. "It happens, dad."

"And you choose to spend this time with us?"

"Joe!" Mum swatted his arm with her napkin, a playful scowl wrinkling her face. "Don't make her second-guess her decision. I'm thrilled she'll be here with us. Finally, someone to help with the dishes."

I groaned. "Mum, please. I didn't come here to be your kitchen maid."

"Better the sink than the stove, Rali. Because if you cook, we might not have a house left to argue in "

Dad barked a laugh. "Exactly. Remember the other incident?"

"Hey!" I raised my finger. "That happened once. And it was toast."

"Blackened toast, Rali. Even the smoke alarm refused to eat it."

Mum's laughter rang like bells, and I had no choice but to sink in my chair and laugh too.

Dad leaned back, still chuckling. "You know I've always wanted my little girl home. I'm just surprised. It usually takes Christmas or my begging to get you back under this roof."

"Or the promise of your roast," Mum teased, elbowing him.

"Best roast in New Portland. Tell her, Rali."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You win, Dad. This is me turning a new leaf. For the next two weeks, you'll be stuck with me."

"Yeah, we're really going to be stuck if you'll be hogging the TV remote like you always do."

The table dissolved into more jokes and laughter. And I laughed too, like my heart weren't aching. Like it hadn't been quietly bleeding since I set foot in New Portland yesterday.