Chapter 295: I'm So Sick Of His Attitude

A murmur fills the room. Although most of the guests are wealthy and influential, very few have the kind of money and power to gain exclusive property rights in the city. The Oliver family owns almost all of the land, and they rarely sell it to anyone outside of the family. Controlling even some of the land could mean unimaginable wealth.

"It's a once in a lifetime opportunity," the girl says, twirling around her ribbon. "As long as you win, you can continue betting. Who knows, if luck favors you, you could leave this ship with the entire city under your control."

She wraps the ribbons around her wrist and rises higher and higher until she disappears above the stage. The gamblers get louder, pushing and elbowing each other as they look for their families. A few shuffle off the casino floor toward the bar, clearly sad that they left their families onshore.

Jessica shakes her head and says, "I can't believe this. Why on Earth would Jackson invent this game? Betting your family for some property rights—it's sick. Would you play, James?"

James shrugs and says, "It depends. Romantic love is the most unreliable thing in this world. Marriage is already the worst sort of bet, so why not gamble your husband or wife? But your family is irreplaceable—betting them is inexcusable."

"You baffle me, James," she says. "But that doesn't answer my question: why is Jackson doing this? Surely he knows there's a chance he'll lose. Property rights in the city are invaluable to him, but what does he want with some other man's wife or daughter?"

"You should know by now that he's not worried about money," James says, a small smile twisting the corner of his mouth. "Jackson's a player, and there's nothing he loves more than a good game."

"No, you're wrong," Jessica says, but her stomach turns sickeningly. "Jackson might like to have fun, but he's a serious man. This isn't like him at all." 

James' smile gets bigger, and she wants to slap it off his face. He acts like he knows everything, but he's just hired help, she thinks. I'm so sick of his attitude. He thinks he knows Jackson so well, but no one knows Jackson better than I do.

"Don't you have some smart response?" she asks.

"What do you want me to say?" James asks. "You're blinded by your love for him. No matter what I say, you'll continue to see the best in him—no matter how small his good side actually is."

Avery's mind races as she considers the new game. Betting a family member is insane, but the property rights could be enough to save her family. If she could get the rights to a few properties in the city, it wouldn't matter if Evan takes the Peters Company. She glances sideways at Andrew and sees that he's staring at her with a calculating expression.

"What?" she asks him.

"Just wondering what you're going to do," he answers, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Well, if you want to know, I'm thinking about betting you," Avery says. "If I lose the game, Jackson will keep you here, and if I win, I'll get property rights. Really, I win either way."

Andrew laughs and says, "I think we have to be family—not just engaged, but truly husband and wife. But if you're willing to claim me as your husband, I'll happily let you use me as your chip."

"Okay," Avery says, trying to hide her surprise. "If I win, I'll split the property rights with you. It's only fair."

Andrew's face pales slightly, "Oh, you're really serious about this."

"Of course I am," she says. "Why would I joke about it?"

"Avery, you're such a cold woman," Andrew complains. "You're really so willing to give me a way to Jackson when I only have six months left to live?"

He grabs her upper arm and pulls her close to him. His grip is tight, and his fingers hurt her, but she keeps her expression calm. He stares into her eyes and sighs sadly.

"A man is nothing compared to such wealth," Avery says. 

"But if you marry me, you can have both," Andrew says. "You'll have more money than you could possibly spend in this lifetime."

"I'm not going to spend my life, spending someone else's money," she says. "I'm not some gold digger." 

She grabs Andrew's arm and pulls him toward the registration table. A large crowd of people mill around, waiting for their chance to place their bet. Avery's surprised to see many people willing to trade their families for wealth and fortune.

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"I'm using my wife as a chip," a young man announces.

"I'm using my son," says an old woman.

"I'm using my daughter," says a familiar voice.

Avery stands on her toes and cranes her neck to see above the crowd. Her father is standing at the registration table and signing a piece of paper. She lets go of Andrew's hand and pushes her way through the crowd. She grabs the back of his jacket and tugs hard.

"Dad, what are you doing?" she asks.

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here," Anthony mutters, his face turning bright pink.

"Who are you using as a chip?" Avery asks. She reaches for the paper, but the registration girl snatches it away.

"I have to save the family business," Anthony says, squaring his shoulders. "I didn't have another choice. Really, this is your fault; you refused to help me before, so you'd better not stand in my way now."

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Andrew elbowing his way through the crowd. He stands by her side and wraps his arm protectively around her waist.

"What's going on here?" he asks.

"Mr. Clifford?" Anthony asks, his beady eyes bulging with surprise. "What are you doing here? Are you betting too?"

"In a way, yes," Andrew says. "My wife has decided to use me as her chip."

"Your wife?" Anthony asks. "I—I don't understand."

"Dad, we'll talk about it later," Avery says, glaring at Andrew.

"We've reached full capacity," the registration girl says. "Thank you for taking an interest in this event. We ask that all gamblers find their seats so the games can begin."

"Dad, who the hell did you put down?" Avery asks. "I don't care who it is, take it back. I told you I'd fix your problem, and I meant it."

Anthony looks between her and Andrew, and his mouth falls open. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at his sweaty forehead. Avery glares at him—she can't believe he used to scare her. He's pathetic and weak, she thinks.

"I-I didn't realize you meant you'd get the Cliffords to help," Anthony stammers. "That changes everything. Oh God, what will people think of me when they find out I was ready to gamble on my own daughter? I have to take it back."

"What's going on?" Andrew asks. "What am I helping with?"

Avery sighs and decides to tell the truth, "The Howel Group is trying to buy our family company. Apparently, my father is desperate enough to bet on one of his daughters." 

Andrew raises his eyebrows and takes her hand in his. His face is serious, but his eyes are gentle.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" he asks. "Your business is my business, you know. I would have done anything to help."

Avery stares at him in shock and surprise. She's used to him making sexual advances, but this tenderness confuses her. Instead of pulling her hand away, she holds his back. He looks at Anthony and his face shifts, turning cold and hard.

"Did you put her name down?" he asks.

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