Marked by her Billionaire

CHAPTER THREE

THE DEVIL’S GAME

Lexi’s POV

The smell of cigarette smoke hit me before I even saw it. The poker room was tucked behind mirrored doors I almost passed by in the casino’s glitzy chaos.

A heavy curtain shielded it from prying eyes, but the music thumping through the main floor seeped in anyway, like the heartbeat of the place.

I hesitated for a second, heels clicking on the marble, my palms slick with sweat. My jacket felt thin, my hair messy from walking the streets after Joe and Monica. I wasn’t supposed to be here.

I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere except back at my empty apartment, pretending I could hold myself together.

But I had no apartment anymore, no safe place, and no one to watch my back. And if there was one thing Tyler’s death had left me, it was a stubborn, dangerous kind of desperation.

I stepped inside.

The room was smaller than I expected, smoke curling under the low, amber lights. The tables were polished mahogany, the chips stacked high, glinting like treasure.

Men leaned back in leather chairs, their suits immaculate, eyes sharp and calculating.

I counted at least a dozen players at the central table, all older, confident men, laughing as the world owed them something…..And then there was I.

The only woman who was poorly dressed, my hair in a messy bun, shoes scuffed. They glanced up from their cards the moment I approached, and I felt their eyes linger on me like I was an insect buzzing into their habitat.

“You’re in the wrong room, sweetheart,” one of them said, a tall man with a perfectly knotted tie and a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “This is a private table with high stakes.”

I swallowed but didn’t respond.

I had no money left—no credit cards, no savings, nothing. But I did have something. Something they didn’t know. I had my foolish courage and I had a history of reading people.

Tyler had always said I had a gift for noticing the tiniest things.

I wasn’t scared of a table full of men who thought their money made them gods.

“I want in,” I said. My voice was steadier than I felt.

He laughed. “Cute. You got cash, little lady?”

I dug into my bag, pulling out a small velvet pouch. Inside were two pieces of inherited gold: my father’s watch and a pendant. They had been my last connection to a family that no longer existed. I set them on the table.

“Those are my buy-in,” I said. “Take them or go home.”

The men blinked, a pause heavy with disbelief. Then the laughter started, low and condescending.

“You’ve got guts,” the same man said, leaning forward. “But this isn’t a charity. You’re out of your league.”

I smiled faintly. “Maybe but that doesn’t mean I’ll lose.”

They shuffled the cards, chips rattling like tiny alarms. I took my seat, the chair creaking under me. All around me, men were talking, joking, trying to intimidate but I ignored them.

I focused on the cards, the way the men moved, the twitch of a thumb, the flick of an eye. Every detail mattered. Every slip was a c***k in their armor.

The first hand was small, nothing serious. I watched, memorized, and let them underestimate me. Their smirks widened with every card I folded, and I let them. Let them feel safe and smug.

By the third hand, the stakes were climbing. My stomach twisted, nerves threatening to betray me, but I had no other choice.

I pushed the watch forward first, then the pendant. Silence fell over the table like a sudden chill.

“Those are sentimental,” the man across from me said. His voice was mocking, amused. “You sure you want to risk those?”

I looked him square in the eye. “I’m sure.”

And we continue to play.

I stayed calm, calculating every fold, every bet, every glance. I didn’t react to their laughter or their whispers. I studied their breathing, their hands, and the way their shoulders tightened when they held a strong hand. Every gesture was a story, and I read it like I’d been reading for years.

The pot swelled, absurdly, monstrously. I kept betting, raising, and folding at just the right moments. I let them feel dominant, then snatched the lead with one subtle play after another.

They laughed, shook their heads, whispered to each other but I could see the first flickers of doubt.

By the final hand, I was all in. Chips piled high, my inheritance dangling in front of me like a test of nerve. I laid my cards down slowly, deliberately, letting every eye watch.

The room went silent.

Every man at the table leaned in, disbelief and fury twisting their faces. I had done the impossible. Against all odds, I had won. Two hundred thousand dollars in chips stared back at me, almost unreal in the dim light.

I gathered my winnings carefully, stacking them with deliberate calm, ignoring the mutters and the glares.

“I’m done,” I said, my voice even. “I’m not playing again.”

They opened their mouths, but I didn’t wait for what they had to say. I left the table and the room, leaving the judgment and the shock behind me.

My heels clicked against the floor as I moved through the casino, every step measured. The adrenaline and alcohol made the world tilt and blur, but I didn’t care.

Outside, the night had thickened. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the air smelled like rain and asphalt. I clutched the chips bag to my chest, dizzy and exhilarated.

I felt…..alive.

Then, a sound made my blood run cold.

A sliding door and the screech of tires.

I froze. My heart was hammering, the bag of chips pressing against me like it was too heavy.

Just then, a hand clamped over my mouth. Strong, merciless, and sure. Another grabbed my arm, twisting it behind me. My heels scraped against the floor, bleeding out.

I tried to scream, to struggle, but their grip was iron. My head spun, and the world narrowed to the sharp scent of leather, the heat of the hand on my face, and the sudden, terrifying certainty hit me….I had just won two hundred thousand dollars, and that made me a target.

I couldn’t see the van, but I could feel it. The smell of gasoline and metal, the faint hum of an engine, the dark promise of unknown danger.

“Easy now,” a voice murmured near my ear. “We just want you… alive.”

The words were polite. But the hand tightening across my mouth said everything else.

I struggled. My nails scraped leather, but it was useless. My mind raced.

Every skill I had learned, every survival instinct, every lesson Tyler had unknowingly taught me, flashed into focus.

This was the beginning of a game I didn’t want to play but I was already at the table.

And now… the dealer held the cards.