Chapter 4

"Get out and get to work! I don't want to look at your ugly face!" she screamed, shoving me out the door.

The buses back to campus had stopped running. With nowhere to go, I huddled in the cold stairwell, planning to sleep there for the night.

But at midnight, I heard our apartment door click open.

I peeked through the fire door. My mom was sneaking out, dressed in her best clothes.

A bad feeling washed over me. I quietly slipped down the stairs and followed her through the dark streets.

She navigated several alleyways before slipping into the back door of a seemingly closed storefront.

It was labeled as a private social club, but it was dead quiet inside. No one was around.

What was she doing here?

I snuck in. The hallway seemed to lead to a dead end, but when I pushed a hidden panel near the floor, a heavy door swung open.

It was a loud, smoky underground casino.

Dozens of people were gathered around green felt tables, betting thousands.

I blended into the crowd and easily spotted my mom at a high-stakes poker table.

She had a massive stack of chips in front of her, and the people around her were kissing her feet.

"Samantha, you're on fire tonight! Must be nice having that billionaire ex-husband of yours!"

My mom laughed hysterically, tossing a $2,000 chip to a dealer.

"That's pocket change! Phillips just wired me another two million. I've got more money than I know what to do with!"

"Today, I'm in a good mood. This is on me!"

I watched in horror as she threw money around like water. Within an hour, her luck ran out.

She lost the entire two million and ended up owing the house another $500,000.

A burly, tattooed loan shark stepped up, his face dark.

"Pay up, Samantha. Or we'll start taking fingers."

She didn't even flinch.

"Calm down. I'll just get more from Phillips. I'll tell him Hart has leukemia and needs ten million for chemo. He'll wire it in ten minutes."

My blood ran cold.

The millions my dad sent over the years had all been pissed away in this basement.

I watched as she actually dialed my dad's number. When she hung up, she smirked at the enforcer.

"See? He's processing it. Let's deal another hand! I'm going to win it all back!"

Realizing the sheer gravity of her lies, I slipped out of the casino.

My hands shook as I dialed the number Jackson had given me. The butler answered.

"Vance residence. How can I help you?"

"Tell Phillips Vance that his son, Hart Vance, is on the line."

Ten seconds later, my father's breathless, trembling voice came through.

"Hart? Where are you? We need to meet right now."