Betting My Family’s Pride for Revenge / Chapter 4: All or Nothing
Betting My Family’s Pride for Revenge

Betting My Family’s Pride for Revenge

Author: Tyler King MD


Chapter 4: All or Nothing

As soon as he picked up his cards, a look of ecstasy flashed across Ethan’s face. He shoved all his chips onto the table—a full $500,000. The chips toppled over, clinking in a little avalanche. Some relatives gasped, and Ethan’s smirk stretched ear to ear.

The crowd gasped. No one expected Ethan to bet half a million at once—such a show of force. Aunt Linda covered her mouth, her eyes wide. Uncle Tom let out a low whistle.

“Call or not? Oh, I almost forgot—you don’t have the money to call.” Ethan looked at me with ridicule. “Cody, if you can’t pay, just fold.”

He flicked his wrist, flashing the backs of his cards. His words stung. Some cousins snickered behind their beers.

My dad stepped back, hopeless. There was no way our family could come up with that much money. He leaned against the wall, staring at his shoes, lost. My mom put her hands over her face, silent tears slipping through her fingers.

“See? I told you to quit earlier. Now it’s too late,” Uncle Dave mocked, sounding satisfied.

“Who says I won’t call?” I pulled out my phone and started applying for online loans. My hands shook as I typed, the app’s blue-and-white logo burning into my retinas. My dad made a strangled noise, but I tuned him out.

Soon, I borrowed a million dollars online, transferred it to my bank app, and had the casino staff bring me a million in chips. The dealer double-checked my ID, then counted out the chips. The stack was taller than a Big Gulp, and the room was silent but for the click of plastic. Aunt Linda stared, speechless. My younger cousins just gaped.

“You’re crazy!” My dad stormed over, scolding, his voice hoarse. “If you lose, your life is over!” He squeezed my shoulder, worry etched in every line of his face.

“Don’t stop your son—he has to go all in now or he’ll lose everything,” my mom said, holding my dad back. Her voice was low, exhausted, her hand pressed to her forehead. For the first time, she took my side, and it made my heart ache even more.

My dad trembled with anger, pulling away to pace the room. Every few steps, he’d shoot me a pleading look. I ignored him and called the $500,000, sliding the chips in, trying to look calm, even as my legs threatened to give out.

“Cody, I didn’t expect you to get a million in online loans.” Ethan raised his eyebrows, a flicker of respect. For a moment, I wondered if he realized how far I’d go.

“But a million is nothing to me. Let me show you what real money looks like.” Ethan stood up, pointed at my face, and sneered. He bought $10 million in chips and stacked them high on the table. The pile looked absurd, like something out of a bad movie. Uncle Dave chuckled, clearly proud. The rest of the family watched in awe or horror.

The room fell silent. You could cut the air with a butter knife. The clock ticked loud as thunder. In their eyes, I was pathetic—my dad had lost a million, I’d lost hundreds of thousands, and Rachel was about to be humiliated.

The shame crawled up my spine. I could feel every pair of eyes on me—some judging, some pitying, some already looking away.

“Ethan, please forgive your cousin. My brother will get down on his knees if you want.” My dad rushed over to Ethan and sank to his knees, clutching Ethan’s pant leg, his voice cracking as he pleaded.

He actually went down, right there on the living room carpet, like he was at church and not in Uncle Dave’s house. The sight was so raw, a couple of the aunts started to cry quietly.

“Dad, what are you doing!” I hurried to pull him up, my own voice breaking. I’d never seen him like this, and it made me feel both angry and helpless.

“Forgive you? How did your family treat us back then?” Ethan jabbed a finger at my dad’s nose, voice sharp. Old wounds bubbled up, the room tensing as everyone remembered past holidays that ended in arguments.

“Ethan, are you speaking with a clear conscience? Wasn’t my dad good to your family?” I shot back, my voice echoing off the wood paneling. Uncle Dave shifted uncomfortably, the cousins looking anywhere but at me.

Back then, my dad paid $12,000 for Uncle Dave’s wedding. In 2000, that could buy two condos in town. Mom always told me about it—how my dad scraped together the money even when we didn’t have much. I remembered the faded wedding photos in Uncle Dave’s living room, proof of better days.

But later, when Uncle Ray and Uncle Tom got married, my dad gave each $30,000—trying to be fair. But jealousy spread quick in small towns, and Aunt Linda didn’t talk to us for a year after. She spread stories at church, and we became the target of every side-eyed look.

Once, Uncle Dave even slapped my dad when he was drunk at a BBQ. Nobody talked about it, but everyone remembered. After that, reunions were never quite the same.

Since then, a rift formed between the families, even spilling over to my generation and Ethan. Every game, every holiday, felt like a grudge match.

“Your dad always looked down on my parents,” Ethan cursed, pointing at me. “But I won’t argue about the past. Let’s settle it at the card table.”

“That’s right, brother-in-law. There’s no family at the card table. If you and your son can’t win, you’ve got no one to blame,” Uncle Dave said, his tone icy, smile gone.

My dad staggered, turning to Uncle Ray and Uncle Tom for help, but they turned away, like a door slamming in his face.

“Hmph, brother-in-law, you’ve owed us all these years. How dare you ask us for help?” Uncle Ray crossed his arms, looking smug. Aunt Cheryl pursed her lips, signaling whose side she was on.

“Brother-in-law, a man’s got to have his pride, or he’s got nothing. You looked down on us, so don’t ask for our help now,” Uncle Tom sneered, voice final. Mom started crying quietly, but nobody comforted her.

My dad was so angry he cried, wanting to say more, but I stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder, shaking my head. He trembled under my fingers.

“Uncle Ray, Uncle Tom, a person should have a clear conscience,” I said coldly, trying to keep my voice calm even though I wanted to scream.

Their so-called grudges were just that my dad hadn’t given them enough money over the years. They often called to borrow, but he couldn’t always agree. I remembered fights in the kitchen, my mom slamming cupboards, my dad with his head in his hands. He drew the line for me, so I could have a future.

“Smack!”

At that moment, my mom rushed over and slapped me across the face. Her palm cracked against my cheek, the sound echoing in the stunned silence. Her hand trembled as she lowered it. I tasted blood, but I didn’t flinch. My cousins stared, wide-eyed, as if they couldn’t believe she’d actually hit me. The room went utterly still.

She fixed me with a silent stare, her hand shaking. “How dare you talk to your uncles like that! So disrespectful!” Her voice shook, but her finger didn’t waver. I saw years of family stress in her eyes.

“Good job, sis!” Uncle Ray and Uncle Tom clapped in approval, like they were watching a play instead of a family falling apart. The sound made my ears ring.

I turned to my mom and said softly, “Mom, I’m sorry, I was wrong.” I meant it. I dropped my head, hands shoved in my pockets, and muttered, "Sorry."

“Don’t apologize to me—apologize to your uncles,” she demanded, arms crossed, jaw set.

I turned and dropped my head, hands in my pockets, voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry.”

“Nephew, it’s too late for apologies now. Hurry up and find a way to raise money to finish this round with Ethan,” Uncle Ray and Uncle Tom said, voices cold. Aunt Cheryl muttered, "He brought this on himself."

“Cody, if you really can’t, maybe Rachel should go on a date with us too. $300,000 a night,” my cousins jeered. Their laughter was sharp and mean. Rachel looked up briefly, eyes red, then stared back at her phone.

Expressionless, I returned to my seat, covering my cards with both hands as I nervously peeked at them. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The room felt colder, the laughter stinging like a slap.

“Hurry up,” Ethan said, cigarette dangling from his lips. “So, Rachel—what’s your favorite cocktail? Hope you like it strong.”

Rachel flinched, but didn’t answer right away. The aunts exchanged shocked glances, and one younger cousin giggled nervously. Ethan’s friends cackled, like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

His words made everyone burst out laughing, and some looked at me like I was a joke. The laughter was cruel, echoing off the cheap paneling. I clenched my teeth, staring at the table so I wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Hey Rachel, what’ll it be? Whiskey sour, or maybe something stronger?” Ethan taunted. Rachel just kept her head down, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Her silence stunned everyone. She didn’t resist—just kept crying quietly, and I felt the last bit of hope slip away. People stared at me with even more ridicule, but I looked at the dealer. “Dealer, what if I bet everything I have—my car, my future, whatever it takes?”

The relatives gasped. A couple aunts crossed themselves, as if I’d invoked a curse. The dealer just smiled, sliding a stack of chips my way.

“He’s crazy!”

“Did you hear that? He’s betting everything!”

Someone let out a low whistle, and a few cousins shuffled nervously. The atmosphere was somewhere between a family tragedy and a freak show. Even Ethan stopped laughing, looking at me like I’d grown a second head.

Ethan’s face darkened—he hadn’t expected me to go this far. “Son, if you lose, your dad will lose everything too,” my dad said, hopeless, patting my shoulder. His hand was cold, and I could feel his fear.

“Dad, trust me. I’ll be fine.” I tried to sound brave, but my voice wobbled. My mom looked away, unable to watch.

“You’re all insane,” the three uncles shouted. Aunt Linda stood behind them, arms folded, glaring at me.

My mom wanted to speak, but quickly fell silent, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Soon, the dealer brought over paperwork. I signed, and the dealer handed me $10 million in chips. I pushed all $10 million into the pot, hands steady for the first time all night. The family watched, silent and stunned.

“Ethan, keep going. Do you still have money?” I forced myself to sound confident. Ethan’s lips curled into a snarl.

Ethan grinned viciously. “Cody, I’ll call your bet with $20 million!”

“You don’t have $20 million in chips, do you?” I asked pointedly, locking eyes with him.

Ethan turned to the dealer. “Dealer, I’ll bet everything too.”

The dealer frowned, consulting his laptop. “Your credit isn’t as good—you can only get $7 million.” There were a few snickers from the younger cousins. Ethan’s face flushed, and he scowled.

“We’ll go all in too!” My other cousins rushed up. The dealer looked them up and down, unimpressed. “Altogether, the three of you can get $20 million.” They shrugged and signed, and the dealer handed over the chips.

Seeing the three cousins join forces, I realized they’d been in on it all along. It was a setup from the start. I glanced at my dad, who just shook his head, a broken man.

Soon, the three cousins signed their agreements, and the dealer brought out $20 million in chips. The table looked ridiculous, piles of chips stacked like little towers.

“I’m all in with $20 million!” Ethan’s cousins cheered as he shoved the chips forward.

“I have three Aces—show your cards!” Ethan stood up and slammed his three Aces onto the table with a flourish. For a second, the room was silent, then the cheering started.

The cards hit the table with a loud smack. The crowd surged forward for a better look. Even Uncle Tom craned his neck, eyes shining.

“Damn, three Aces!”

Someone let out a whoop. The room echoed with gasps. “What a hand—three Aces!” The cousins slapped Ethan on the back. Aunt Cheryl even clapped. Someone snapped a photo with their phone.

The aunts shook their heads, already mourning my loss. Mom turned away, burying her face in her hands.

...The crowd was stunned by Ethan’s cards. With this round, Ethan would win over $30 million. It was like watching a train crash in slow motion. I could feel the weight of every eye, waiting for the final blow.

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