My Fiancé Lost the Bet, So I Chose His Brother

It was the day before Eric Blade's birthday party, and I was on the guest list. Eric was supposed to be my fiancé. But in a secret bet with his older brother, Tristan Blade, he had lost the right to propose to me first. I hadn't even had time to react. Then he added me to a private Blade family group chat. Only a few people were in it, all from Eric's inner circle. Tristan was there too. "Congrats, Tristan, on winning yourself a 220-pound fiancée." Eric posted a photo of me at a gala two years earlier. My evening gown was stretched so tight it looked ready to split. My neck was practically invisible beneath all that fat. The chat had been quiet until someone finally spoke up. "Holy shit, she's supposed to be a noblewoman? She looks like a pig!" Then Eric added another message. "A bet's a bet, Tristan. "Tomorrow you have to propose to Emma in front of our father." Tristan still didn't say a word. Eric even opened a betting pool at the casino run by his family. The bet was whether Tristan would dare propose. Jasmine Blade, Tristan and Eric's adopted sister and known for her beauty, tagged me. "Emma, I've wanted to be friends with you for so long. "Congratulations." That was what she said, but she bet that Tristan wouldn't propose. I looked at their messages and laughed. No one knew. Two years ago, I saw Eric from across the room at a gala. Since then, I had gone from 220 pounds to 110. And none of them knew what the past two months had been like for me. In that time, I'd received more personal invitations than in my first 18 years combined. Quietly, I put down $20,000. I bet that Tristan would propose. Then I replied in the chat, "A bet's a bet." Chapter 1 I stared at Eric's message for ten whole seconds. "Congrats, Tristan, on winning yourself a 220-pound fiancée." He had even added three party-popper emojis. One of his friends didn't get the joke. "He rolled a six and won. Eric really got the short end of the stick." Eric shot back right away. "A loss? Really?" Then he dropped a photo into the chat. It had been taken two years earlier, at a cocktail party I'd gone to. Back then, I weighed 220 pounds, and even the largest gown I could find barely fit. I hid in a corner of the ballroom, eating chocolate cake with my head down. Whoever took the photo had clearly been standing far away. But even the blurry image couldn't hide my size. Someone finally broke the silence in the chat. "Holy shit, she's supposed to be a noblewoman? She looks like a pig!" "Yeah, that's not a loss. That's a huge win." Eric kept going. "@Tristan, tell us how it feels to win 220 pounds of pork." I watched him use me to provoke his brother. Just a minute earlier, Eric had been sweet-talking me in a private chat. "All I lost to him was the right to propose to you first. "It's my fault I rolled lower than he did. Just turn him down tomorrow." I didn't reply. But the group chat was already blowing up. "How could the Don have the heart to suggest this marriage?" "That's why he let the girl choose." "But whichever one she picks, the poor guy might get crushed under her on their wedding night." "Well, that solves the Blade family's succession problem." None of them mocked me outright. But every message dripped with sarcasm. Eric stepped in to stop them. "That's enough. "Don't make Emma cry." He sounded considerate, but he was mocking me for how easily I cried. My fingers went cold. Three years earlier, my family's fortunes had begun to decline. My father, head of the Perrin family, was determined to preserve what remained of our status. So he proposed a marriage alliance with the country's most powerful mafia family. I was the only woman in the family of marrying age, and I wanted no part of it. Eric was the one who reached out to me first. "Don't you dare choose Tristan over me. Give me a chance." After that, he pursued me online for a whole year. When I couldn't sleep, he stayed up all night with me. Whenever I felt down, he cheered me up. My father cut me off financially to force me to agree. And he was the one who stepped in to help. Eric won me over. A year later, I came home. At a gala, I secretly got a good look at him. He was handsome and fit, brimming with youthful confidence. To be good enough for him, I worked hard to lose weight. But I never imagined what would happen next. I had finally agreed to the marriage and couldn't have been happier. Then he turned around and gambled away the right to propose to me. I stared at the group chat. When Tristan stayed silent, Eric kept provoking him. He had even opened a betting pool at the casino. "Will Tristan Propose Tomorrow?" He put down $10,000 himself. His right-hand man, Hank Russo, followed with $5,000. Hank even added, "Tristan's probably learning to speak pig." Tristan answered immediately. "Show some respect. "Talk like that and Emma's going to cry." I finally laughed out loud. So he knew I would cry. Yet he'd still brought his whole crew along to watch me do it. Just then, a new message popped up in the chat. Jasmine wrote, "Emma's going to join my family someday. Hank, you're being too mean." She was the Don's adopted daughter, and everyone called her the most beautiful woman of their generation. A couple of days earlier, she had posted a set of photos on Instagram. Sun-kissed skin, a hot little bikini. More than 10,000 compliments filled the comments. She tagged me. "Emma, I've wanted to be your friend for so long. "Congratulations." That was what Jasmine said, even as she bet $3,000. Her bet was that Tristan wouldn't propose. Then she added with fake sweetness, "We don't mean anything by it. Don't feel bad about your looks." Until then, only a handful of people had been talking in the group chat. Now it was suddenly flooded with messages. Message after message said, "Jasmine is so kindhearted." I didn't rush to answer her. Instead, I placed a bet of my own. Twenty thousand dollars, everything I'd saved from three years of selling my paintings. I put it all on Tristan proposing to me. The chat went dead silent. But I could just picture them laughing at how delusional I was. Eric messaged me privately right away. "Are you crazy? "You don't actually think my brother's going to propose to you, do you?" I looked at myself in the mirror. My long hair fell down my back, and my waist was slim enough to circle with one hand. My features, once hidden beneath layers of fat, were now sharply defined. My beauty was bold, almost intimidating. Over the past two months, I'd been asked out plenty of times at cocktail parties and dinners. A talent agent had even cornered me for half an hour to ask if I wanted to shoot ads. Eric didn't know any of this. I had wanted him to see the best version of me at the engagement party. Now it was clear he didn't deserve the surprise. I didn't expect Tristan to fall in love with me just because of how I looked now. But I was sure no one would turn down a woman like me or the enormous benefits my family could offer. I blinked back my tears and replied, "A bet's a bet." Chapter 2 Seconds later, Eric called. I didn't pick up. He called three times in a row. Finally, he sent several voice messages. "Emma Perrin, have you lost your mind? "You know Tristan and I don't get along. "He won't propose. "Do you really want to humiliate yourself?" I was so angry I laughed. I didn't bother answering. Hank couldn't resist stirring up more trouble in the group chat. He announced that, proposal or not, Tristan would have to play couples' games with me. Holding hands. Hugging. Feeding each other cake. Someone in the chat warned Hank, "Don't stir things up. She's an aristocrat." But Eric didn't care. "It's settled. "Tristan said nothing, so that means he agrees. "Thanks to him, I'll get to see Handsome and the Beast at my birthday party." He was saying it on purpose. But Tristan never replied. His profile picture was solid black, and his bio was completely blank. Even Eric seemed a little afraid of him. He had no trouble mocking me, but he didn't dare push his brother for an answer. Suddenly, the whole thing felt ridiculous. The Perrin family might have been in decline, but we still controlled plenty of mines and plantations overseas. Eric knew perfectly well what humiliating me could cost him. He did it anyway, counting on me to forgive him. Even if I tried to make a big deal out of it, he could simply delete the group chat, leaving me humiliated and the Perrin name disgraced. Just then, someone knocked on my door. My mother paused when she saw me standing before a row of gowns. She hesitated for a few seconds. "Are you really going to Eric's birthday party by yourself tomorrow? "I know it's a party for young people. I've seen the plans. "But the Don is going so he can meet you. He'll want to know who you're choosing." I looked at my mother. No one in my family wanted me to marry into the mafia less than she did. She was also the one who had always been there for me. For Eric, I had spent two years losing weight. At my worst, I ate nothing but a few lettuce leaves a day and lay awake at night with hunger cramps. Then I fainted at home. My mother hired a nutritionist, who made me stop starving myself. That was when I began cutting back on sugar and lifting weights. In two years, I went from 220 pounds to 109. My father only ever made cutting remarks. My mother, on the other hand, was there for me every time I dropped a dress size—all seven of them. At some point, she learned about Eric and how he had been there for me. Her first reaction was to cry. More than anyone, she wanted someone to treat me well. She prayed that Eric would protect me in that dangerous world. But she didn't know. The man she'd pinned her hopes on was the very person who had tried to hurt me. My mother hugged me. "Emma, we will have everything ready for you. "You'll always be my baby. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." As soon as the door closed, tears stung my eyes. Right then, my phone buzzed. Tristan finally replied in the group chat. He ignored their taunts and wrote, "She's not a bet." The chat went silent. A few seconds later, he tagged me. "You don't have to come tomorrow. I'll explain to my father." Eric shot back, "Come on, Tristan. You're making me look bad here!" Eric was the son of the Don's lover. After she died, the Don took Eric home. People said Tristan had never had much to say to his brother. Sure enough, he didn't reply again. I stared at his words. "She's not a bet." Without thinking, I touched the little donut earrings in my ears. His short, clipped way of speaking reminded me of someone else. Three years earlier, while studying abroad, I'd had one friend. The only friend I'd ever had. Then Eric's call cut the memory short. Chapter 3 This time I answered. Eric sounded irritated. "Do you know Tristan?" "No." "A guy like him, standing up for a girl he doesn't even know?" Eric scoffed. "Don't think that sweet little voice of yours will work on him too." But three years earlier, Eric had been the one to seek me out. It was Christmas, and every home was lit up as families gathered together. Meanwhile, my father was mercilessly humiliating me for refusing the marriage. "Forget what you want. I'm more worried they will reject a pig like you!" I was curled up in the dark, crying, when Eric called me. Given who he was, I picked up. He demanded to know which brother I would choose. I stammered that I didn't want to marry anyone. Suddenly his attitude changed. "Was I too harsh? "Your voice is so sweet. If you cry too much, you'll go hoarse." Back then, he'd been so gentle. Now, on the phone, he sounded like a completely different person. I was quiet for a couple of seconds. "So?" On the other end, he was clearly getting angrier. "You really want to make me say it? "Emma, Jasmine told me two years ago. "The biggest woman at that party was my fiancée." So everything had changed after that party two years earlier. After Eric first heard my voice, he stopped bringing up the marriage. Instead, he began pursuing me relentlessly. He stayed up with me night after night, making me laugh. Then my father forced me to come home and cut me off financially. Through it all, Eric liked and shared my work. He even secretly bought my paintings through an anonymous account. Touched, I cautiously admitted that I wasn't exactly slim. "Who says being big isn't beautiful? "Emma, your soul is as pure as your paintings. "It's your soul I like." His words won me over. At the time, business between our families was going well. The Don hadn't agreed to the marriage outright. But he suggested the two families host a party together. I believed what Eric had told me. I thought maybe I deserved to be loved. Afraid I'd embarrass him, my father told everyone I was still studying abroad and forbade me from going. But I went anyway, secretly. I only wanted to catch a glimpse of Eric from afar. It was after that party that he suddenly went cold on me. Before, he had called me at least twice a day. Afterward, I got nothing but good morning and good night messages. I asked him what was wrong. He said the Blade family had put him in charge of the West Side, and he was busy. But come on, who goes an entire day without checking their phone these days? It turned out he had recognized me long ago. "Let's call it what it was: fun and games. Do you know how many beautiful women I've got around me? "Someone your size? I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole." I asked, "Then why didn't you break up with me back then?" My question caught Eric off guard. He gave me no answer. But I knew exactly why. My mother had found out how attentive he'd been to me. She had quietly given him access to some of the plantations in her own name. He didn't want to lose what he was getting from her, but he didn't want to marry me either. "I've been more than fair to you." His voice was frighteningly cold. "There's no way Tristan would ever choose you. "So no matter who you marry, the rest of your life is going to be miserable. "But if you call off the engagement yourself, I might just help you leave the country." I gripped my phone. A dull ache still lingered in my chest. Once I had that answer, the ache faded. So he had never really meant to marry me. Eric didn't want my family resources to end up in Tristan's hands. He was humiliating me to force me to call off the engagement. He'd already made a fortune off my mother's plantations. Now all he had to do was pin the blame for the failed engagement on me. That way, he could escape the family's wrath and get away with everything. My heart had never felt so cold. I started recording the call and kept my voice flat. "Well, aren't you generous." Eric missed the sarcasm. His tone softened. "Emma, use your head. "Don't bother showing up tomorrow. Jasmine will be there too. "And if you do, I'll make sure she's standing right next to you. Then you'll know what real humiliation feels like." I asked slowly, "She does whatever you say?" The line went quiet. "You've still got time to worry about her? "While I'm still willing to help you get out of the country, you'd better start thinking about where you'll go once you call off the engagement." I laughed. Tomorrow's birthday party was going to be even livelier than I'd thought. Chapter 4 Early the next morning, my family began getting me ready for the party. It was just a gathering for young people. But my father still assigned over a dozen bodyguards to escort me. My mother had my gown brought in, and a top makeup artist did my makeup. Only after that did I have time to look at my phone. The group chat had 99+ unread messages. Everyone was hashing out the plan for tonight. Someone had deliberately posted a photo of an extra-wide chair. "Hank swapped it in. Said a normal chair might not hold her." "So thoughtful. The family's better off with him in it." Eric wrote, "She's not coming. Don't bother." Jasmine wrote, "Noble families take their commitments seriously. The Perrin family would never break their word. "Promise me you won't make fun of her anymore, okay?" The chat immediately erupted with praise for Jasmine, calling her beautiful inside and out. I turned off my phone and put on the long white dress my mother had made for me. The simple cut emphasized my waist and the slender lines of my shoulders and neck. When I came out, even my father stood frozen for a good half minute. My mother's eyes went red. She circled me a few times and decided the little donut earrings didn't go with the dress at all. She raised a hand to send someone for her pearl earrings. But I turned her down. My father snorted. "Some street junk a homeless man gave you. "You're an embarrassment to the Perrin family!" My mother hurried him out of the room. Before she left, she looked back and smiled at me. "I know. It's a precious gift from a friend. "It's your good-luck charm." When I was studying abroad, my classmates shunned me and laughed at me for weighing 220 pounds. During my loneliest, hardest days, I met a homeless man. Besides my mother, he was probably the only person in the world who had been kind to me. But he died on Christmas, right before I came home. These earrings were his gift to me. Losing him hurt so much that I hadn't worn any other earrings in the two years since. I put my memories of him away, and before I knew it, it was five in the afternoon. Someone in the group posted a video of the party venue. It was a suite in the most luxurious hotel in town. A four-tiered cream cake stood in the middle of the main room. Hank yelled into the camera, "Emma, come on over. We've got your favorite sweets here." Harsh laughter rang out around him. Eric was sitting on the sofa. He glanced at the camera and scoffed. "Told you. She's not coming. "She wouldn't even show her face on camera. What makes you think she'll show up in person?" Jasmine, sitting beside him, gave him a playful little shove. "Don't you talk about my good friend like that." I turned off the video and rode to the hotel with my security detail. At the same moment, a friend request popped up on my phone. The request contained just one name: Tristan. When I accepted, he messaged me right away, "You don't have to go. I'll make Eric shut his mouth." I stared at his message. He had already shown me genuine kindness. I'd been betrayed too many times, and the wounds still hadn't healed. Right now, I didn't want to trust anyone except my mother. "I'll be there. "I'm doing this for my family. Whether I want to go or not doesn't matter." I was going to make everyone who'd mocked me pay for it. The screen showed him typing for a long time. In the end, he didn't say anything. I didn't think much of it. Half an hour later, I stood outside the party's private room. I took out my invitation and handed it to the guard at the door. I could feel the guards sneaking stunned looks at me from behind their sunglasses. Laughter came from inside. "It's almost six. Looks like the pig's too scared to show up." "Told you. She'd need a truck just to haul herself here." They didn't dare say things like that in the group chat. But behind my back, they didn't hold back. I heard Eric say casually, "I already tried to talk her out of coming. "Don't come, and don't marry into the Blade family. "Someone like her can hide behind a screen and pretend she's something she's not. "Besides, we've already made a fortune off her mom's plantations. "Let's just get this over with." Jasmine laughed and chimed in. "I don't think Emma was trying to deceive you. "Maybe she just wanted someone to love her." Another round of laughter went up. I listened, clenching my fists so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Just then, a voice came from behind me. "And you are?" I turned around. A tall man was standing there. He had sharp, almost intimidating features and a pair of stunning gray eyes. In an instant, I was back on that Christmas night. That night was so much like today. People laughed all around me after someone dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. They kept calling me a slab of frozen pork, laughing and jeering the whole time. My friend appeared out of nowhere, grabbed one of the guys, and laid into him. As he moved, his messy hair flew back, and I saw a pair of beautiful gray eyes. My heart skipped a beat. "Ia..." In a daze, I almost said my friend's name. Ian. Luckily, he cut me off. "Emma?" I snapped out of it and looked away. It took me a moment to steady myself before I nodded. He didn't get a chance to say anything else. Eric's smug voice came from inside again. "Ten seconds left. I told you the pig wouldn't dare come. "Ten! "Nine! "Eight!" Tristan heard it too. "I'll go in with you." I said nothing, but my grip on the door handle tightened. All these years, I'd been bullied for my weight more times than I could count. Now it was time to turn their laughter into something else. Gasps of disbelief. The countdown was one second from zero. I pushed open the doors to the party.