The Price of a Pinky: A Vegas Tale

From the back cover

Our wedding was just days away, and the $50,000 down payment for our dream home, a generous gift from my parents, was safely secured for our future.

But that tranquil vision shattered the moment I found my fiancé, Mike, in our Vegas hotel suite, his raw voice mumbling the unthinkable: "The money, Sarah. It's gone."

Every cent, wiped out in a rigged poker game set up by Rick, Mike’s own best man.

Mike was a broken man, convinced he’d ruined everything, ready to call off our wedding indefinitely.

Yet, the anger I expected never came; instead, a cold, hard resolve settled deep within me.

This wasn't just about lost money; it was a calculated betrayal, a predatory scheme against our trust and future, by someone who was supposed to be family.

How could Mike’s best friend so cruelly fleece him, seemingly out of nowhere?

He didn't know the woman now staring down her desperate groom, pulling out her high-limit emergency credit card.

I looked him dead in the eye and declared, "It's our mess now, Mike, and I'm going to deal with Rick."

Tonight, he would witness a dangerous side of me he never imagined, as a deeper, long-suppressed past resurfaced to reclaim what was ours.