The Loser Who Bought The World

Chapter 7 : The Dealer’s Game

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Ethan Cross didn’t knock. He kicked the doors open.

Inside the marble-floored manor, two guards barely had time to draw their weapons before Wren had them disarmed and face-first on the ground. Ethan stepped over one of them, calm as if he owned the place.

In a way, he soon would.

Because the man they had come for—Marcus Vale, the infamous kingmaker, blackmail broker, and former political puppet master—was sipping aged bourbon in his drawing room like he hadn't orchestrated wars for profit.

He looked up from his glass as Ethan entered, amused. “My, my… The bastard son of chaos walks into my home like he’s the heir to it.”

Ethan smiled coldly. “Not yet. But I’m buying the deed.”

---

Marcus gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit, boy. You’re early. I expected you two days from now, after more digging through your father’s leftovers.”

“I don’t like wasting time,” Ethan replied, taking the seat without asking.

“Neither do I. That’s why I killed your father.”

Wren’s hand tensed over her sidearm. Jules froze.

Ethan didn’t blink.

“You want a reaction?” he asked calmly. “Try harder. I’ve already buried one Vale. I’m happy to make it two.”

Marcus chuckled. “Ah, so there’s a bite in you. Good. You’ll need it. The Ghost Fund isn't unlocked with bullets. It's unlocked with leverage. And leverage takes more than rage.”

---

Ethan leaned forward. “Then let’s stop dancing. I know you’re the second Gatekeeper. I want your piece of the map.”

“You’re not ready.”

Ethan shrugged. “Neither was my father. But he had the guts to try.”

That struck a nerve. Marcus’s grin faded slightly.

“You know why your father failed?” he said, swirling his drink. “He hesitated. He thought he could change the rules. That’s why he died with a knife in his back.”

“Then I’ll change the game entirely,” Ethan snapped. “You think you have power? You’re clinging to dust, Marcus. I’ve already taken your son’s empire and turned him into a footnote. Now I’m here for your legacy.”

---

Marcus stood slowly, setting his glass down.

“You want the map? Then win it.”

He walked toward a tall bookshelf, pulled a hidden latch, and revealed a reinforced steel safe. A second later, a long table extended from the wall—lined with cards, chips, and documents.

“This is the only game I play,” Marcus said. “No guns. No threats. Just deals. Information. Power.”

Ethan stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. “You want a game of war? Fine. But understand something, Marcus—when I win, I won’t just take the map. I’ll take your reputation with it.”

Marcus smiled. “Let’s see if you’ve got the teeth for it.”

---

An hour later, five power players sat around the table. Politicians, former intelligence agents, and corporate moguls—each brought in by Marcus as witnesses and participants. This wasn’t just a game.

It was a spectacle.

Wren whispered to Ethan, “He’s baiting you into playing on his terms.”

“I don’t care. I’ll beat him at his own table.”

The Dealer shuffled the cards. “Rules are simple. Three rounds. In each, we bet not money, but control. Secrets. Leverage. Every round you win, you earn a piece. Three rounds, three pieces. You lose?”

He smiled.

“You walk away with nothing. Or not at all.”

---

Round One: Corporate Leverage

Marcus laid down a folder.

“Hawthorne Bank. You took it from my son. But I still own 18%—through a chain of blind subsidiaries.”

He slid it forward.

“If you win, I sign it over. If I win, you return the remaining shares to the Vale Trust.”

Ethan didn’t hesitate. He pulled out his phone, accessed his Legatum System, and tapped in a command. A file appeared on the screen—proof of a scandal involving one of Marcus’s shell companies laundering foreign bribes through real estate fronts.

“I win, you sign. I lose, this goes public. Deal?”

Marcus raised a brow, impressed. “You’re not bluffing. I like that.”

They shook.

Cards were dealt. A brutal mental chess match followed—feints, raises, calculated risks. In the final hand, Marcus laid down a flush.

Ethan smirked—and revealed a full house.

First blood.

---

Round Two: Political Favors

Marcus pulled out a USB stick.

“Contained in this drive are emails connecting three world leaders to offshore arms deals. Win this round, and you get the leverage. Lose? I release it anonymously—and the world burns.”

Ethan calmly reached into his jacket and laid down his own drive.

“Footage of your secret meetings with ex-council members from the Nine. Your little dinner parties? I have the tapes. Lose, and I hand them over to the press.”

Marcus stared at the footage still frame—him shaking hands with a known war criminal.

For the first time, his smile slipped.

Cards hit the table again. Tension thick as fog.

This time, it was close.

But Ethan played a slow hand, baited Marcus into overbetting—and crushed him with four of a kind.

Second round. Ethan again.

---

Marcus Vale stood. His hands shook slightly as he opened the wall safe.

From a small metal case, he pulled out a parchment folded into thirds, sealed in wax.

The second piece of the Ghost Fund map.

He walked over, eyes narrowed. “You’re not like your father.”

Ethan met his gaze. “He tried to fix the world. I’ll own it, so no one like you can ever break it again.”

Marcus extended the parchment—then yanked it back just before Ethan could grab it.

“One final round,” he said. “Double or nothing.”

Wren stepped forward. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“It is now,” Marcus said. “Winner takes all. Loser? Walks away with nothing.”

Ethan stepped forward, eyes blazing. “What are you betting?”

Marcus reached into his safe again.

Pulled out a photo.

Ethan’s face paled.

It was a picture of a young woman. Long black hair. Sharp brown eyes. Fierce. Familiar.

“My mother,” Ethan whispered.

Marcus nodded. “She didn’t die in that fire. She was taken. She’s alive. But only I know where.”

---

“You bastard,” Ethan growled.

“I give you her location if you win. But if you lose—everything vanishes. The map. The data. Even the memory of her.”

Silence fell.

Then Ethan said, “Deal.”

---

The table was reset. The players rewatched.

The stakes: Everything.

Marcus played hard—controlled, surgical. He’d been doing this longer than Ethan had been alive. But Ethan wasn’t the same boy who had once begged for scraps.

He was a kingmaker now.

Final hand. Cards laid.

Marcus smiled, revealing a straight flush.

A beat passed.

Then Ethan calmly flipped over four aces.

---

The room erupted.

Marcus froze—eyes locked on the cards like they had betrayed him.

“You rigged—!”

“No,” Ethan said, standing. “I’m just better.”

He took the map. The photo. Everything.

Marcus tried to speak—but Ethan had already turned away.

“I came to take your piece of the world,” Ethan said. “Now I own it.”

---

But as Ethan stepped outside into the Zurich night, phone buzzing with new acquisitions…

A sniper scope blinked red in a nearby rooftop.

And a call was made.

“He has two pieces,” said a voice into the receiver. “Prepare to move on the Vault. And burn everything.”