He Bet His Heartbeat On My Sister

At our third-anniversary yacht party, my stepsister waved her smartwatch with a sly smile and proposed a game to the crowd. "If I can blindfold myself and get Julian's heart rate over 130 in three minutes, I win." "As for the stakes? Let's bet on whether my dear sister Chloe flips out and demands a divorce on the spot." Everyone thought it was just a joke, including my husband. Leaning back on the sofa, Julian didn't refuse. Instead, he tossed his matching smartwatch onto the glass table. "Fine by me. I'll throw in twenty grand that my wife won't make a scene over nothing." As the crowd cheered and the two of them wrapped into each other's arms, I quietly pulled out my phone and tapped record. The sea breeze swept across the yacht’s deck, bringing an early autumn chill. Today was our third wedding anniversary, and also the celebration party for Julian landing a massive contract for his company. Inside the cabin, the lights were dim, and the scent of champagne hung heavy in the air. My stepsister, Maya, suddenly stood up, waving the latest smartwatch on her wrist. "Just drinking is boring. Why don't we play a little heartbeat challenge?" I looked up at her, my brows furrowing. "What kind of challenge?" Maya didn’t look at me. Her gaze drifted straight to Julian, who was sitting right beside me. Her eyes flickered with clear flirtation. "I blindfold myself and touch Julian." "If I can get his heart rate past 130 within three minutes, I win." "The bet is whether my dear sister Chloe loses her mind and demands a divorce right here, right now." "If she stays calm, I'll pay you guys twenty thousand dollars." The friends around us paused for a second before hooting and cheering. I found it absurd and turned to Julian. "Maya's drunk. Ignore her." Julian let out a soft chuckle and set down his glass. He unclasped his smartwatch—the couple’s watch that matched mine—and casually tossed it onto the glass coffee table. "It's just a game to hype up the party. What's there to be afraid of?" With that, he pulled an unlimited black card from his jacket and placed it on top of the watch. "I'll match twenty grand. If Chloe doesn't ask for a divorce, the money is yours." Maya broke into a giggle, instantly untying the silk scarf around her neck and tying it over her eyes. "You said it, Julian. No backing out." Sitting beside him, my hands and feet turned ice-cold. "Julian, today is our anniversary," I reminded him in a low voice. He took my hand, his thumb lightly brushing the back of my fingers. "Babe, Maya’s just young and having fun. Everyone's having a good time. You're not going to be a buzzkill over a harmless game, are you?" His palm was warm, but my heart sank straight into an abyss. In the past, whenever I frowned, he would coax me with that exact gentle tone. I stared into his eyes for a few seconds, then slowly pulled my hand away. "Fine. Go ahead." Hearing that, Maya fumbled her way toward Julian. She didn’t take the empty seat next to him. Instead, she straddled Julian’s lap. "Timer starts now," Maya purred. Julian stiffened slightly and instinctively glanced at me. "Babe, don't regret this later." I stared back, my face completely expressionless. Maya’s fingers slid down Julian’s shirt buttons, trailing up to his Adam’s apple. Her nails gently scraped the sensitive skin. Julian didn’t push her away. Instead, he leaned back, his throat bobbing visibly. Maya lowered her head, her warm breath fanning against the crook of his neck. Mellow jazz drifted through the cabin. The people around us held their breath, their glances darting between the three of us. I sat there in silence, as if my soul had been drained away. Maya’s crimson lips brushed against Julian’s earlobe. She whispered something too low to hear. Julian’s hands suddenly clamped around Maya’s slender waist, pulling her flush against his chest. On the coffee table, the smartwatch screen lit up, the numbers jumping rapidly. 105… 118… 126… 132. It broke 130. The number burned my eyes. Julian’s hands remained firmly gripped on Maya’s waist—the exact spot he used to caress whenever he held me. I didn't even know when he had started rejecting my touch. When I wanted a hug, he would say old married couples didn't need that nonsense. When I leaned in for a kiss, he said he was too exhausted from work to get in the mood. It turned out he wasn't tired, nor did he dislike affection. He was just tired of me. Yet right in front of everyone, with my stepsister on his lap, his heart rate easily skyrocketed past 130. "Three minutes are up!" someone yelled. Maya pulled off the scarf, casting a triumphant glance at the watch on the table before turning to me. "Well, Chloe, my number is in. What’s your answer?" I looked at Julian. The dazed, flushed excitement hadn't faded from his eyes, and his hands hadn't even left Maya's hips. I stood up, smoothing the wrinkles from my dress. "Julian, I want a divorce."The cabin fell dead silent. The lust in Julian's eyes instantly evaporated, replaced by sheer shock. "Chloe, what kind of nonsense are you spewing?" Maya, on the other hand, clapped her hands in unbridled delight. "Awesome! I won!" She shamelessly held out her open palm toward Julian. "You lost, Julian. Hand over the card." Julian finally snapped out of it. His brows knitted tightly, and his face turned grim as he glared at me. "Over a damn game, you’re embarrassing me in front of all my friends?" I looked down at him. "So you realize how pathetic this looks." Julian gritted his teeth, snatched the black card off the table, and shoved it hard into Maya’s hand. Maya happily tucked the card into her designer bag, throwing me a taunting smirk. "Julian, you look like a sore loser." "Want another round? Double the stakes this time—forty grand." Julian kept a cold face, not answering. He had always been arrogant. Losing face publicly tonight made him seethe. Maya leaned in, whispering close to his ear. "Are you really that scared of Chloe?" That hit Julian's sore spot dead-on. He snapped upright, whipped another card from his wallet, and slammed it onto the glass table. "Fine. One more time. I refuse to believe she’s actually going through with a divorce." He glared daggers at me, his voice laced with warning. "Chloe, know when to stop. If you want to save face, you'd better think carefully about your answer this time." Looking at his smug face, convinced I was just playing hard to get, a wave of disgust washed over me. "No need to test anything. My answer is still divorce." Maya cheered again. "Julian, you lost again! Forty grand, please." Julian's expression darkened like thunder. He slapped his palm down on the card, glaring coldly at Maya. "The round hadn't even started. That doesn't count as a loss." "The first round was a heartbeat test. The second round has to be harder." Maya’s eyes sparkled, dripping with seduction. "Then let's do the blindfolded ice cube pass. Whoever drops the ice loses." As she spoke, she picked up an ice cube with the tongs and slipped it into her mouth. Julian glanced at me. Seeing me completely indifferent, he let out a scoff. "Since Maya is so eager, who am I to spoil the fun?" He picked up the scarf, tied it over his eyes, and slightly tilted his head back. I stood less than three feet away, feeling the blood in my veins freeze. They were actually going to engage in blatant infidelity right before my eyes. The next second, Maya stepped forward. She cupped Julian's face in both hands and pressed her crimson lips against his. The ice cube passed between their teeth and tongues, accompanied by sickening, wet sounds. Julian’s hand expertly slid around the back of Maya’s neck. Instead of pulling away, he deepened the pass into a full-blown kiss. Maya’s hemline hitched up to her upper thighs, and melting ice water soaked into Julian’s dress pants. Their practiced ease proved this was nowhere near the first time. Without a flicker of emotion, I took my phone out of my clutch and hit high-definition video recording. The camera steadily locked onto the two figures tangled on the couch. The surrounding friends shifted uncomfortably, exchanging awkward glances. Someone tried to step forward to stop me. I cast a razor-sharp glare at him, and he instantly froze in his tracks. I recorded for two full minutes, until the ice had completely melted between their mouths. Maya pulled back, catching her breath, and wiped the moisture from her lips. Julian ripped off the blindfold, his cheeks still flushed. He looked at me with open defiance. "Chloe, are you satisfied now?" I pressed stop, saved the video, put my phone back into my purse, and turned toward the cabin exit. "Enjoy yourselves. I'm going home." Maya called out after me in a drawn-out, whiny tone. "Chloe, don't be such a party pooper! We're family!" I didn't look back. Leaving the yacht, the biting sea breeze hit my face. I immediately backed up the video across three separate cloud drives. Then, I dialed a familiar number. "Attorney Davis, sorry to call so late." "I'm filing for divorce. I have the evidence ready." On the other end, Rachel Davis's voice was crisp and professional. "Understood, Chloe. Start compiling a list of assets immediately, especially any jointly owned businesses." After hanging up, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Maya. In the photo, Julian leaned against the sofa, his tie loosened and askew. The caption read: [Julian says younger bodies just have so much more stamina.] Staring at the screen, a cold smile tugged at the corner of my lips. The real game was just beginning.The yacht party didn't wrap up until late into the night. Instead of heading back to our penthouse downtown, I took a cab straight to the hillside estate. This property was pre-marital property inherited from my grandfather, and technically our primary residence. Once home, I pulled every document out of the safe. Deeds, trust agreements, bank statements, and the original mortgage agreement where I pledged this very estate to secure Julian’s startup loan. I photographed and cataloged every single original page. I used to believe marriage meant sharing everything. What was his was mine, so I never kept score. I had even walked away from my own burgeoning art career to handle all his company's internal operations behind the scenes. I had poured my youth and talent into becoming the stepping stone beneath his feet. Looking back now, I was pathetic. At 2:00 AM, the electronic front lock chimed. Julian and Maya walked in, one after the other. Both reeked of alcohol. Maya was still in her slip dress from the yacht, with Julian’s suit jacket draped over her shoulders. Seeing me sitting on the living room carpet sorting through files, Julian paused. "What the hell are you doing in the middle of the night?" He yanked his tie off, his tone dripping with irritation. I ignored him, sliding another contract into a waterproof folder. Maya strutted over in her heels, deliberately pulling Julian’s jacket tighter around herself. "Chloe, are you really throwing a tantrum? Today was your anniversary. Julian was just playing along with me. Who are you putting on this sour face for?" I stopped what I was doing and looked up at her coldly. "You had your fun, and I watched the show. Now, get the hell out of my house." Maya’s face froze, and her eyes instantly welled up with tears. She looked at Julian with an aggrieved pout. "Julian, look at her... How could she talk to me like that?" Julian stormed over, stepping directly in front of Maya to shield her while glaring down at me. "Chloe, have you lost your mind? Maya is your sister! Where do you expect her to go at two in the morning?" "This bitter, spiteful attitude of yours makes me sick." Watching him act like her white knight, my heart didn't even ripple. "She has two legs. She can go to a hotel, or she can sleep on the sidewalk. It's none of my business." "I'll only say this once: this is my house. You two leave right now, or I'm calling security to throw you out." Julian scoffed in disbelief and kicked the coffee table beside him. "Your house? I spent over a million dollars renovating this place! Every single piece of furniture in here was handpicked by me! Now you're drawing lines between what's yours and mine?" I stood up, meeting his furious glare. The renovation of this house was another dagger in my heart. I had originally wanted a warm French country style, filled with sunlight and lush greenery. Julian claimed he was a minimalist with neat-freak tendencies and hated clutter. So, I compromised. The entire villa had been redone in cold, stark black-and-white minimalism. When I wanted to hang my own oil paintings in the living room, he said the colors were too loud and ruined the vibe. Instead, he hung an overpriced abstract piece he bought at an auction. Time and time again, I conceded, turning my own home into his sterile showroom. "A million dollars for renovations, right?" I asked calmly. "Tomorrow, my lawyer will calculate the depreciation and wire the remaining value into your account." Julian froze, clearly stunned that I was being so ruthlessly clinical. "What are you talking about?" "Exactly what I said." I picked up my phone and dialed my real estate broker. "Leo, sorry for calling so late. That hillside estate? I'm listing it." "Yes, as fast as possible. Price isn't the priority, but it must be an all-cash buyer. You can bring clients for showings starting tomorrow." I had put the call on speaker, and Leo's thrilled voice echoed clearly through the silent living room. Julian's face drained of color. He lunged forward to snatch my phone. I took half a step back and ended the call. "Chloe! Are you insane? This is our marital home!" He roared at me, panic finally creeping into his voice. "Not for much longer." I turned around and pulled out the suitcase I had already packed. "My attorney will contact you tomorrow. You can negotiate the terms of the divorce with her."