Chapter 8: The Bluff

“Hey, you’re buying dinner? What’s up?”

As the family argued nonstop, and my stepsister started to waver, I quickly faked a phone call.

Since nobody was really listening, I kept up the act.

“Your mom found a rich husband in Dubai?”

All three of them turned to look at me.

I kept going: “Tell your mom not to go—Dubai’s not safe, there’s scams everywhere.”

“What? Your mom’s already married over there? And gave you five million dollars?”

“So that’s why you’re treating me? Five million bucks—almost like winning the lottery!”

“Wait, I get to pick the restaurant. Okay, call me later.”

I hung up. All three of them stared, suspicious and shocked.

I smiled, trying to sound casual. “My friend’s really pretty—used to be a print model. She met a Dubai tycoon through Instagram, just met up a few days ago.”

“My little prince is from Instagram too!” my stepsister squealed.

I nodded. “Exactly. Dubai guys love American girls, especially tall, elegant ones.”

I watched my stepmother glance down at herself, sizing up her own looks.

Then she lunged. “Give me your phone—I want to see which friend it is. I want proof.”

Her sudden move caught me off guard. I was just bluffing—who knew she’d call me on it?

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the power button. If she saw my texts, I was dead. But if I didn’t hand it over, she’d never believe me. Either way, the game was on.