While I was away on business, my wife's kept boy moved right into the Gilbert estate—bold as brass. He wore my clothes, drank my vintage wines, and had the audacity to think he could climb into my bed and sleep with my wife.

What he didn't count on was my mother catching him in the act. She called me back immediately. I had my men strip him naked and break one of his legs before tossing him out like garbage.

When my wife found out, she didn't blame me. Instead, she slapped herself across the face and apologized. "I'm so sorry, darling. I only helped him because I pitied him. I never imagined he'd try to take your place—he nearly caused a disaster. I'll have him driven out of the city myself. He'll never set foot here again."

Since she'd admitted her mistake so readily, I forgave her. And she didn't disappoint—she played the role of the perfect wife flawlessly.

Until six months later.

I drank the wine she handed me. The moment it touched my lips, my body gave out, and I collapsed onto the bed.

When I opened my eyes again, I was bound to a chair. My mother was locked in an iron cage. And my dear wife sat with her legs crossed, one arm draped around her little boy toy, watching as her men threw water on my mother.

"Your mother loves running her mouth, doesn't she?" May Harding's voice was silk over steel. "And you—you enjoyed stripping someone naked, didn't you?"

"Well then, let's play a little game. A wager. If you lose..." She smiled. "Your mother gets stripped bare and thrown to a crowd of lonely, desperate men."

——

The cage door swung open. A man stepped inside, grabbed my mother by the arm, and backhanded her across the face.

"Don't you dare touch her!" I roared, straining against the ropes. "May, what the hell do you want?"

May looked at me like I was the funniest thing she'd seen all day. Then her expression softened as she traced her fingers over the place where I'd broken Mark Delgado's leg. When she spoke again, her voice was ice.

"Justice for Mark, of course. Whatever you did to him that day—I'm going to pay you back double."

"Pay me back?" A bitter laugh escaped me. "So you've been in love with this pretty boy all along. Is that it?"

"Yes."

The word hit like a blade.

So that was it. Six months of devotion, of being the perfect wife—all of it was an act. She'd been biding her time, waiting for me to let my guard down before she struck.

But I never thought she'd drag my mother into this. Never thought she'd make her suffer too.

Mark limped toward me, hatred burning in his eyes. Each uneven step reminded me of what I'd done to him. He stopped in front of my chair and drove his fist into my face.

"Kerry Gilbert." He spat my name like a curse. "You broke my leg. Made me a cripple. So now I'm going to take my time—torturing you and your mother, piece by piece. Just you wait."

I glared at them both, fury boiling in my veins. "May. You kidnapped us. Brought us here against our will. That's a crime. You know what I'm capable of. The moment I get out of here, I'm divorcing you and leaving you with nothing—"

"Ha!" May threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Kerry. Kerry, Kerry, Kerry. I stopped being afraid of you a long time ago. These past six months? I've been busy. Your company? Mine now. Your shareholders?" She gestured lazily. "Bought and paid for. Every last one of them."

My eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

May clapped her hands, still grinning. The door opened, and a line of familiar faces filed in.

My shareholders. All of them.

"What is this?" I demanded. "What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" one of them sneered. "We're backing her now. You're done."

"May." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "How dare you. When your family was ruined, who saved you? I did. The Gilberts pulled you out of nothing. And now you betray me—for him? For this worthless kept man?"

If I weren't tied to this chair, I would have launched myself at them. I would have beaten them both to death with my bare hands.

The fury churned inside me, rising and rising, impossible to suppress.

And the more I raged, the more May and Mark reveled in it. Their eyes glittered with sick satisfaction.

"Oh, one more thing I forgot to mention." May leaned forward, her smile sharpening. "We're in international waters. There's no law here. No police. No rescue." She tilted her head. "So if you want to save your nosy, meddlesome mother... you'll have to gamble for her. Against us. To the bitter end."

2

I stared at the woman I had once cherished with everything I had, and a wave of bitter self-mockery washed through me.

This was the woman I'd loved with my life. She had turned herself into a blade and driven it straight through my heart.

"Oh my, would you look at that! Kerry's eyes are turning red—he must really love you, May!"

"Ha! Too bad his precious May threw him away ages ago. And now she's the one who set him up."

Mark's mocking laughter rang out, and then he splashed his wine directly into my face.

"Pathetic. Back then, I drank a few extra glasses of your wine, and you tried to kill me for it." He leaned closer, sneering. "Now look at you—a dead fish strapped to a board, waiting to be gutted."

May watched me, amusement dancing in her eyes as she took in my humiliated, wine-soaked face. "Why are you looking at us like that? We're simply giving you a taste of your own medicine."

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "I'd say I'm being generous, really. I didn't break your legs. I'm giving you a chance to win your way out."

The moment she said it, the shareholders who had betrayed me—along with every gambler in the room—erupted into laughter.

"Win his way out? Him?" someone howled. "Ms. Harding brought in the new God of Gamblers just to face him!"

"That man has never lost. And Kerry's just a businessman—what chance does he have?"

"Ms. Harding's cruel, isn't she? Dangling hope in front of him, then snatching it away."

Only then did I understand.

Her so-called mercy—letting me gamble for freedom—was a poisoned blade from the start. She had already calculated that I would lose. That my mother would be stripped naked and thrown out like garbage. She had seized my company, left me with nothing, and ensured I had no one to turn to for help.

Rage surged through me. I thrashed against my restraints, my voice tearing from my throat: "May! Ask yourself—ask your conscience—how did I ever treat you?!"

She let out a cold, derisive laugh. "Treat me? Oh, you treated me wonderfully."

Her smile sharpened. "But what does that have to do with anything? I never asked you to love me. You're old now, Kerry. Your body can't compare to a younger man's." She shrugged elegantly. "What, did you expect me to live like a widow for the rest of my life?"

Her words—so casual, so utterly heartless—made my fists clench until my knuckles went white. I forced the unprecedented fury down, burying it deep.

Then the door swung open.

A man strode in, his gaze sweeping over me with leisurely contempt. After a long, deliberate pause, he scoffed.

"Tch. Ms. Harding must think highly of you, getting me to play against a nobody like you."

"It's him! The new God of Gamblers!"

"Kerry Gilbert's finished."

May didn't bother standing. She simply watched me, thoroughly entertained.

"Kerry, I'll say it one more time. If you want you and your mother to leave here safely—beat him."

The room exploded.

Some laughed at the impossibility of me defeating a gambling legend. Others hurled insults—calling me a spineless cuckold, tied up and humiliated while my wife cuckolded me.

Through the jeering and the filth, I turned to look at my mother. Tears streamed down her face.

"Mom." My voice was hoarse but steady. "Don't worry. We're walking out of here. Together."

The words had barely left my mouth when the man guarding her received a nod from Mark.

He reached out and tore her outer garment away.

"Well, well! The old lady's still got it!"

"Look at that skin—smooth as silk. Could pass for twenty, I'd say."

"I'm placing my bet right now. They say experienced women have the most... enthusiasm."

"Ha! Count me in—betting on the God of Gamblers. When he wins, that woman's ours."

The vile, degrading words slithered into my ears. My mother's face crumpled—I saw her trying to bite down, trying to end it herself—but the man yanked her back, pinning her arms.

Every drop of color drained from my face.

There was nothing left to say. Begging May was pointless.

"Alright, let the game begin."

"Kerry, don't say I didn't give you a fighting chance—we'll play stud poker, your specialty."

As if I had any other choice. The power was entirely in May's hands. I was bound to the card table, with only one hand freed to hold my cards.

"Gentlemen, once this piece of trash loses, feel free to have your fun with his dear mother. I'll even throw in cash for drinks."

"Hell yeah!"

The room erupted into cheers again, every man leering at my mother like starving wolves circling wounded prey.

Mark sat beside the card shark, watching me with naked provocation in his eyes.

"Kerry, here are the rules: every hand you lose, we strip one piece of clothing off your mother."

"Haha! And if you don't—"

"Can we start?"

I refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

I knew exactly what Mark was doing. He wanted to toy with me, to shatter my nerves piece by piece, to drown me in fear and despair until I broke.

But reality left no room for dwelling. The dealer had already approached to deal the cards. Every man in the room rushed to place bets—all of them on Mark's side.

May swirled the red wine in her glass, watching the scene unfold with the calm certainty of someone who'd already won.

After the deal, I lifted my hand and checked my cards, flipping up the seven of hearts as my face card. My hole card would be my lifeline.

The shark's face card was the king of spades. He looked at me with undisguised contempt.

"Kerry, you'd better watch yourself."

The crowd craned their necks to see, laughing and clapping.

"I've got the high card. I'll call it—betting the second piece of clothing off that old hag."

I had no choice but to match. But May objected.

For a split second, I thought she'd had a change of heart. I was wrong.

"You don't have any stakes to gamble with! Sure, the company's mine now, but all that money you've squirreled away over the years isn't in my hands."

"So you'll have to put it up as collateral. No money to call? Then I suppose we'll just have to tear—"

She let the threat hang, her smile razor-thin.

My fists clenched until my knuckles went white.

Clever. So goddamn clever. Using my mother as a chip while forcing me to bet everything I had.

"I call."

"Hahaha! Like he's got a cent left to his name!"

I gave my bank account number directly to one of the staff to verify. Only after they confirmed my funds would they allow me to continue.

The dealer proceeded to the next round. I drew the seven of spades. The shark drew the six of clubs.

"High card's mine. I bet my mother's safety."

Mark sneered, utterly dismissive—as if no matter what I did, the outcome was already written.

The next card came. Mine was the ace of hearts. The shark's was the ace of spades.

Mark pushed half of the chips forward with a grin. "Half your entire fortune. You don't get a choice."

"Hahaha! Call or don't—either way, you're screwed!"

I looked at my mother. Tears streamed down her face as she choked out the words: "Son, just go! Don't do this for me—"

"Mom, it's okay."

I turned back to face them and called.

Fourth street. I drew the seven of clubs. The shark drew the ace of diamonds.

Mark lit a cigarette and took a slow drag, the ember glowing. "Kerry, you still dare to call?"

I stared at my pair of sevens, trusting my hole card to carry me through.

"Call."

"Show them."

I refused to believe they had three aces. I was willing to gamble everything.

But when the hole cards flipped—my three sevens crumbled against their three aces.

I slumped back against the chair, fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms.