Michele's voice pulled me back to reality.

"If she hadn't left all those years ago, the woman at my side would be a gambler. How could it be an angel like you? Tomorrow is our 99th day together, and I'm putting the most profitable strip club in Vallasia under your name."

Michele looked at Barbara with complete indulgence and pinched her cheek playfully.

Barbara laughed softly and leaned in to kiss him.

A sudden, stabbing pain tore through my side, forcing a sharp gasp from me. It was the scar I had carried for five years, left behind when I sold a kidney just to stay alive after I failed to repay my loan.

I looked away from their intimacy and turned to leave.

Barbara stopped me.

"Ms. Rossitto, Michele says he'll formally propose to me next month. I'd like to invite you."

Just as I was about to refuse, a debt collector swaggered over. "What are you still standing around for? Get to work. That loan from five years ago has been snowballing with interest. The number is insane now. If you can't pay next time, it won't be just one 'part' we take."

Michele's expression darkened instantly. "I never imagined you could fall this far. A proper path was right in front of you, but you chose to gamble. Alma, have you completely lost your mind just because you're broke?"

Michele was dressed in a tailored suit. Even his cufflinks cost as much as a sports car.

How nice.

He was no longer the broken man rotting away in a rented apartment.

I put on a familiar, ingratiating smile and sent the debt collectors away. Then, I looked back at Michele.

"Yes. I've gone mad from being poor. Don Giuliani, could you lend me a little more?"

"Oh my God, Ms. Rossitto really has had it rough since leaving you," Barbara said, leaning against Michele's shoulder.

Her eyes glistened with tears, but the look she gave me was pure mockery.

"If she hadn't betrayed you back then, you wouldn't have been fueled by resentment and clawed everything back in just five years," she said. "Michele, why don't you give her some money?"

Michele's gaze instantly turned cold at her words. He remembered too well how merciless I had been when I betrayed him, calling him a loser and leaving him alone in the rain all night.

In those five years, his own brothers had turned on him, allies had deceived him, and bullets had brushed past his scalp. Through it all, he had never wavered or given in.

He had only one goal, which was to climb to the very top and make me regret it.

The last flicker of feeling died in Michele's eyes, leaving only sheer indifference.

"A gambler's greed has no end. Money given to her would disappear like water poured into the sea."

He couldn't be bothered to spare me another glance. With an arm around Barbara, he turned and walked away.

My strength finally gave out, and I slid down the cold wall until I was sitting on the floor.

Blood had already soaked through the fabric at my side.

With trembling hands, I took out my phone and tried to call an ambulance. Before I could dial, another debt collection message popped up.

I shut the phone off.

At this point, I couldn't even afford a visit to a clinic.

As I watched Michele walk away, a soft, bitter laugh escaped me.

He had put out the word, promising a massive reward for the mysterious benefactor who had helped him when he hit rock bottom five years ago. He had no idea that person was me.

Five years ago, I had signed that loan contract, which was no different from selling myself. I even hired a third-rate actor to play a newly wealthy heir from another family.

I had looked at Michele with the coldest disdain and told him I only followed winners and money. He had lost everything and couldn't even afford to buy me a simple, decent necklace.

I told him I didn't want a life of fear by his side. All I wanted was a luxurious apartment and the freedom to indulge.

When the family fell apart and his father died, Michele didn't shed a single tear. Yet at that moment, his eyes reddened. He dropped all his pride, grabbed my arm, and pleaded in a choked voice for me not to leave.

I shrugged him off, linked arms with the actor, and stepped into the rain without looking back.

Over the past five years, I had grown used to debt collectors' threats and beatings. After losing a kidney, I couldn't handle high-intensity work anymore, and keeping up with repayments became impossible.

From that moment on, my fate was sealed. They would dismantle me and sell me piece by piece until every bit of value was drained. The moment I signed that contract, I accepted that I wouldn't have a good death.

What I hadn't expected was to see Michele again before that day. He now held immense power, living in near the same glory as the Giuliani family's prime.

The only difference was the woman at his side.

That was when I scrolled past some gossip from the underground world.

"New Don Spotted Kissing Girlfriend at Nightclub Kiss—Marriage Rumors Explode."

Envy ran through the comment section. People claimed this real-life drama outshone any movie.

Michele's success in both love and business should have comforted me. Instead, my eyes burned with a sharp sting. Just then, my phone rang.

"Ms. Rossitto? This is Barbara. Michele regrets it. He wants the 50 thousand dollars returned. If you refuse, he will sue you for extortion. The family's legal team isn't something you can afford to provoke. I am sorry, Ms. Rossitto. I tried to speak up for you, but Michele truly despises you now."

I gave a bitter smile, said nothing, and ended the call.

After standing there for a while, I dug a crumpled business card out of the trash and dialed the number. "Mr. Frattini? I agree to work at Club Luna."

I used to have my limits. I would rather wash dishes than step into a nightclub soaked in lust and neon.

Now that Michele hated me so deeply, he would probably take some satisfaction in knowing I was serving drinks in a nightclub for a measly sum.

With my battered body, it was the fastest way to earn money. If making a living meant staying alive, who would willingly wait to be torn apart piece by piece?

That night, I arrived at Club Luna. I endured the discomfort as I changed into the revealing uniform.

Balancing a tray in my hands, I pushed open the door to the assigned private room. Then I saw Michele, seated in the place of honor.

He wore a perfectly tailored black shirt, holding a costly cigar between his fingers. With his collar undone, the tattoo shimmered faintly in the shadows.

Barbara was draped in designer brands and glittering jewels from head to toe. A sparkling new diamond necklace rested at her throat.

Beyond the old tattoo, Michele's body showed no trace of her.

I stole a quick glance. Then, I lowered my eyes, set down the tray, and turned to leave.

In the noisy private room, Michele was too busy feeding Barbara fruit to notice me. Barbara, however, noticed me immediately. "Wait. Open the wine first."

I had no choice but to step closer and grab the corkscrew. It was my first day, and I was clumsy. I tried several times, but each attempt failed. Michele's gaze swept over me, and he frowned.

My hands trembled, and I applied too much force. The cork flew straight into Barbara.

She screamed and slapped me, sending me crashing to the floor.

"Do you even know how to do anything properly? This dress is custom-made. Even if I sold you, it wouldn't cover the cost!"

Furious, she grabbed the bottle and swung it toward me. I instinctively curled up to protect my head, but the pain never came.

When I opened my eyes, Michele had caught her wrist.

He took the bottle from her hand, looking at her with indulgence. "It's not worth getting angry over trash like this. It's just a dress. Tomorrow, I'll buy the entire brand and give it to you."

He looked down at me, and I trembled from head to toe. His eyes flickered with something unreadable before a mocking smile spread across his face.

"Are you mute?" he asked. "Don't you know how to talk? These people are all my friends, and each of them is wealthy. If you stay silent, how do you expect to tempt them into tipping you?"

Barbara immediately ripped off my mask and laughed. "Ms. Rossitto? How did you end up here? I've always been grateful to you. If you hadn't given up Michele, I'd never have met him. If you're struggling, you should have asked me for help instead of putting yourself out here."

The private room fell silent for a moment, then erupted into laughter and whistles.

"After Michele went under, I heard she hooked up with some rich nobody. Well, at least she's got something to offer."

"Why don't you stick with me from now on, sweetheart? I can offer you what Michele failed to give you five years ago."

"Nice body. Shame it's been used. I'll give you five thousand dollars a week. Does that sound good?"

Laughter filled the room as their hostile gazes roamed over me. I couldn't tell who reached for me first, but soon more hands were groping at my legs.

"Don't touch me!" I cried, trying to pull away. The tear in my abdomen burned through me, making it impossible to get away from their hands.

A flash of derision crossed Michele's eyes. "Alma, what are you playing at? Are you dodging this slowly just to play hard to get?"

At his words, the hands groping me came to a halt.

He shot me a piercing look. "Are you really trying to make some quick money? Out of respect for what we had, I'll let you," he said, unconsciously tracing the skin beneath his tattoo.

He patted a bald, overweight man on the shoulder. "Antonio, you helped me when I was at my lowest. Today, I'll give you a gift."

With that, he tossed a stack of bills at my feet. The edges scraped across my skin, leaving faint cuts.

"If you keep Mr. Esposito satisfied tonight, Alma, all of this belongs to you," he said with a sneer.

Laughter and cheers filled the room as everyone applauded Michele for being generous enough to introduce his ex to Antonio.

I knew Antonio Esposito. He was an infamous sadist and always came up with fresh ways to torture his victims.

I looked straight at Michele. "If I take care of him, does that mean I don't owe you the 50 thousand dollars?"

His eyes flared with anger for a moment before he hissed, "You don't."

I forced a smile and stepped forward, looping my arms around Antonio's neck.

He eagerly grabbed my waist, reeking of alcohol. The stench made me gag, but I forced a smile through it.

"Mr. Esposito," I said sweetly. "Shall we move somewhere a little more private?"

"Of course, sweetheart! Call me Daddy, and I'll take care of you," he slurred, lifting me up and striding toward the door.

"Enough!" A crash sounded as Michele smashed a wine glass.

He stormed forward, yanking me out of Antonio's grasp.

"Alma, for money, you'd put up with this filth?" he roared, staring at me with bloodshot eyes.

I nodded. "Yes. For money, I can do anything."

Michele slammed me onto the couch with pure rage. "Fine! Then serve me, and I'll pay you!"

He grabbed me and kissed me savagely. I bit his tongue and forced him back. "Pay first, Michele. I don't come cheap. 500 thousand dollars for the night."

He froze. Finally, he believed I was a woman who would sell herself for money.

He flung me to the floor, growling, "Get out! You disgust me!"

Pain lanced through my abdomen as my wound tore open again.

I couldn't lift myself. The carpet was soaked in my blood. From my pocket, a donation receipt from five years ago slipped out, landing at Michele's feet.