As Don Julian Vitale's woman, I've accompanied him every step of the way, from the streets all the way to the peak.

It all starts because I don't like the way Julian's god-sister, Milena Santoro, uses so much force in dressing my wounds that I've dismissed her in favor of other people.

The next day, my explicit photos are plastered all over the underground casino's chips.

I clutch my abdomen, which still sports the stab wound I've blocked for Julian. As I search for him, I end up overhearing his subordinates' lewd laughter outside a private room.

"Winona sure is hot, Don Vitale! Now that her body's printed all over the chips, our luck has tremendously increased as well!"

"That's not it! Previously, Don Vitale rewarded me by letting me grope Winona's chest! Because of that, I was able to seal a business deal that's worth tens of millions of dollars!"

"Then again, Don Vitale, won't Winona get into a fight with you for spreading her explicit photos like this?"

Julian puffs out some smoke while toying with a casino chip with my crotch printed on it.

"She's just a plaything whom Lady Luck favors. Without my protection, she's even lower than a mutt. Besides, she's nothing compared to Milena, and yet she has the gall to complain about how much force Milena uses in dressing her wounds?"

As the crotch-imprinted chip is flung onto the table carelessly, I feel my heart dying once and for all.

Inside the private room, a man who had clearly won big grabbed a chip stamped with the image of my thigh. He stuck out his tongue and licked it obscenely.

"Damn, this is something else. I've just licked Winona Lombardi's thigh, and my luck's already turning. I just don't know when I'll get to push this slut down and really have my way with her."

Julian Vitale's voice drifted over lazily from inside the room. "What's the rush? Everyone will get their turn. A woman like that just needs someone to crook a finger at her, and she'll strip herself naked and crawl over on her own."

Laughter echoed from around them.

Another voice chimed in, one I had never heard before, "Honestly, Winona is so obedient. You can make her do whatever you want in bed. None of my mistresses can compare to her. Don Vitale, if you get tired of her, why don't you pass her my way?"

"Exactly. Just letting us watch isn't nearly enough. Every time I see her, I can't help myself, especially when I think about how fragile she looked right after the miscarriage. It's driving me insane."

A chill crept up my spine.

When Julian had been ambushed by a rival family, I had miscarried while trying to protect him.

I remembered that day vividly.

The hospital sheets had been soaked through with blood. He'd held my hand with red-rimmed eyes.

He'd said, "Winona, I'm sorry. I swear I'll never let you suffer like this again. I'll protect you."

As it turned out, this was what his protection amounted to—sending me straight into his buddies' beds.

Thinking about it now, I realized those photos must have been taken when I was at my weakest.

I clenched my fists and tried to rush forward, but two men in black blocked me at the door without budging. "Ms. Lombardi, you can't go in without Don Vitale's permission."

The wound on my abdomen was still bleeding through my dress.

Yesterday, Julian was ambushed on the road, and I had stepped forward without thinking, taking the knife that was meant for him.

He immediately drove me to the hospital where his god-sister, Milena Santoro, worked.

When we arrived, despite meeting me for the first time, Milena targeted me at every turn. She deliberately poured an excessive amount of alcohol over my wound and roughly prodded the injured area.

The pain made my whole body tremble as I begged her to be gentler.

She looked at me innocently and said, "Winona, it's going to hurt if you want the wound to be thoroughly disinfected."

I couldn't take it anymore, so I made up an excuse to send her away and had another nurse dress the wound.

When I told Julian about it, he immediately promised he would reprimand Milena.

Yet the very next day, he had my explicit photos printed onto gambling chips, all to vent Milena's anger.

I finally snapped. I shoved the two bodyguards aside and barged in.

The crash of the door silenced the private room instantly.

Every pair of eyes turned toward me.

Julian was seated on the couch in the center of the room, with Milena nestled against him.

I thought that when he saw the blood staining my dress, he might show even a trace of concern for me. After all, I had been injured because of him.

Instead, he merely frowned.

"Didn't they treat you yesterday? Why are you still bleeding? Go clean it up before you come back in. Don't ruin the vibe here."

One of his men picked up a chip stamped with my chest and tossed it casually in his hand.

"Don Vitale, just looking at photos isn't enough. Now that Winona is here, when do we get to have some fun?"

My entire body went rigid as I stared straight at Julian.

I remembered that a year ago, at a gathering just like this, a drunk newcomer had cracked a similar joke.

Julian had smashed a glass over his head on the spot and had him dragged out. The man's tongue was cut out.

Afterward, Julian had wrapped an arm around me and said, "No one gets to look at my woman."

This time, however, Julian looked completely indifferent.

He took a slow sip of his drink and said calmly, "If you win 100 million dollars, what's wrong with lending her to you for one night?"

My heart skipped a beat.

Milena covered her mouth in feigned surprise. "Winona, don't be mad. Julian's only doing this for your own good. He just wants you to get closer to everyone.

"After all, aside from being lucky, it seems like you don't really help Julian much anymore."

She reduced me to nothing with just a few words.

From the days when he was still a Picciotto hauling cargo at the dock, to now, when he sat at the top of the entire underworld, we had spent four years together, risking our lives through gunfire and bloodshed.

Yet to him, it was nothing more than a transaction that could be cashed out at any time.

My throat tightened, and not a single word of accusation could come out.

I turned to leave, intending to contact my Papa and Mamma, who were still abroad.

Just as I took my first step, Julian's voice rang out behind me.

"Stop. Who said you could leave?"

I didn't stop.

The two bodyguards immediately rushed forward, grabbed my arms, and dragged me back. The force pulled at the wound on my abdomen, and it split open instantly.

I sucked in a sharp breath as cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

They forced me down beside the gambling table, leaving me utterly disheveled.

Julian strode over at an unhurried pace and looked down at me.

He reached out and brushed my cheek with his fingertips. Then, he suddenly pinched my chin hard enough that it felt like my bones might crack.

His voice was ice cold. "Milena's hands just slipped when she was dressing your wound, and you kicked her out for that? Winona Lombardi, where did you get the nerve?"

"She did it on purpose—"

I tried to explain, but he didn't listen.

He grabbed a stack of photos from the table and flung them straight at my face. They scattered across the floor. Every single one was an original image used for the chips.

There were intimate angles, even photos of me posed while unconscious.

"Since you're so precious, let everyone take a good look and see exactly how much your body is worth."

He pointed toward the dealer's seat and coldly ordered, "Go deal the cards."

I stared at him in disbelief. "You want me to personally deal cards to the men who are eyeing my body? With chips that have my photos printed on them?"

He smiled. "You should feel honored."

The bodyguards forced me into the dealer's seat. I personally handed out chips stamped with my own body, one by one, to the men at the table.

As they took them, they whispered filthy remarks and reached out, pretending to take cards while actually touching me.

Every time I pulled my hand back, it sparked a round of laughter.

I thought Julian would rein them in, or at least preserve the last shred of dignity I had as the Don's wife, but reality proved me wrong.

Milena walked over and tugged gently at Julian's sleeve. Her face was full of concern.

"Julian, this doesn't seem right. Winona will be upset."

For a moment, I thought she had found her conscience.

Then, she changed her tune. "But Winona always acts so aloof. We all thought she was above all these things, but seeing her in this state makes her feel much more approachable."

She even flashed me a sweet smile afterward.

I refused to let the tears burning in my eyes fall and continued dealing. My face was completely blank.

I couldn't understand why Julian was doing this to me.

We had known each other since he was still a Picciotto. When we were dating, he treated me with meticulous care, and everyone envied me.

After we got married, my Papa transferred several critical smuggling routes and casino operations in Triangolo d'Oro to him, in my name.

I gave him everything I had, turning him from a lowly Picciotto who could barely stand his ground into a man whose every move could shake the entire underworld.

I thought we were husband and wife and partners in battle.

Even when Julian said he wanted a child, even when it left me unconscious every time and led to multiple IVF attempts, I never complained.

I only forced my weakened body to keep responding to him under his disappointed gaze.

It wasn't until today that I realized he had been lying to me all along.

I lowered my head and looked at the wedding ring on my finger. Nausea rose in my throat.

Suddenly, Julian raised his glass and announced to the entire room, "Tonight, the biggest winner gets more than just the pot. They also get Winona's personal after-hours service for one night."

The room erupted in excitement.

I felt as if I had fallen into a pit of despair as I stared at him.

The smile on his face had never felt colder.

The atmosphere in the casino was pushed into a frenzy by that insane prize, and the chips piled higher and higher as everyone went red-eyed with greed.

At that moment, the door was pushed open again, and a man with a black eyepatch over his left eye walked in.

It was Domenico Carbone, Julian's sworn enemy.

"Don Vitale, you're in a generous mood tonight, using your own woman as a prize."

Domenico's leering gaze stayed locked on me.

"I hear she's a walking lucky charm. Whoever touches her gets rich. My luck's been awful lately, so I'd like to borrow her to turn things around."

He pulled out a chair and sat down without hesitation, openly declaring his intent to win me.

Julian's expression darkened.

I had long heard that no woman taken by Domenico ever met a good end.

My Papa and Mamma weren't back yet, and I hadn't seen them. I couldn't die.

Grabbing my last chance, I clutched Julian's sleeve. My voice shook. "Julian, don't do this. Have you forgotten who carried you out of that shipping container at the dock?"

That had been the first time we met. He was being hunted by enemies, burning with fever, and covered in blood as he hid in a rusted container.

I, a pampered young lady, had carried him for nearly two miles through the freezing wind and begged my Papa to gather men to save him.

I thought that reminding him of that debt would awaken even a trace of his former affection.

Instead, he flung my hand away violently.

"You're talking about that incident?" he scoffed.

"Everything you've eaten, worn, and used these past few years came from me. I paid that debt off a long time ago. If your old man weren't the Don of the Lombardi family, would I have needed to put up with you all these years?

"Now that he isn't in Athrasia, who do you think would dare protect the Lombardi family's precious princess?"

So, that was the real reason behind his revenge.

Not only did he refuse to back down from Domenico's provocation, but he also raised the stakes.

"Whoever wins takes her. I won't say a word."

In the end, Domenico won.

Grinning and revealing a mouthful of yellowed teeth, he made his demand in front of everyone.

"Pretty little thing, take off your clothes and let me inspect the goods. Let's see if the real thing matches what's on the chips."

I froze where I stood.

Julian looked at me coldly. "A bet's a bet. Don't embarrass me on my own turf."

Seeing no way out of this, I reached for the first button on my chest with trembling hands.

At that moment, Milena suddenly cried out as if she had lost her footing, and the red wine in her hand splashed all over me.

The thin fabric of my dress was soaked through, and the curves of my body showed faintly beneath it.

Lewd remarks echoed around me.

"She's so slutty. She makes me want to do her right here."

"Her breasts look mouth-watering."

I stood under the spotlight, exposed to every pair of eyes there.

Milena hurriedly pulled out tissues. "I'm sorry, Winona. I didn't mean to. My hand slipped…"

Julian grabbed her hand and gently wiped the wine from her fingers. "Were you startled? Your hands are so cold."

Seeing that hurt my eyes. My dignity was ground into the dirt, yet all he cared about was whether his god-sister's fingers were cold.

Domenico had already lost patience. He yanked me into his arms. I struggled desperately, only to be held even tighter.

Using the last of my strength, I looked toward Julian and prayed that, for the sake of everything I had done for him and the love I had once given him, he would help me.

Instead, he turned away, pinched Milena's cheek, and murmured something teasing to her. My plea for help earned nothing but his cold indifference.