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.

Domenico dragged me out of that nauseating private room. His grip was rough and careless.

As we passed Julian, I said quietly, "Julian, you'll regret this."

At those words, he finally tore his gaze away from Milena's face, though he did not attempt to conceal the mockery in his eyes.

He probably thought it was nothing more than a powerless curse, the last flare of my anger.

What he didn't know was that every narrow escape he had survived over the years was due to my family's influence and my own uncanny luck.

Domenico took me into the adjacent lounge, shut the door behind us, and locked it.

Grinning lewdly, he closed in on me. The stench of smoke on him made my stomach churn.

"Don't be scared, sweetheart. I'll make sure you're well taken care of tonight."

The moment his filthy hand reached toward me, I twisted sharply to the side. He hadn't expected resistance and ended up lunging at nothing.

A second later, his expression turned vicious as he threw himself at me again.

He grabbed my shoulder and slammed me into the wall. Pain exploded at the back of my head.

Just as he craned his neck forward, intent on violating me, I gathered all my strength and drove my foot straight into his groin.

Domenico let out a shrill scream and collapsed, curling up on the floor in agony.

"You bitch!" he snarled. "I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do!"

Ignoring the pain, he reached out and grabbed my ankle. Startled, I kicked wildly with my other foot, striking his face again and again.

When he still refused to let go, I seized the glass ashtray beside me and smashed it down on his forehead.

His body stiffened, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious.

I didn't dare spare him another glance. I scrambled over his body and rushed to the window.

This was the seventh floor, and jumping from this height meant certain death.

Just as despair set in, my phone vibrated with a message.

"Surprise, sweetie. I came back early. I'll be there in five minutes."

It was Papa.

He had been worried about my safety and had modified my phone with a tracker.

…

Back in the private room, Julian's gambling continued.

From the moment I was taken away, his luck plummeted. Either he was dealt abysmal hands, or his opponents landed perfect ones.

In barely ten minutes, not only did he fail to win back the territory in the east of the city, but he also lost several of his most critical docks.

Milena hovered anxiously at his side, trying to comfort him. "Julian, don't panic. Luck always turns around eventually."

Flustered, she reached for a bottle to pour him a drink, but stumbled and knocked it over instead.

Wine splattered across the documents on the table.

They were the original ledgers of all Julian's overseas accounts and laundering channels, the one thing that would've allowed him to rise again even if he lost everything.

Now, they were ruined.

In the midst of the chaos, the door was shoved open.

A subordinate stumbled in, nearly falling over himself.

"Don Vitale, something's wrong! There's been a sudden police inspection. The underground armory at the dock has been discovered!"

Julian flew into a rage and kicked over the gambling table. He roared instinctively, "Where's Winona? Bring her here to turn my luck around!"

The man trembled as he answered, barely steadying himself. "M-Ms. Lombardi is gone. Domenico was found unconscious in the next room. His head was covered in blood."

Julian's heart lurched. A wave of panic he had never felt before swallowed him whole.

He rushed into the next room. Inside, only Domenico lay sprawled on the floor, barely conscious, and a single custom chip bearing my image remained.

Julian picked up the chip and stared at my image etched into it.

"Find her!" he barked. "Turn the world upside down if you have to. Just bring her back to me!"

…

After unlocking the door, I hid in the emergency stairwell, shaking uncontrollably. My wound reopened during the struggle. Blood was seeping out, and I was soaked with it.

Just then, my phone vibrated. It was Papa calling.

"Winona, I'm downstairs. I'm coming to get you now."

I clutched the phone, and my voice broke as I said, "Papa, hurry."

The moment I hung up, hurried footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. It was one of Julian's subordinates.

"There she is! She's over here!"

I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. Every step tore at my wound. The pain nearly made me collapse, but I couldn't stop.

At the turn of the stairs, Leonardo Bianchi caught up to me, yanked my hair, and slammed me hard against the wall. The pull on my abdomen sent my vision swimming with pain.

"Ms. Lombardi, do you really think you're still that pampered princess from back then? Without Don Vitale, you're worthless. You'd better do exactly what Don Vitale says tonight, or you'll regret it!"

Despair flooded my chest, inch by inch.

Just as I was about to give in, the elevator doors opened. Papa stormed out with more than a dozen men behind him.