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.
