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.
