My Dear Fiancé, It’s My Turn To Play the Dangerous Game

An odd tension settled over the casino.

Leo glanced around awkwardly, his eyes finally settling on the cold gleam of the revolver. He managed a strained smile. "Since the Principessa is in the mood, I'll be the referee."

He reached for the gun, but a long, slender hand pressed down on his.

Killian didn't even look at me. He was slouched languidly on the velvet sofa, one hand casually spinning the cylinder.

"No need," he said in a low voice. "Let's raise the stakes. Simple life and death is so boring."

Clara let out a coquettish laugh, nearly collapsing into his arms, the swell of her breasts brushing against the collar of his shirt.

"Then we'll do what Killian says."

I looked at the gun. It was my turn.

I caught a glimpse of the single bullet in the cylinder, and my heart began to race.

When my turn came, I prayed for an empty chamber.

I pulled the trigger. Click. The hammer fell on an empty chamber.

"Whoa, is Seraphina playing for real tonight?" A few lewd whistles came from the crowd.

I forced a smile, desperately maintaining my elegant facade. "Just for fun."

Click. An empty chamber.

I set the gun down, my palms slick with cold sweat.

After a few rounds, the tension at the table grew suffocating.

Killian seemed to find this level of excitement childish. His arrogance was bone deep, radiating a crushing sense of absolute control.

Clara noticed my anxiety and looked at me provocatively. "Sera, if you're not feeling well, you can just forfeit. Killian cares about you the most. He won't blame you."

My fingers dug into the fabric of my dress, my knuckles turning white.

I knew Killian was waiting for me to back down. Waiting for me to run from the room with red rimmed eyes, unable to bear the humiliation, just as I had for the past ten years.

Then, like placating a disobedient cat, he would magnanimously forgive my "immaturity."

An icy coldness spread through me, as if I'd been plunged into the deep sea.

I watched the entangled pair across from me.

Killian's hand was no longer hidden. It roamed freely, disappearing deep beneath the high slit of Clara's dress.

"Continue," I said calmly.

Killian raised an eyebrow, giving me a surprised look.

Another round.

The odds were stacking against me. With each pull of the trigger, the chances of hitting an empty chamber dwindled.

The pressure was now squarely on me.

Clara covered her mouth and giggled. "Sera, just give up. Killian doesn't want to see you lose too badly. After all, you're the face of the Russo family."

All eyes focused on me, the whispers growing more venomous.

"What is Seraphina thinking, challenging Killian's authority at a time like this?"

"Please, everyone in our circle knows the Russo princess has been obsessed with the Falcone heir for years. She barely dares to speak above a whisper around him. She must think getting engaged gives her the right to act like the matriarch."

"Give me a break. A man like Killian is never going to settle down. He's just playing with her."

My right hand clenched into a fist, my nails digging into my palm.

Ever since I was fourteen, when a blood-soaked Killian saved me from a rival family, I had been chasing his shadow.

I didn't care about any of the taunts or ridicule.

All I wanted was Killian.

But tonight was our engagement party. Watching him trample my dignity to amuse another woman, I felt none of the passion and anticipation I once had.

"I'm in."

This time, I was betting my life.

I pulled the trigger again. It was another empty chamber, but I hadn't won.

Because Killian didn't pick up the gun. He simply lifted his chin and said to Clara, "You can have my turn."

The room erupted.

As expected of the most ruthless heir in the underworld, he had handed the chance of survival, the very power to control the game, directly to this woman.

He let out a low, ambiguous laugh, his eyes full of mockery.

"Here I go, then," Clara said, closing her eyes. She gripped the gun with both hands and pulled the trigger wildly, aiming at the ceiling.

Click. Another empty chamber.

She was lucky.

"Looks like God is on my side," Clara blew a kiss at me. "A bet's a bet, my dear Sera."

Whispers rippled through the onlookers.

"Looks like the Russo princess is in for it tonight."

"It's her own fault for trying to show off and going against Killian."

With a final shred of hope, I stared at Killian, waiting for him to step in and stop this. He knew exactly what kind of unreasonable demand Clara would make.

But he just glanced at me coolly, a cigar held between his fingers. His expression was unreadable through the swirling smoke. He said nothing.

The last ember of hope inside me died. This, I thought, is the man you've loved for so long.

My face was pale, but I remained silent.

Leo was wiping away cold sweat, trying one last time to intervene. "Alright, alright, let's just call this one a draw. Everyone has a drink and we'll call it a night..."

"Wait." Clara suddenly spoke, cutting Leo off.

"If I remember correctly, I won this round."

She drew out her words. "According to our rules, the winner can order the loser to do anything. Right, Killian?"

Killian blew out a smoke ring and nodded nonchalantly.

No one dared to speak. The atmosphere was stretched to its breaking point.

The smile on Clara's lips widened. "In that case, I order Seraphina..."