They Gambled With My Body, My Papa Bet Their Lives

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?"