Chapter 1
570words
Brad roared like a madman blinded by his losses.
I stood in the corner, instinctively hugging myself. The cheap evening dress I wore was too thin to block out the cold air of the casino—just as it couldn't shield me from the chill in my heart.
He lost again.
The man who had promised me "Scarlett, don't be afraid, I'll take care of you" five years ago was now on his knees, betting away our last house deed.
Five years ago, when I thought my ex had "sold me off" and I felt as worthless as a dirty rag, Brad was the one who had "rescued me."
I thought he was my salvation.
I thought even if I was drowning in filth, at least this filth would be warm.
But reality had other plans.
For five years, he drank and gambled. And whenever he lost money, his fists found their way to my body.
I gingerly touched my ribs where a dull ache persisted—a fresh bruise from his drunken rage last night.
"Mr. Miller, you have nothing left."
The dealer rapped his knuckles on the table.
The man in the silver mask spoke, his voice as cold as winter wind through a crypt.
"No! I do! I still have something!"
Brad leaped to his feet, his bloodshot eyes darting frantically around the room.
Until they locked onto me.
In that moment, my blood turned to ice.
I knew that look all too well.
Greed.
Madness.
Something entirely inhuman.
"Scarlett! Get over here!"
He lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of my hair.
Dragging me toward the gambling table like I was nothing but garbage.
"Brad, please... it hurts..."
I struggled weakly, tears welling in my eyes, but I didn't dare cry out.
Crying only made him hit harder.
"Shut up!" Brad's hand cracked across my face.
Crack!
The sharp sound momentarily silenced the rowdy gamblers around us.
I collapsed against the edge of the table.
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
"This is my wife! Scarlett! Former Miss Wisconsin!"
Brad shoved my head down, displaying my face to the mysterious casino owner with sickening pride.
"She's obedient and a real firecracker in bed! Five years with me and her body's still perfect! I'm betting her!"
"For fifty grand... no, make it a hundred thousand! Just give me the chips!"
Something inside me died completely.
I once thought he was my salvation.
But now?
He was just shoving me deeper into hell.
I had no fight left in me.
Shame crawled over my skin like fire ants.
I closed my eyes, bracing for more degrading insults or another blow.
I thought, what does it matter anymore?
Since that night five years ago, I've never felt clean anyway.
If I died here tonight, maybe it would finally bring release.
Maybe I should use that shard of broken glass in my pocket.
At least slitting my wrists would let me die on my own terms.
"Interesting."
The masked dealer let out a dark chuckle.
His laugh was deep, laced with unmistakable contempt.
"In this world, are people really used as gambling chips?"
He rose to his full height, his black suit making him an imposing, terrifying figure.
He tossed a black American Express Centurion Card in front of Brad like scraps to a stray dog.
"No need to gamble. I'll buy her outright."
