He Destroyed Me—Then Proposed at Gunpoint Seven Years Later

Dominic once told me he loved me—then leaked my intimate photos to the entire school, all to avenge his dead first love.

Seven years later, he discovered that I had given birth to his son, a child suffering from a failing heart.

He ended his engagement, found our son a donor heart, dragged everyone who had ever hurt me to my feet, and finally proposed as death closed in on him.

I put on the wedding dress and became Mrs. Moretti with a smile.

But he never knew that I had returned to his side for anything but love.

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Rafael called me in to cover the VIP table while I was crouched outside the break room, talking to my son.

“Eli, did you finish your homework? Get to bed early, okay? Don’t wait up for me.”

His sleepy voice came through the phone. “Are you going to be late again, Mommy?”

My throat tightened. I made myself sound cheerful. “The casino’s busy tonight. I’ll make a little extra, and tomorrow I’ll bring you a cake.”

I ended the call, drew a breath, and pushed open the door to the private lounge.

Low amber lights gleamed over green felt. Chips clicked steadily across the table. Every seat except the one reserved at the head of the table was occupied.

Rafael caught my elbow and steered me toward the dealer’s chair.

“The Don himself is here,” he whispered. “You make one mistake, you won’t walk out of this casino in one piece.”

His hand slid around my waist before I could pull away. “And keep it discreet. His fiancée is with him.”

I swallowed my disgust and took my place.

The moment I touched the cards, I felt someone watching me.

I looked up and forgot how to breathe.

Rafael pulled out a chair with theatrical respect. Dominic Moretti sat down without hurry, as if the whole room had been waiting for him to permit it to move.

Seven years had stripped away the reckless boy I remembered. The man in his place was controlled, polished, and dangerous enough to quiet a room by lifting his eyes.

Those eyes stayed on me.

Beside him sat a young woman in a silver evening gown. She rested one manicured hand on his sleeve as if she belonged there.

I had imagined seeing Dominic again more times than I wanted to admit. Never like this.

One of the guests reached across the table. His fingers brushed mine and lingered.

“You’ve been hiding this one, Don Moretti. She makes every actress in town look ordinary.”

Rafael laughed too quickly. “Mr. Romano, if she’s caught your eye, I’ll have her sent to your room after the game.”

He squeezed my waist. “She’s very accommodating.”

I kept dealing.

Men like Rafael depended on silence. They mistook it for consent because that made their lives easier.

Dominic finally spoke.

“Is this a casino or a brothel?”

His gaze traveled over me with deliberate contempt.

“Do I employ dealers or whores?”

The room went still. Rafael’s grin collapsed.

For one foolish second, I thought Dominic might have stopped it.

Then he leaned back.

“Save that talk for after hours. My fiancée is sitting right here.”

The woman beside him tugged lightly at his sleeve. “It’s fine. I’ve always wondered what a real casino was like.”

Dominic smiled at her. It was a soft smile, one I remembered too well.

“If Bianca doesn’t mind, carry on.”

His eyes returned to me.

“Tonight, everyone leaves satisfied.”

Mr. Romano slapped his thigh. “Come sit, sweetheart. You’re too far away to deal properly.”

The other men laughed. Rafael’s stare ordered me to obey.

I walked around the table.

Romano dragged me onto his lap before I reached him. One arm locked around my waist. His other hand moved over my hip as if I were part of the casino’s inventory.

The men watched.

Dominic watched too.

There was no pity in his face. Only the same cold disgust I had seen seven years ago.

“You planning to deal?” Romano asked. “Or are you too comfortable?”

I lowered my eyes and began the hand.

Dominic won.

He won the next one too, and the one after that. Soon the game itself bored them.

One man raised his glass toward Romano. “You may be losing a fortune, but at least you’ve got the better prize.”

“The rest of us are losing with nothing to show for it.”

Romano laughed. “Then let’s make the dealer the stakes. Whoever wins takes her.”

The table came alive.

“Winner of each hand gets her for the next round.”

“Most hands by the end of the night takes her upstairs.”

Someone glanced at Bianca. “The Don should sit this one out. He already has something more precious beside him.”

Every head turned toward Dominic.

He rolled the wine in his glass, considering. Then he set it down with a hard click.

“I’m in.”

Bianca stared at him. He covered her hand with his.

“I won’t touch the dealer,” he told her. “If I win, you decide whose lap she sits on.”