A man strode in, his gaze sweeping over me with leisurely contempt. After a long, deliberate pause, he scoffed.
"Tch. Ms. Harding must think highly of you, getting me to play against a nobody like you."
"It's him! The new God of Gamblers!"
"Kerry Gilbert's finished."
May didn't bother standing. She simply watched me, thoroughly entertained.
"Kerry, I'll say it one more time. If you want you and your mother to leave here safely—beat him."
The room exploded.
Some laughed at the impossibility of me defeating a gambling legend. Others hurled insults—calling me a spineless cuckold, tied up and humiliated while my wife cuckolded me.
Through the jeering and the filth, I turned to look at my mother. Tears streamed down her face.
"Mom." My voice was hoarse but steady. "Don't worry. We're walking out of here. Together."
The words had barely left my mouth when the man guarding her received a nod from Mark.
He reached out and tore her outer garment away.
"Well, well! The old lady's still got it!"
"Look at that skin—smooth as silk. Could pass for twenty, I'd say."
"I'm placing my bet right now. They say experienced women have the most... enthusiasm."