Mia’s hand was good enough to hold—for now. She scanned the table. All men. Typical. At least it would make it easier for her.
Lauren had decided to sit this round out, swirling a gin in hand, cheeks flushed from drinking, eyes bright with mischief. She played the clueless card perfectly—leaning forward just enough, smiling just right—nudging the men into overconfidence. A tilt of her head here, a lazy grin there, and they all started betting like fools on garbage hands.
Soon, players began folding one by one, unable to keep up with the mounting tension and Mia’s steady, unbothered expression. All except him.
The man from last night.
His gaze locked onto hers across the felt, unreadable, dangerous, intense. Mia felt the heat crawl up her throat, her skin tingling under the weight of that look.
There was something… wrong about him. Gorgeous, yes. His nearly-black hair groomed perfectly, thick dark lashes framing eyes that should’ve belonged to a saint, not someone who radiated the kind of evil that made your instincts whisper, run.
And yet Mia stayed rooted in place.
He hadn’t spoken a word. Just watched her. Daring her.
The dealer laid down the last card. Without breaking eye contact, the man slid all his chips into the middle of the table.
“All in?” Mia’s voice came out light, breathless, edged with a giggle she didn’t fully feel. She pushed her chips in too, feigning the awkward, slightly clumsy girl she knew men underestimated.
Then he dropped his cards.
Nothing.
Not even a single pair.
His whole hand a dud.
Her eyes flickered up, meeting his again, and for a second—a single heartbeat—she thought she saw him smile. Almost like he’d wanted her to win.
And then he stood up, silent as ever, and walked away into the crowd, disappearing like smoke.
The dealer slid a slip of paper toward her. Neat handwriting showing: $30,000.
“Oh my God, Mia! How do you do this?!” Lauren hissed, grabbing Mia’s arm as they hurried toward the bar.
Mia’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it might knock the breath out of her chest. “Told you,” she murmured, eyes locked on the bottles lined up behind the bar. “Started with the free chips. That’s it. Turned a hundred into five grand last night. Just… kept going.”
“But that guy—”
“Not the cowboy,” Mia interrupted before Lauren could ramble. “The other one. He’s… weird.”
“Which guy?” Lauren asked, distracted now as she waved down the bartender for another cocktail.
Mia ordered herself a vodka and orange, but as soon as it hit her stomach, she felt the buzz clash with the adrenaline already flooding her veins. She ordered a bottle of water next, sipping slowly, waiting for her head to stop spinning.
By the time they moved over to the roulette table, Mia felt steady again. She exchanged her note for cash at the counter, keeping most tucked safely away in her bag but trading a thousand dollars into chips for the next round of play.
“Last number was twenty-one, red,” the dealer called.
Mia tossed a handful of chips on red, just for fun, letting herself get pulled into the hypnotic spin of the ball.
“Thirty-four, red.”
Nice and easy.
“Bet a single number,” Lauren whispered with a grin, leaning close. “The payouts are better, and we’ve got all week to blow through this. C’mon, live dangerously.”
Mia rolled her eyes but smiled. Why not? She placed a small stack on thirteen—just to test fate. Unlucky number, right?
The ball spun. Click. Click. Click.
“Thirteen, red.”
Mia let out a soft laugh, caught somewhere between nerves and disbelief.
“You’re one lucky woman, aren’t ya, doll?”
A low voice purred right by her ear, thick with a smooth American accent. The warmth of his breath brushed against her exposed shoulder.
Mia’s stomach tightened instinctively. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
“I guess I am,” she replied with a teasing smirk, straightening her back. “Does that bother you?”
“Course not,” he drawled. “Enjoying the game’s the whole reason I opened this place.”
Opened?
Mia’s lips parted slightly, shock flashing across her face. She turned then, properly, coming face to face with the man she now knew as trouble incarnate.
Dark eyes. Clean-cut beard. Suit tailored within an inch of his life. His gaze traveled slowly down her body, lingering at her waist, her hips, the hem of the glittering white dress.
Predator. Prey.
But the heat in her blood didn’t entirely feel like fear.
She leaned closer, chin tilted slightly upward. “Good to know the owner,” she murmured. “Could be useful… in case I get into any trouble.” Leaving a slight purring emphasis on the word trouble in an attempt to flirt.
His smirk deepened. “Mmm. You like trouble eh, don’t you, darlin’? Guess I’ll have to keep my eyes on you.”
She turned away before she could enjoy that look too much, placing her next bet. Even numbers. Safe. Steady. Her heart definitely wasn’t steady, though.
Across the table, Lauren was busy chatting up some Adonis in a tight black suit, muscles straining under the expensive fabric, olive skin catching the light beautifully. Of course she found herself a model to flirt with.
Mia’s pulse still buzzed at her throat when the man leaned in again.
“Name’s Axel,” he said, sweeping her curls aside gently to expose her bare neck. His lips brushed the delicate skin, his breath warm. “If you get lost in here, you come find me.”
Before she could react, he was already walking away, heading to the bar. He returned with two elaborate cocktails, both decorated with fruit, flowers, the works. He handed one to Mia, signalling to a nearby staff member to deliver the other to Lauren.
“Six, black,” the dealer called, snapping Mia’s attention back to the table. The pile of chips in front of her grew. Mia’s lips pressed together, but it wasn’t the fear of loosing that left a knot in her stomach—it was the way Axel was watching her now, like a wolf waiting for the rabbit to stop running.
Lauren appeared by her side again. Her complexion was pale, her steps a little uncertain. “Hey… I’m not feeling so hot. That last cocktail did me in. Mr. Muscles over there’s gonna help me back to the room. You’ve got your key?”
Mia frowned, glancing at her. She did look rough. “Yeah, I’ve got it. You good?”
“Totally fine. Just tired. And gorgeous, obviously,” she grinned faintly before giving Mia a quick hug and heading toward the elevators with her new companion.
With Lauren gone, Mia focused on her drink again, sipping cautiously while thinking through her next move.
Then—everything went sideways.
The casino blurred. Lights bending, spinning, tilting in on themselves. Her stomach lurched violently. Her vision funnelled down to a pinpoint of flickering light, everything else melting into black.
And as she stumbled, her knees giving out, she didn’t hit the hard marble floor.
She landed in someone’s arms.
Axel’s arms.
“I’ve got you, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.”
As her consciousness slipped away, Mia heard one last thing before the dark swallowed her whole— Axel’s low, wicked laugh.
He’d won this round.
“Fuck… you’re so tight,” Axel growled through gritted teeth, his voice thick with pleasure as Mia slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing cock. The stretch was intense. It had been years since she’d been this intimate with anyone, and the pressure, the heat, the way he filled her—it felt good. It almost scared her how good it felt.She took a moment to adjust to his size before beginning to move, hips rolling, testing different paces and angles, all while watching his face. Learn him. Know what he likes. Knowledge was power, and right now, Mia needed every ounce of control she could claw back. But Axel wasn’t going to make this easy. His expression stayed frustratingly composed, save for the flare of lust in his dark eyes. The tension in his jaw was the only tell of just how much he wanted to lose control.His hands lifted to her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples before gently tugging, pinching, teasing, sending sparks through her core as she moved her hips in wide circles.
The gentle click of the door woke Mia from a deep, dream-filled sleep. Romance had taunted her in her dreams, inspired by the book she’d drifted off reading. But the fantasy shattered when she saw him standing there—Axel—watching her from the foot of the bed. His stare was intense, unreadable, his dark gaze locked on the robe that had slipped open during the night, exposing the lacy red lingerie she’d foolishly put on for him earlier.Heat surged through her body as she rushed to cover herself, cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment. But when her eyes met his, that shame twisted into something else entirely. Desire, lust and need… hunger radiated from him. His chest rose and fell with every breath, his eyes tracking her every movement like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.“Darlin’,” he said lowly, his voice gravelly from drink or exhaustion—or both—“sorry about before. Had some business to take care of.”It was then Mia noticed the blood splatter on his crisp wh
Mia explored the hotel floor she had been given, trying to settle her nerves. The luxurious surroundings should have brought her comfort—a freestanding roll-top bath, a waterfall shower, cupboards filled with makeup and expensive skincare. Luxurious towels, neatly folded. Everything was pristine, carefully arranged like it had been prepared just for her. It was hard to feel like a prisoner in a place like this, but the weight in her stomach wouldn’t shift. No matter how beautiful the surroundings, she was still trapped.She took her time examining the makeup, needing something normal to focus on. After grabbing a towel, she turned on the shower and stepped under the warm stream. She stood still, letting the water wash over her, scrubbing the emotions from her skin, reminding herself of one thing: Stay strong. Play the game. Survive first, feel later.After drying off, she slipped into a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved top, choosing comfort over seduction. But the room… she couldn
Every wall was covered in rows of metal hooks and neatly arranged implements—floggers, ropes, cuffs, crops. The stark black walls gleamed under the low overhead lights, creating a mix of threat and seduction.No windows. No clocks. But cool air hummed from an overhead vent. Mia examined it quickly, testing for any weakness, her fingers working the edges—but no luck. Solid, reinforced. Another dead end.Think, Mia. Think.She barely had time to react before the door burst open.She jumped, spinning to face it, heartbeat racing—but forced herself to relax. She smoothed her dress, straightened her posture. If Axel wanted a show of weakness, he wasn’t getting it now.He entered, fresh clothes, the faint scent of whiskey clinging to him, rolling off his broad shoulders and sharp suit like static electricity.“On your knees, doll,” he said, his voice lower, darker. “I’ve had a long day, and I could use a little relief.”His hand toyed with his belt buckle as he stepped toward her, arrogance
Mia’s eyes snapped open.Darkness. A heavy, suffocating black.As her senses adjusted, she realised her vision was covered—soft, silky fabric pressing gently against her eyelids. She tried to lift her hands but couldn’t. Thick ropes dug into her wrists, pinning her to something solid beneath her.She moved her mouth—only to find it gagged with the same silky material, tied tight behind her head. Panic flared instantly in her chest, but then she realised her clothes were still on. Relief pulsed through her, shaky and thin, but there nonetheless.Stop. Breathe. Listen.Somewhere in the dark, footsteps echoed faintly, slow and steady, drawing closer. Then—click. The door. Keys. And locks sliding inside the doors structure.Mia’s stomach twisted.“Don’t you look beautiful all tied up and helpless, darlin’?” Axel’s voice purred through the shadows, rich with amusement, too smooth, too calm.He sat down beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. Cool fingers brushed against
Mia’s hand was good enough to hold—for now. She scanned the table. All men. Typical. At least it would make it easier for her.Lauren had decided to sit this round out, swirling a gin in hand, cheeks flushed from drinking, eyes bright with mischief. She played the clueless card perfectly—leaning forward just enough, smiling just right—nudging the men into overconfidence. A tilt of her head here, a lazy grin there, and they all started betting like fools on garbage hands.Soon, players began folding one by one, unable to keep up with the mounting tension and Mia’s steady, unbothered expression. All except him.The man from last night.His gaze locked onto hers across the felt, unreadable, dangerous, intense. Mia felt the heat crawl up her throat, her skin tingling under the weight of that look.There was something… wrong about him. Gorgeous, yes. His nearly-black hair groomed perfectly, thick dark lashes framing eyes that should’ve belonged to a saint, not someone who radiated the kind