Chapter 3

A dry, harsh laugh escaped Ava' s lips. It was a broken sound, full of four years of shattered hope.

"So this was all a game," she said, her voice flat. "My life, our son's health... it was all just a way for you to fund your little fantasy here."

Liam leaned back, crossing his legs. He looked bored.

"Don't be so dramatic, Ava. It was a business arrangement. You provided capital. I built an enterprise. You should be proud."

"Proud?" The word was acid on her tongue. "You left me and your son in a roach-infested apartment while you played king. I sold my blood to keep your mistress healthy."

"Scarlett has needs," Liam said, as if that explained everything. "And you had a surplus. It was a practical solution."

He looked at his expensive watch. "Look, this has been a touching reunion, but it's over. The evaluation is complete. You failed."

He stood up, pulling Scarlett with him. He walked over to the table and picked up a single stack of hundred-dollar bills, tossing it on the floor in front of Ava. It landed with a soft thud.

"Here. For your trouble. Now get out. You're not welcome here anymore."

The finality in his voice was like a door slamming shut on her entire life. He was discarding her, like a piece of trash, with a pittance of the money she had earned for him.

Ava didn't move. She just stared at him, at the cold, empty space where the man she loved used to be. The shock was wearing off, replaced by a deep, glacial rage.

"You are a monster," she said, the words clear and steady.

Liam shrugged. "I'm a survivor. You should have learned that by now."

He turned his back on her, dismissing her completely. He and Scarlett started toward a door at the back of the room, laughing about where they would go for dinner.

Ava was left alone, standing in a room full of her own money, her entire world destroyed. The weight of the betrayal was so immense she thought it might crush her. She sank to the floor, her body finally giving out. The tears she had held back for four years came in a silent, wracking storm. She cried for the man she thought she had married, for the love she thought they shared. She cried for her own stupidity, her own blindness. Most of all, she cried for Leo, her sweet, sick boy who was the only real thing in this entire nightmare.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out with a shaking hand, expecting it to be one of the loan sharks. It was Leo's neighbor, Mrs. Gable.

"Ava, dear, you need to come to the hospital. Right now," the old woman's voice was tight with panic. "It's Leo. He's having trouble breathing. The doctors are very worried."

The words sliced through her grief, a new, sharper terror taking its place.

"I'm on my way," she said, scrambling to her feet.

She ran out of the club, ignoring the stares, pushing past people, her only thought to get to her son. She was halfway to the hospital in a taxi when her phone rang again. It was an unknown number. She answered it.

"Ava."

It was Liam's voice. The calm, commanding voice of The Gambler.

"I need you to go to the clinic," he said, his tone all business. "Scarlett's not feeling well. She needs another transfusion. Now."

Ava went still. The city lights blurred outside the taxi window. He had just thrown her out, told her she had failed, and now he was calling to demand her blood for his mistress. He didn't know about Leo. He didn't care.

"No," she said.

There was a silence on the other end.

"What did you say?" Liam asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.

"I said no," Ava repeated, her own voice filled with a strength she didn't know she possessed. "The blood bank is closed. Permanently."

She could almost feel his fury through the phone. "You don't get to say no to me, Ava. You are my asset. You will do as you're told."

"Leo is in the hospital," she said, her voice breaking. "He's sick, Liam. He might be..." She couldn't say the word. "I'm going to him."

"The boy can wait," Liam snapped. "Scarlett's health is the priority. Go to the clinic, or I will send people to make you go."

That was it. The last tiny flicker of hope that there was any humanity left in him died. He would let his own son die to appease his mistress. He wasn't just a con artist. He was a sociopath.

Ava thought of the past four years. The torture video that was a lie. The debt that was a lie. The love that was a lie. Everything was a lie, except for one thing.

Her son.

"Go to hell, Liam," she spat, and hung up the phone.

She stared out the window, her heart a cold, hard stone in her chest. The game was over. She was done being his pawn.

She arrived at the hospital and ran to the pediatric ICU. She saw Leo through the glass, his small chest struggling for every breath, machines beeping frantically around him. She felt a wave of pure, undiluted love and a terrifying sense of dread.

She was about to go in when she heard a heavy thud behind her. She turned. Two large men in black suits were blocking the hallway. They were the same men who had been collecting the "debt" for years. The loan sharks.

Liam's thugs.

"The boss isn't happy, Ava," the first one said, cracking his knuckles. "He said you needed some convincing."

They started walking toward her, their intentions clear. She was trapped.