When I married Ethan, he was ambitious, hardworking, everything I thought I wanted.
Then my father died in a car accident and left me a fortune. That's when everything changed.
The gambling started small. A poker game here, a sports bet there. Each time he lost, he'd come to me with tears in his eyes, promising it was the last time. And each time, I forgave him. I paid his debts with my father's money, believing he'd change, believing in the man I married.
I was so naive.
The night I woke to screams, I found four strangers in my living room. A man sat in my father's chair like he owned it, cold gray eyes assessing me while my husband bled on the floor.
Ethan hadn't just gambled away my inheritance. He'd forged my signatures, emptied my father's trust fund, and when he couldn't pay the $2.8 million he owed... he sold me. His own wife. To the mob.
