Billionaires Desire

last gamble

The air in the casino was thick with tension as the final hand played out. The associate’s smile had returned, smug and dripping with overconfidence as the cards were revealed. Desiree’s heart dropped as she saw the expression on Atticus’s face shift, just barely, but enough to let her know—it wasn’t good.

He had lost.

The associate chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a grin that sent a chill down Desiree’s spine. “Well, well, Killian. It seems luck isn’t on your side tonight,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. His eyes flicked to Desiree, a leering smile curling his lips. “I guess she’s mine now.”

Desiree’s breath caught in her throat. She felt Atticus’s hand clench slightly beside her, but when she looked at him, his expression was eerily calm. Too calm.

The associate stood up, straightening his suit jacket as if the matter were settled. He extended a hand toward Desiree, his voice dangerously smooth. “Come along, darling. It’s time for you to leave with me.”

Desiree tensed, her pulse racing as she looked between the two men, panic rising in her chest. But before she could react, Atticus stood slowly, his movements deliberate, almost lethally controlled.

“You’re not taking her anywhere,” he said, his voice like ice.

The associate raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Oh? And what makes you think you’re in any position to stop me, Killian? You lost. Fair and square.”

Atticus’s lips curled into a slow, dark smile. “I wouldn’t say that just yet.”

There was a shift in the room, a sudden, almost imperceptible tension as Atticus reached into his jacket pocket. The associate’s eyes narrowed, clearly not expecting the move. Atticus withdrew a small vial, holding it up between his fingers, the liquid inside catching the dim light of the casino.

The associate frowned, glancing from the vial to Atticus’s face, clearly puzzled. “What the hell is that?”

Atticus tilted his head slightly, his smile widening ever so slightly. “The drinks you’ve been enjoying all night? They’ve been laced with something rather… unpleasant.”

Desiree’s eyes widened, her breath catching as she glanced at the empty bottles on the table. The associate’s confident grin faltered, his gaze flickering to the drinks he had consumed throughout the night.

“Poison?” the associate muttered, a note of disbelief in his voice. He laughed, though it was forced, the tension now palpable in his posture. “You’re bluffing.”

Atticus’s smile didn’t waver. He held the vial up between them, his eyes cold and unblinking. “Am I?”

For a moment, the associate stared at him, trying to gauge whether Atticus was serious. But the longer he looked into Atticus’s eyes, the more his own confidence began to crumble. His smirk faded completely as realization dawned.

“I wouldn’t play games with a man like me,” Atticus said softly, his voice carrying a lethal edge. “You’ve been sipping poison for the past hour. Judging by the look in your eyes, I’d say it’s starting to take effect.”

The associate’s face drained of color. His hand moved instinctively to his chest, as if testing for any signs of discomfort. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, and his breathing became slightly erratic.

Desiree’s heart was pounding, her eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold. This wasn’t just business anymore. This was something far darker, something far more dangerous.

Atticus took a step forward, his expression never faltering. “Here’s how this is going to work,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “You can either hand over the money and leave Desiree with me, or you can keep her… and lose your life in the next few minutes. Your choice.”

The associate swallowed hard, his face now ashen. His hand twitched toward the pile of chips on the table, but his eyes were locked on the vial in Atticus’s hand. He was panicking now, the bravado completely gone. “You… you wouldn’t kill me,” he stammered, though his voice lacked any real conviction.

Atticus’s smile widened, though there was no warmth in it. “Life or death. That’s my final round.”

The associate’s hands trembled as the weight of the situation fully sank in. He glanced desperately around the room, but there was no one who would come to his aid. He was alone. And he knew it.

“Fine,” the associate spat, his voice shaking. “You win. I’ll transfer the money. Just… give me the antidote.”

Atticus’s gaze flickered with satisfaction as he handed the associate his phone. “Make the transfer. Now.”

With shaking hands, the associate fumbled with his phone, hastily inputting the necessary information. Desiree watched in stunned silence as the transaction was completed, the numbers flashing across the screen confirming that the money was safely back in the Killian account.

“There,” the associate said breathlessly, his hand still clutching his chest. “Now… the antidote.”

Atticus took the phone from him, checking the transaction before slipping it back into his pocket. He regarded the associate for a long moment, then casually placed the vial on the table in front of him.

The associate snatched it up, unscrewing the cap with shaking fingers before downing the contents in one gulp. He gasped, relief flooding his features as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Atticus watched him for a moment longer, then turned to Desiree, his hand resting gently on her back once again. “Let’s go.”

She stood on shaky legs, her mind still reeling from what had just happened. Without another word, Atticus led her out of the casino, leaving the associate pale and trembling in their wake.

---

The cool night air hit her as they stepped outside, the tension slowly beginning to ebb from her body. Desiree glanced up at Atticus, her heart still racing. He was calm, collected, as if the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“Did you really poison him?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Atticus’s lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. “Yes,” he replied, his voice soft yet dripping with satisfaction. “But that was just water he drank nothing special." Desiree stared at him, a mix of fear and awe swirling inside her. "So will the water do anything?" she asked her voice steady when he didn't respond as if to keep her peace of mind

Atticus Killian was a man who didn’t just play games—he made the rules. And she was beginning to realize just how deep his power ran. Whatever twisted path she had started down with him, she was in it now—completely and irrevocably. And there was no turning back.