Chapter 3The Missing Wife

After a lot of effort and calling in favors, Nate finally managed to connect me with someone.

The "connection" was a guy named Donnie.

Nate told me Donnie was probably the only person who could help rescue Sarah.

Because the "Golden Paradise" had an unwritten rule.

Gamblers who won big could trade their chips for any of the women currently "for sale."

Including the female dealers.

Hiring someone to gamble for me – that was the plan, the only plan, to save my wife.

My heart was pounding with anxiety when Nate arranged for me to meet Donnie.

Seeing him, I was taken aback.

The Donnie Nate had described turned out to be a young guy, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six.

Casual clothes, canvas sneakers, a standard buzz cut.

A crescent-shaped scar curled near the corner of his eye.

He looked almost bookish, not at all like a seasoned gambler who'd spent years in casinos.

Could a guy this young really rescue my wife from that hellhole? I couldn't help but doubt it.

But Nate swore Donnie was the best gambler he knew.

I showed Donnie the video of Sarah. He just muttered two words, "Serves her right," and got up to leave.

Seeing that, I dropped to my knees right there. But the guy didn't even glance back at me.

Nate quickly followed him out, pleading with Donnie to help.

Five minutes later, Nate came back to the booth, looking dejected. I knew Donnie had refused.

But then, surprisingly, Donnie came back. This time, his eyes seemed a little softer.

"Going to the 'Golden Paradise' requires at least a hundred grand just to get in the door. You got that?"

"No."

Donnie turned to leave again.

"But I can sell my house! Donnie, give me three days."

"Three days?" Donnie shook his head. "Those guys are unpredictable, ruthless. Three days from now, I can't guarantee your wife will still be alive. Don't let the dealer job fool you. Tomorrow, she could be moved somewhere else."

"Somewhere… somewhere else?!" A cold sweat broke out on my back. I quickly changed my tune. "No, one day! I can get the money together by tomorrow."

"Okay. Tomorrow, 1 PM, at the airport." As he was leaving, the young man added one more thing.

"I gotta tell you upfront. At the table, I've got a ninety percent chance of winning. But whether I can actually save your wife, whether she's even still alive… that's up to fate."

With that, Donnie left without looking back.

What had this young guy been through? His eyes were sharp as knives, and he talked like someone much older.

I didn't have time to dwell on Donnie's backstory.

Back home, I immediately took out a second mortgage on the house.

I hit up everyone I knew, borrowed from Nate, my sister, and my brother-in-law. Finally, I scraped together one hundred fifty thousand dollars for the gambling stake.

It was everything I had. But to save Sarah, I had to bet it all.

Whether we'd win or not, was entirely up to chance now.