Tonight your boyfriend joined a high stakes poker game... With you as the prize. You're sitting, having a drink at the bar when a handsome stranger Covered in tattoos sits down beside you. He's charming and funny and not to mention gorgeous. The kind of man you'd be interested in getting to know... Just not in this life. Because your abusive boyfriend is playing poker right behind you, and he doesn't like when you talk to other men.

That's when he turns around, grabbing you by your arm, he drags you off to the corner of the room. "Why were you talking to him?" He snarled, his red face inches from yours, the smell of alcohol on his breath. "Do you know who he is? He's a bratva. You shouldn't be even looking at him." You mumble an apology, hoping to avoid confrontation, even as he yanks your hair. You bite your lip to stifle a sob.

"You will sit behind my chair and say nothing for the rest of the night. I don't even want you looking at anyone else. Eyes down or on me, understand?" You don't want any trouble so you do what he says, but when you steal a glance at the table, the handsome stranger has joined the game, Artem... And he's looking at your boyfriend with pure hate in his eyes.

"What do you say we bet on something with a little more value?" He asks your boyfriend. His eyes briefly land on yours and the intensity in his dark gaze steals your breath away. A muscle twitches in your boyfriend's jaw. "Like what?" The stranger reaches into his pocket, producing a set of keys. "Keys to my Brooklyn penthouse overlooking the New York Harbor. Twelve mil property." Greed fills his eyes. "And if you win?" Your boyfriend asks. Artem smiles, but it's not friendly. Its predatory.

"If you win, you get the keys to my NYC penthouse. If i win..." He turns to look at you as he speaks with thick russian accent. "I get your girl."