When I stroll inside the casino, it isn’t hard to find him. Some people like to be the center of attention, and that must be the case with Giancarlo Sandoval. I spot him instantly. Undeniably, that’s him.

That breathtaking jawline, those sharp features … he’s older, but age has done nothing to make him less attractive. I can’t imagine a younger version of him being any more attractive than he is now. He’s got a single gray streak in his dark, tousled hair that accentuates how sexy he is.

I have to take a moment to appreciate his face. Giancarlo is a wicked man, but his face is a thing of beauty. The lines on his face aren't etchings that mar, they're character that adds to the carved-from-marble look he has. I bet his body, obviously fit beneath his suit, is just as David's Michelangelo. Really, his whole body is worth looking at an extra second or two.

Fuck, I'm trying to keep my cool, and I'm looking at his soulful, too-charming eyes, and his devious come-fuck-with-me-I-dare-ya grin.

I shouldn't be attracted to him. Mostly, he repulses me. So just looking at him now, in person and not the pictures of him online, I shouldn't be having this strong of a reaction to him just because he’s attractive. I’m not the kind of girl to care more about looks than anything else. Giancarlo may be attractive on the outside, but it's the inside that would — and should —count, and make me interested in him. The kind of man who would take me up on this offer—and there's no doubt that is the kind of man that Giancarlo is, which is not a man who I can be attracted to.

The concept of owning someone's virginity is disgusting. The idea that this is my only power as a woman because I have no money, no fancy job, and not even a completed nor fancy education, is despicable.

Right now, Giancarlo is a demon to me. Handsome and distracting and willing to take a piece of my soul … I hope. That’s not the sort of thought you have about a good man. That’s the sort of thought you’d expect to have about a man who owns a casino called Wicked Paradise. He looks devilishly good and he's oozing charm, but it's people like him who will do anything, take anything, and have anything, and that means we can't play by the nice rules of a pleasant society. He's good at being a shady bastard, but he's far from the only shady bastard. Men like him rule in every office, on every street, and on the board of every big company.

I'm a small person of no worth except that I have a pussy that hasn't been entered by a man.

So instead of bemoaning these facts, or begrudging his attractiveness, I have to stay focused.

Still, my mind wants to wander, stalling me so that it feels like my heels are literally dug into the plush carpet of the casino. As close as I’m standing, just a few tables away, I'm going to have to approach him soon anyway.

Scanning the room, I see women wearing outfits that resemble my own, except their outfits are several shades stronger than what I've attempted to pull off. Their heels are higher than mine. Their tops are cut much lower. Their makeup is more dramatic. I wonder if I’m doomed to fail because I didn’t quite dress the part. I can’t attribute this colossal failure on making myself up to not having a mother during my teenage years … I've completely avoided any dating whatsoever. It occurs to me that I’ve never found a man who I’ve wanted to fuck.

Looking at Giancarlo makes my stomach heat in a way that I’ve never felt before, and I don’t know what to think about that. Is my body trying to cope with this horrible ordeal I want to put it through? Even if an experienced lover like Giancarlo Sandoval takes my virginity, the mental toll of having sex with him is of course a frightening prospect.

I wonder why, then, I’m a little bit excited by the idea now. It must be because he’s attractive. But that’s so shallow! I think, as I’m watching him so intently now, it's because I recognize something in him. I recognize it because I feel it, too.

Giancarlo Sandoval looks like he wants to be absolutely anywhere but in Wicked Paradise. Oh, I can agree.

I wonder why he feels that …

But I don’t want to think about that. Making him human makes me more terrified. If he’s another person in my mind, then I have to fathom why he’d be willing to accept my offer. Yes, even though I want him to, it still isn’t pleasant.

I don't have to wonder why I've never met a man I wanted to fuck. I'm happy to be a virgin because I don't have the time or desire to deal with any of the fucked up things in this world.

The only man I love is my brother, Tommy, and he's falling apart in front of me. Other people I've had in my life—so-called friends—called me weak when I said that my brother just needed help. Because we have no family and I'm all he has left, I have to be stern with him. It's no excuse for his behavior. His gambling, alcohol, and drug addictions are the reasons behind his actions, but they don’t remove him from needing help. They don’t erase his humanity, as if him making those choices invalidate his right to being healthy and happy. Tommy’s just having a much harder time getting there, and he needs help. If I knew what to do to help him, I would've done it. I've tried so many fucking times to do just about anything that I can think of. My friends all fade away because they think I need to cut him from my life.

How can anyone be so callous?

So many people are ready to feel high and mighty above Tommy.

This is why I have a hard time connecting to people. I can’t relate to how shallow people can be, how completely devoid of empathy. Haven’t they ever loved someone so much that they’d love them unconditionally? Why is it so difficult for them to understand that when you love someone, you aren’t condoning all of their actions … you just love them regardless.

Well, I love Tommy unconditionally. I love him enough to do anything for him.

I love him enough to debase myself, because I don't think I'm better than him, or worth more. I'm taking the only thing I have to offer, offering it to this scummy prick Giancarlo, and I'm going to get my brother the help he needs and keep him from getting hurt.

The people who have all fallen out of my life because they already thought I should give up on Tommy, those people would judge me so much for this decision.

But I don’t feel wrong for my actions. I feel vindicated.

I'll sleep with this devil, and I’ll take the marks on my soul in exchange for saving Tommy, every step of the way that I can. And when Tommy’s well, then we'll never, ever, come near places like this or people like Giancarlo, ever again. I won't defile our lives like that. We’ll get far away from this nightmare city and live in some quiet town that gives us both a chance to start over.

After all, there are diners everywhere. I can get a new job. I can pack up and leave and find us a new place.

Tommy and I are the only family that we have. We have a right to be happy.

A few moments or hours of whatever unpleasant fate awaits me with Giancarlo is nothing compared to taking care of my brother and finally being able to see him smile again. A real smile on Tommy’s face, one that he means, one that he isn’t wearing just so that I’ll stop worrying … I’d do anything for Tommy to feel like he can smile again.

I feel the first smile I’ve had in a long time spread over my lips, despite the terror that sends a shiver through me. I watch the way Giancarlo’s hands grip his glass and I'm transfixed by it. I realize now, fear washing over me, that when Tommy is okay and doesn’t owe Giancarlo Sandoval … I have to find a way to make it look like I did anything else but fuck a casino owning gangster to erase one of Tommy’s debts.

I should have a better plan, but this is my only one. He owes Giancarlo Sandoval more than he owes anyone else, so I figured I should knock down this opponent before he does something to my brother. I'll worry about the rest and make more money, pull more shifts at the diner, and get him into a rehab facility so he can get help. One step at a time, I'm going to save us both.

This is the thing about having to play dirty. I don’t want to do it, but I can and I will do it in this fucked up world to make sure something good like my brother and my only family gets to exist, and not fade away because Tommy very well may disappear if I don’t do something. I can’t handle him dying. And I can't be bothered to care about what others might think of what I’m doing because I need to take care of my brother.

That includes that little voice in me that seems to get silenced when I stalk toward Giancarlo Sandoval. My mouth runs dry and I can’t believe I’m thinking about the size of those hands compared to various parts of my body. I’m thinking about what it might feel like if he touches me, and that’s so strange to me. I’ve never even fantasized about being with a man before. Now, the one man I've decided to sleep with, but who is also the last person I think I’d want to sleep with … I’m picturing what it would feel like to try and catch my breath because he's on top of me. I can’t breathe now.

I want to clear this picture out of my mind.

But maybe I should focus on how attractive this pig is. The man who would hurt my brother somehow turns me on, wrong as that is. But I need this feeling.

I can use this feeling. Use this burning under my skin that makes my pulse speed up and play the role of the woman offering herself up to him even better than I could've imagined.

I need to make him want me and I'd be lying if I told myself I didn't want him. I do. How could I not? He's damned attractive! It's certainly a part of how he gets away with everything he does; Giancarlo Sandoval is an unholy amount of charming. His charm takes the sensible part of a person, and melts it down to their core. Seriously, it feels like someone dropped an ice cube in my panties. If they did, the heat looking at this man could melt it. My stomach still turns, and twists even further, but I find that I kind of like the way that I can’t feel myself in control. It's like my brain is just a little too hazy at the notion of him touching me. Talking to him.

I'm already wondering what his voice might sound like. I want to hear him say my name.

Use this desire to get what you want. Be just like him. That’s what I tell myself. I have to think this way, and be ruthless.

This is the only way to save Tommy from an impossible situation with an improbable plan.

Now that I'm actually doing the deal, standing right beside Giancarlo, I’m motivated to feel confident. I let myself get caught up in the moment, and now my thoughts are taking me down a winding road where I can barely see past the headlights of what's coming next on this messy road. I’m already hazy-minded with growing lust. But this sense of being less in control now, urges me to play this game with every drop of resolve that I have.

I have power, and I'm going to use it. I'm not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

I can do this.

It doesn’t feel so bad to be not as in control. There’s a thrill in me now. Somehow I’m taking the biggest gamble I've ever made in my life, and instead of being sick to my stomach, I’m exhilarated.

But when I'm close enough to smell the fresh, masculine scent of him, I’m downright terrified.

Oh, God, can I actually do this?