A Gambling Man Novels & Stories

He seemed guilty because he couldn't help her in time. I put my hands inside my pocket and stared at the woman's face. "She talked to me too. I sensed something wrong with her words. It's like she knew what was going to happen to her." "I didn't know that the famous gambler was here," a man spoke up. His voice was loud, so everyone heard what he said. He was just sitting where he was earlier. He was the man I played poker with.

However, Arsenio raised one hand on purpose. Bastian took one step back. Keep far. The woman smiled with satisfaction. He cheered happily because he got a big response. "Third game, gentlemen. How's it going?" The man started playing his gambling game again. "Ah, no! I give up. My money is gone!" grumbled one of the slightly stockier men, as he got up from his seat. Throwing his hand away roughly when the seductive woman who had accompanied him for the last few hours, tried to hold back.

“Would you like some hot cocoa to cool off?” “That would be nice, thank you,” he said and mum dashed off to the kitchen. “You work in Alpha Waylen’s mansion right? Do they not pay you over there? Sorry if I’m being too forward, but it’s just that I noticed the landlord always harasses you every month,” The man sighed. “It’s fine. I work at Alpha Waylen’s mansion as the CCTV guy and the pay is decent but I have a bad gambling addiction, and I end up losing the money. Although sometimes I win my bets,”

As she walks over the road, she overheard some old man talking in the alleyway. “Hey, I heard some gamblers won some big money” the middle-aged man with a big belly spoke as he exhales the smoke. “Those b*stard got lucky, I heard they have 1 million, I can’t believe a b*start like them got a big money like that, it should’ve been me!” the other middle-aged man shouts as if he’s drunk, his left hand is holding a bottle of beer. “Haaaa, now, now, don’t shout” The other middle-aged man who has been smoking, calming down the drunk middle-aged man.

“You really never learn, do you?” Mr. Romero said coldly, staring down at the man kneeling before him. Blood trickled from the man’s mouth, a deep cut visible on his forehead. His body trembled slightly; he had clearly just endured a brutal beating from Romero’s men. They were inside a private gambling den. And the man on his knees was Seren’s father. A man is buried deep in debt after losing everything to gambling. “Give me one more chance. I can win it back,” he pleaded.

Early in the morning, both of them sent text messages reminding me to attend. However, when I arrived, a fat, greasy man took me to a storage room. “Babe, Mr. Connelly told me to take good ‘care’ of you today. So, are you coming on your own, or do I have to make you?” “Did your Mr. Connelly forget to tell you that this is rape? That it’s illegal? Oh, and I forgot to mention—I hired over a dozen bodyguards.” “You—” Before he could finish speaking, one of my bodyguards had already pinned him to the ground.

A tapered hand reaches up to brush something off his suit coat, almost as if he can wipe away the stink of despair. I wonder which one of my neighbors is into this rich bastard for money because there's no other reason for the likes of him to slum it. That very thought causes my heart to start pounding in earnest, threatening to explode from my chest. That son of a bitch! Manny's gotten himself in too deep. So fucking deep I'll never be able to fish him out of the quicksand of gambling debt he's swimming in. I watch the man and will him to move away from my cracked and broken cement sidewalk. But he doesn't. No. He turns and looks at my window as if he can see me staring at him. As if he kno

I have to go on a business trip for a week, so I get a cat-sitter to come over and feed my cat Muffin while I'm away. But on the second day, when I check the live footage from the living room surveillance camera, I see my fiancee, Kate Swanson's childhood friend Samuel Lambert enter the password for the front door and walk into the house. Then, he throws a grape into Muffin's bowl. Samuel Lambert raises an eyebrow in the direction of the surveillance camera. "Hey, Jonathan. Muffin is a smart one, isn't it? It's not touching the grape at all." Then, as I watch in horror, he unplugs the surveillance camera. I feel my heart sink, and I immediately ask the cat-sitter to head back over and ch

(eg when Damon speaks, the format will be as this: Damon ~ “Evening Amber.” Let me know what you think, of Gamble With My Heart. Gamble With My Heart is a winner in the Chapters Interactive Stories Writing Contest in 2020. Happy reading, Tatum Whispers ************************* Whatever you think might be real. It is not. Only a fool believes foolish things. You are only as good as the game that you play. And right now, the game is on you. For every single thing that you have ever done to another woman has just come back to you. Karma is a bïtch, and you have been bitten.

Money could talk all kinds of languages. Someone at the bar lifted a hand in a wave to me. A pair of hauntingly dark eyes rested on my face. The guy was tall and skinny, with long fingers wrapped around a black bottle without a label on it. He brought the bottle to his lips and drank without breaking eye contact with me. Two men stood on either side of him. They were almost as tall as he was and three times as wide. It wasn’t hard to spot bodyguards, no matter how hard they were trying to blend in. I wondered if there were more of them around. Not that it mattered. I had brought more than enough muscle myself. Two could play at this game. Or ten, as the case was.