Cuphead Casino Cups

When I was having a heart attack, my parents, my brother, and my fiancé were all at our family casino—celebrating Eva, our adopted daughter, at her twenty-first birthday, her official debut into the mafia world. The doctor refused to operate without a legal guardian’s signature. So I called them. My father’s assistant answered. “Sorry, Miss. The Don is in the middle of a toast.” My brother and mother let it ring until it went silent. Finally, my fiancé, Adam, picked up. Music roared behind him. I could hear laughter, glasses clinking. “Cecilia,” he said, impatient. “If you can’t even show up for Eva’s party, stop causing trouble. Today is Eva’s debut. Every Don from three territories is here. Whatever drama you’re playing can wait.” I lost count of how many times they chose her over me. So after this call, I stopped calling. I signed my own name. My family thought I’d finally learned to be obedient. But they should’ve known that in our world, silence only means one thing—I was preparing to disappear for good.

"F-Fine," she said and squeezed her eyes shut. "I'll do it." To keep her job and pay her nephew's hospital bills, Evelyn agreed to a one night stand with a casino client. In the dim corridor with red lights, someone grabbed her waist, the evil chuckle hot against her ear. No. She didn't want this. That smelly man! She didn't want him! There was a door right before her and she squinted her eyes. What did it say? The wordings looked too long to be the 'exit'. "Stay still," the man growled behind her and started to pull her away. "That's the presidential suite. Our room is right-" She elbowed him with all her strength that he yelped and let go of her. Panic set in her heart as she ran to the exit room right in front of her. She grabbed the door handle and was about to push it open when it was suddenly yanked open. Evelyn lost her footing and fell face first into a hard brick! What kind of wall was warm and smelled so sweet, enough to keep her temperature cool?

His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek, and I’m burning so hot I’m surprised his skin doesn’t blister. “We can’t do this,” he growls, but he doesn’t pull away. “I know.” My voice breaks. “But how can this be wrong when it feels so right?” His jaw clenches. “Because you belong to him.” “I belong to you,” I whisper. “The moon goddess doesn’t make mistakes.” For one endless moment, he just stares at me like I’m destroying him.Then his mouth crashes into mine, and the world burns. *** My brother’s mistake started a war. My surrender ended it. When Kaz Ryker, the most feared Alpha in the realm, spares my dying pack, the price isn’t gold or territory—it’s me. As his wife. His prize. His to claim. I tell myself I can survive this. That I can marry a monster and keep my heart intact. What I don’t expect, is for the mate bond to snap into place with the wrong man. He’s not the man I’m supposed to marry. He’s the one I’m fated to love. And he’s determined to deny it. But my body doesn’t care what he wants. And neither does fate. Trapped between two powerful wolves and a destiny I never asked for, I’m about to learn that some bonds can’t be denied. Even if they burn us all to ash.

"I love you," he gazed at her eyes which are dropped on the floor while he cups her cheeks with his palm. She doesn't look at his eyes. She seems scared. But with what he doesn't understand. "Do you not like me? Even a little bit?" his voice enunciates but she doesn't response to it. He waits for her answer but she doesn't reply him. He tries to back away from her. But as he is leaving, she holds his hands suddenly. "I don't know. I don't know whether I like you or not. I just don't want you to go away. I just don't want you to leave me," she says with the tears sparkling on her eyes. "Esther!" He presses his forehead against her as his breaths fasten. He can feel that along with his, her breaths are quickened as well. He realizes that the fire is burning on both side and she is equally anxious as she is. A smile creeps on his lips as he feels that. "I love you, Esther. You're made for me and I am made for you. We are made for each other," he smiles and presses his lips against her. "You're day dreaming one more time? What the fuck are you dreaming about Esther? Is it about my old man? Are you dreaming about him?" He pushes her against the wall and punches hard on the wall making his knuckles be red and bleed. "Nooo...Nooo... Caden! You're wrong," she cries.

Ophélia est une Fée des ombres, une créature rare aux ailes de papillon de nuit que tous les prédateurs convoitent. Damien, le Patriarche Lycan au regard ambré, veut la soumettre et l'enchaîner à sa meute pour la faire plier. Alistair, le Dragon de la Haute Banque aux yeux d'or, veut la collectionner comme un joyau et l'exposer dans ses tours de verre. Leur rivalité ancestrale atteint son paroxysme lorsqu'ils lui confient le même contrat : retrouver le dernier œuf de dragon. La mission devient le champ de bataille de leur duel. Dans le casino où l'œuf est caché, griffes et écailles s'entrechoquent. Ils ne se battent plus pour l'artefact, mais pour elle. Pour savoir qui la possédera. Ophélia les regarde se déchirer et comprend enfin : l'un veut la dompter, l'autre l'exposer. Aucun ne la voit vraiment.

Cesare Xandri, the rising gangster of the Nalitan mafia, unexpectedly lost a bet at an elite private casino in Ithel, the kind that smells like cigar smoke and blood money. The penalty was simple, he had to call his hard-to-tame pet. The phone was on speaker. The men circled him, whistling and hooting, waiting to be entertained. He asked what I was up to in a relaxed and amused tone. I replied softly, insinuating he was sinful, hiding my defiance behind innocence and fake devotion. When I finished my insult, the room fell silent, then burst into loud and uncontrollable laughter. The call ended. Less than thirty minutes later, the mansion gates were smashed open. He stormed in smelling of gunpowder, a Beretta still in his hand. He pushed me against the wall furiously beneath the Virgin Mary statue. I leaned into him without hesitation, fingers brushing the heated gun, and I met his gaze without fear. I chose virtue and rejected him in my past life, in return I was thrown into the open sea to die. I intended to be his temptation when I got a second chance at life, I wanted to be a beautiful sin that ends his story under the Cecilian sun.

"You're going to meet her someday." I whispered. "Olivia." I forced a smile and lifted my head. "And it's fine. I'll be rooting for you all the way." He cut me off with a soft "Liv." I blinked away my tears. "No, listen to me. We need to accept that this won't last forever. You could find her on your next trip out of town, and I'll be forgotten." I swallowed the lump formed in my throat. "I just hope we'll still be friends." His face twisted in pain as he rested his forehead against mine, his hands trembling as he cups my cheeks. "You'll always be my best friend." "And you'll always be mine." I pressed my lips against his, needing to taste him, to feel his lips on mine, to know that at this moment, he was mine. ^^^ Olivia Martins has always been an outcast in the Nightshade pack. She's an omega and the pack she grew up in never failed to remind her that she'll never be one of them. It wasn't so bad growing up, she had her best friend by her side. Caspian Storm, son of the alpha of the Nightshade pack, befriended her when they were both little, and they've been inseparable ever since. Their friendship started out sweet and innocent, but it developed into more. Olivia knew that it couldn't last forever because Caspian would find his mate and what they had would come to an end. Yet, she couldn't guard her heart and when her worst fear comes true, she flees. Will Olivia and Caspian find their way back to each other or will the threat of Caspian finding his mate keep them apart?

Mi novio, Miles, por fin me invitó a la cena navideña de su familia. Me desmayé de camino. Medio consciente, lo oí susurrar: —Lo siento, Eva. Esos matones dijeron que eres justo el tipo de su jefe. Demasiado bonita para tu propio bien, nena. Culpa a eso, no a mí. —No tengas miedo. Si me ayudas a pagar la deuda… tal vez me dejen recuperarte. Te lo compensaré. Por el resto de tu vida, lo juro. Me empujó en una silla de ruedas por la parte trasera de un casino. El casino de mi familia. El jefe al que me estaba vendiendo… era mi hermano. Desde que nuestros padres murieron en un fuego cruzado, mi hermano asumió toda la responsabilidad sobre mí. Más que un hermano, se convirtió en una figura paterna, un protector. Mi estúpido novio debería haber estado asustado. No tenía idea de lo ferozmente que mi hermano me protegía, ni de lo despiadado que podía ser con cualquiera que se atreviera a hacerme daño.

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding，in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

The night of our engagement party, I found my best friend playing a dangerous game with my fiancé. The casino on our family's private yacht was where I found them. Clara was sitting on the lap of my fiancé, Killian, the Falcone family heir. Killian held a sharp family dagger, its tip snagging the thin strap of her dress. The blade traced a path along her collarbone. The slightest pressure would snap the silk. It was a dangerous, intimate scene. I stepped forward with a frown, but Killian just scoffed. "It's just a little game to liven things up, Principessa. Don't be so tense." Clara's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "We're just playing a traditional family game. The knife game. You don't mind, do you, sweetie?" I was about to speak, but Killian's expression hardened. "We just got engaged and you're already trying to control me?" So I said nothing. I just drew my custom pistol from its holster on my thigh. "So, it's a game," I said. "Then let's play for something real."