Fyodor Dostoevsky The Gambler Novels & Stories

“You’re flirting with death. I’m not the only person who could take you down.” The accusation sticks tighter than it would have before El, before the heartbeat in that little office, but I sip my coffee like his words don’t mean a thing to me. The waitresses don’t seem to give a fuck about our little scuffle, at least. “Do you have anything other than threats?” I ask. Henry sighs. “Fyodor’s not a totally uncommon name, but I did some digging, and I was able to connect it to a guy called Raskolnikov, who dropped off the map in Russia about a month before Fyodor started moving over here.”

“It’s just a damn Audi A4! It’s nothing but child’s play! I thrashed it as entertainment for all of you!” All the gamblers were rich and no one cared about the car. They were more concerned about the men who asked Hades for the car. “Hades, that man is Dan Niners, a new gangster boss in the underworld. If you wreck the car like that, aren’t you afraid he’d come back for revenge?” asked one of the gamblers. If he was not afraid of offending Hades, he would have left the place when Dan came in. Truth be told, many other gamblers were afraid that Dan might come back with more men for revenge.

I discovered it by accident, from a document that was slipped while I was visiting his office and I ended up reading them. Ciel Casino. A casino designed to defraud gamblers of their funds. Everything that transpired there was a trick of the light. Father was a cunning man who opened the casino to both nobles and commoners. Every time a commoner or aristocrat who was lower than him won a gamble, he would take their money by force without exception. Of course, if the threat was unsuccessful, he would assassinate the individual without leaving a trace. He was never found guilty because he wasn't the one who got his hands dirty. In his own way, he is clever.

There was poker, roulette, blackjack and many more. With the small shy smile on my face, I was like an outcast. Everyone here either looked angry, serious or joyfully sinister. I under stood why. Gambling is a serious business. No matter how much money you gained or lost, there is always another bet. The feeling of desperation is thick here, silently taunting someone to make a choice, to lay all their money down. They were being milked like cows. The lot of them.

"I almost got my money back at dawn." John's mumbled, his hands were shaking with sad emotion. His problem was, he played without consciousness. When he won and got lots of money he didn't stop but kept going with the hope to gain more. He would have to blame greed in his own heart. Gambling was one of the most powerful tools of the devil. It blurred a man's mind and blinded his consciousness, pulled him into the whirlpool of false hope. with greed that a man had installed deep within his heart.

Accompanied by his strange cries, she grabbed his arm and threw him out again. "Bang!" The male gambler hit a gambling table. "Clatter!" This time, the gambling table was directly smashed into pieces, and he gave an exaggerated scream. A bit of worry flashed in the female gambler’s beautiful eyes obviously. But she refrained from coming over, snorted coldly, and turned back. The male gambler turned over and lay on the ground with arms and legs stretched, muttering that woman was the most poisonous. All the people were confused by this scene.

“No one leaving has quite as lively a step as those arriving.” “When they first get here, they think Lady Luck sits on their shoulder.” “I suppose they soon discover that she doesn’t.” Reaching out, he tucks a few loose strands behind my ear. A warm shiver flows through me, but I keep my gaze focused on the street. It might prove very dangerous to look at him just now, with other rooms… bedchambers… nearby. “She doesn’t exist. She’s merely a figment of some poor fool’s imagination. Do you know the worst thing that can happen to a man the first time he visits a gambling hell?”

She had assumed he was just being his usual cold self, but maybe he could only be that calm because he knew there was no chance of Elena dying. It also wouldn't be the first time Massimo rigged a game of chance for Elena. "Gambling isn't about playing fair—it's about winning and losing. Those who don't have the guts or skills to win deserve to lose." Massimo had said those very words to her after her first game of poker. And Russian Roulette, despite its more deadly stakes, was still a game of chance. It was still a form of gambling, wasn't it? There was only one way to be sure. Elena looked over at Massimo. She waited for him to meet her gaze.

It's just an angry thought arising in the back of her mind. You're not so different from your father. You bet big when you decided to cheat Reviello, and now you're going to lose everything. Are you sure you're not a gambling addict? You broke a clause in the contract, knowing that he could put a leash around your neck and drag you away like a fucking dog. You like the thrill. Furthermore, you like to challenge your odds, even when the stakes are high. The blood is strong, after all. — SHIT, STOP THINKING. STOP THINKING, STOP...

Not the largest fish among the garbage, but dodgy enough. The meaning of what he said came to me very slowly, and I looked up at him. - Gorov was a player. Like Jack, for which he got his nickname. - Alyosha caught my eye and nodded at the casino card in my hands. - Do you know who else was a player? I looked down again at the number written on the back of the card. He was not familiar to me, just a set of numbers, but nevertheless a very familiar name came to mind.