Fyodor Dostoevsky The Gambler นิยาย & เรื่องราว

one of the lackeys greeted him, stepping back with a bow. Sylvester's eyes scanned the room with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Who's betting with me tonight?" he asked, already settling into his seat, ever the confident gambler. A murmur went through the crowd as an elderly man was pointed out. He was an aged man who must have spent his entire life gambling, a notorious gambler by the looks. "I go by the name Casio, the unbeatable poker face." The man said with a wicked grin. Sylvester led out a loud chuckle, underrating the old man already.

I lost it too long ago. “Please—” I pulled the trigger and watched the light leave his eyes. His body dropped to the ground like a sack of tomatoes. Blood splattered onto the creaking, rusty floor of his crappy as fuck house. I could practically smell the stench of his poverty. This is what gambling does to you. It eats you up from the inside out and leaves you a shell, a hollow of yourself.

I whisper. “Just listen to yourself! He’s a bloody liar. I don’t believe he’s going to change for one instant. You dig him out of this hole and he’ll find himself back in another as soon as he can. Someone who started gambling recently doesn’t lose this kind of big money. He’s obviously been gambling for God knows how long!” By now Rosa has become so agitated the table next to us can barely keep their focus on their food.

Chapter 25 Julianna’s Pov:- Who is he? I stared at him with curious eyes while they both were climbing the stairs; this Lorenzo guy is creepy. He gives a serious dominant vibe and looks like a dangerous man. The kind of man people stay away from or don’t mess with. Who is he though? Are Nikolai friends with these kinds of scary people? Of course, he is a Russian mafia don, what do you expect? My subconscious replied. Yeah… “Julia?” Penelope's voice reached my ears,

In the middle the two women went at it, both bleeding already, neither of them showing any sign of stopping. I should have kept walking. I knew what I was the second I slowed down, because I have known it a long time. I am a gambler. Not the kind who does it for fun on a holiday. The kind it's wrong with. I had it before my father died, before the business went bad, before any of the things people like to blame. I couldn't watch two of anything go up against each other without needing money on it. Cards, horses, which raindrop beats the other one down a window. Didn't matter. The need was the same every time and it never once asked whether I could afford it.

The private investigator had come through. For the right price, one could find out anything, down to what color socks a man wore on a Tuesday. The burglar went by the street name Rat, and his real name did not matter. What mattered was that he was a gambler, and most of what he stole ended up lost at underground card tables before the week was out. Dad studied the photograph of the man, a wiry, rat-faced figure caught mid-stride by a surveillance camera, and looked at him the way he used to look at a debt that would never be repaid.

During the argument, the gambler sneered and said: "I heard you got married. Your wife is that girl from the Hemingway family clinic, right? If you won't give me money, I'll just ask her for it instead. I'm her father-in-law. You think she'd dare refuse me?" That single sentence made the already weakened Zack completely lose control. He lunged at him like a madman. However, how could he possibly beat someone desperate enough to kill without hesitation? It did not take long before Zack was pinned to the ground, beaten until he was covered in injuries. Even then, he still refused to let go of him. "If you dare go near her, I'll kill you!" Those words completely pushed the gambler over the edge

Qin Haodong said, "He didn't die because of the stone, but rather due to his own greed. He blindly wanted to get something for nothing, and wanted to get rich overnight. The ultimate result can only be death." He had no compassion for that type of gamblers. Whether it was the Cultivation World or the earth, such people could be found everywhere. All those who were addicted to gambling would end up miserable. The person's death did not create too many waves in the raw gemstone exhibition. People forgot about him very quickly and continued to turn their attention to the stones. The little fellow didn't understand that. Her big eyes were fixed on the gambling stone scene next to her. It was as

It sank even deeper but I tried not to show it. "Why are you telling me? You usually don't." He was quiet, till he breathed. "I don't know," before his footsteps got entirely erased. * * * * My fingers trailed across the spine of the books and I stopped on a white covered book. I pull it out of the shelf and hold it in both hands. "Crime and Punishment," I read aloud before gazing down at the author's name. "Fyodor Dos-tos-to-eeev-evsky?" I squint my eyes. "Fyodor Dostoevsky!"

Because he's still his father and as a son, you can't stop him from worrying about his father. Even if it's against my heart. I did nothing to stop Joseph from his decision. Joseph left with his car. While I have a nervousness in my chest that won't go away until it returns to my side. "Joseph... be careful, we will wait for you as your son. We will wait for your return." I gasped in the air while staring at Joseph's car leaving. • • • Pov Dymon Dymon just arrived from the big gambling house he set up. He had planned this for a long time. The establishment of gambling where rich businessmen can enjoy it.