Gambling Destroyed My Life Novels & Stories

“You sound like you know a few people addicted to gambling.” “I have an uncle that bet away his family’s house and kids’ college funds. While you wouldn’t think the amount was a lot, to his wife and children it was everything. And still to this day, as he sits by himself up in some crappy apartment in Las Vegas, he will tell you that gambling is just a hobby. He refuses to admit that there’s even a possibility of a problem.” “His family left him?”

Yet. And as if that wasn’t enough… my family was falling apart. “If it weren’t for your gambling, Romy, we wouldn’t have lost the business!” I heard Mom shout. I took a shaky breath, listening to them fight again. Dad’s gambling. The store is going bankrupt. The debts are piling up. “I told you, Romy! I told you we couldn’t survive like this!” “I’m sorry… You don’t need to remind me every second…” “I’ll remind you every day!”

I can let the money I spent on Rosalind go, but other people were never entitled to it. … Three months later, Rosalind's father's company closed down again without my backing or my behind-the-scenes guidance. He'd long developed a gambling addiction. Once he lost his source of income, he gambled away everything they had left. In just three months, their standard of living plummeted. It was worse than it had been before Rosalind married me. Money could elevate a person, but it could also destroy one. Perhaps this was karma. They'd assumed they could do anything they wanted with me as their backing.

Four million dollars was practically forty million to her. " You said...." Her hands clenched tightly. "You said the money was for the new business. You said we were going to start over." "Yes we would have! But then...then I thought." His voice broke. "Just one game. I could double it or triple it. Pay back the loan early and even have enough left over to really do it right." Alura closed her eyes as tears slid down her cheek. She held her nose bridge with a shaky hand. Of course. Of course it was gambling. Again. It was always gambling. Her mother had died when she was ten, and her father had spent the last fifteen years slowly destroying everything her mother left behind.

Gambling had begun as an escape—a thrill, a temporary diversion from the pressures of life—but it had quickly become a dangerous addiction, consuming both his mind and his finances. At first, it was small stakes: a few rand here, a bet there. But soon, each loss demanded riskier moves to recoup what he had lost. The adrenaline rush, fleeting yet intoxicating, kept him coming back despite the growing shadow of fear and shame. Nights bled into mornings, often unnoticed, as he chased elusive wins while bills and responsibilities mounted at home.

And when I yanked her hair and came in her tight pussy, I knew that this was another thing Hazel had been keeping me from. Then there was gambling. I’d never had much in terms of money, but since living with Hazel I was doing decent. Here, however, in the glow of casino games, with the alluring click of gambling dice, I had the chance to be better. To make better for myself and become rich with one game. When the losses started happening, it was easy not to blame myself. Yes, I was gambling away money, but those risks were so I could build a better life. But Hazel? Stupid, worthless Hazel? She was the real waste of money.

Because that was what he was about to do and I had no control over my fate. I was not even 18 years old yet. I had to find my mate so I could get out of this crazy family! That was what I used to think, that finding a mate was a one-way ticket out of all these miseries! Don't blame me if he goes broke gambling! He had been gambling for a long time and even made my biological mother die of depression. Now that my stepfather had remarried, his gambling craze had not diminished and had only gotten worse. It happened because my stepmother was also a gambling craze!

“What are you not telling me? I can see in your eyes that there’s something else. What other thing did you do with the money?” There’s silence for a long time before he finally speaks. “I gambled some of it away.” “Huh? You did what?” “Listen, I have a problem, okay? I have a serious gambling addiction. I tried to stop, believe me, I tried, but I couldn’t. It got worse after your mother and I got divorced, and somehow, I never stopped after that.” He tells me, unable to look me in the eye.

I made her sit on the bed and I sat beside her still holding her hand. " I didn't like to watch so many people gambling. I didn't want to see my family members gambling. It spoils lives... Lives of their spouses and children. I have seen how this habit of gambling change everything my loving and doting father changed into a stranger and uncaring man. He became friends with the wrong people and our life started changing. It has never been the way it was since he started drinking and gambling. He started beating mom and lost his job. I am sorry but the moment I saw them so excited, I could not control my emotions. " She said and more tears rolled down her cheeks.

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 was what gambling did to you. It eats you up from the inside-out and leaves you a shell, a hollow of yourself. Worst of all, you can't stop either. The devil would always be on your shoulders, whispering sweet promises of double abundance. Urging you to take that risk and when you do, he’d leave you alone, crackling in laughter as you fall deeper and deeper into the dark hole of despair.