Billionaire Flawed 1(231)

“I’m sorry father, I simply…” David said, but he didn’t know how to end the sentence, and so it trailed off into the air, like a line of smoke from a candle, twisting up higher until it vanished completely.

“How much money did you lose today?”

“I’m going to win it back tonight,” David said quickly.

“I doubt that very much, son,” Curtis said. “You have not been winning as of late.”

“You never seem to complain about my gambling habits until I’m losing, father,” David said.

“You like to gamble? Here’s a gamble for you then,” Curtis said, setting the book on his lap on a table beside him. “If you go to that card game tonight, and you don’t bring home the money you lost at the horse race today, I will cut you off. You will not spend my money anymore, you will not sleep in my home, nor eat my food.”

David couldn’t keep his mouth from hanging open. “But father!” he complained. “Surely you jest.”

“I do not,” Curtis said. “Of course, you can choose not to go to the game, and tomorrow you will accompany me to the bank and begin the transition so you may take over within a year.”

David stood up, shaking his head. “I don’t not want to run the bank,” he said shortly.

“Then I hope your card game goes well,” Curtis said, and he watched his son go from the library with his hard eyes.

David went into the kitchen in hopes of finding food, but the staff wasn’t there, being between meals, and he had to satisfy himself with some bread and butter he found on the counter. He ate two pieces and then went up into his room. He undressed and lay upon the bed.

When he woke, the sky outside of his windows was dark, with hundreds of shining stars blinking down tired light. David washed up at the water basin, splashing his face and drying off, before dressing in one of his finest suits, and hurrying out to find a cab. He did not come across his father, nor his mother or sisters, and for that he was thankful. It was a short ride through the city to Brook’s, a popular gentleman’s club which always had a number of card games going on.

David had been invited to play by a man everyone called Red because of his bright red head of hair. He was Irish, fair skinned and quick with a joke. He drank a lot, gambled a lot, and whored a lot, and there weren’t many in London who didn’t enjoy his company, one way or the other, depending on their sex.

David had befriended Red at a horse race the year previous, and they had gambled together often. Where David went in ups and downs, it seemed as though Red was always down. He lost often, and lost a lot, but there always seemed to be more money in his purse, and so he kept losing.

David arrived at the club and paid the driver before stepping inside and handing his coat and hat over to a young man who stood waiting to take it. He then made his way towards the back of the establishment, into a small room where Red usually played. There were three men in total around a small circular table, each of them preparing to play. Red saw David and stood and clapped his hands together.

“Finally we may start!” he said as David made his way to the empty chair beside his friend and they shook hands. David knew the other two men by name, and he bowed his head to them slightly as Red introduced each. Then he sat down, and they began to play.

The game of the night was Whist, and David played with a man named Samuel Carlyle as his partner. He was thankful it had worked out this way, he knew playing with the unlucky Red would be his downfall.

And indeed in the beginning, it looked as though he was well on his way towards winning back the money he had lost at the horse race, along with much more. And then his luck changed, and he and Samuel couldn’t win a hand in ten straight. His purse felt lighter and lighter, until finally, it was empty.

Despair and panic set in.

“I need a loan,” David said, turning to Red.

The Irish man laughed and shook his head, taking a moment to sip from a glass of brandy that had been brought to him by a pretty young woman earlier in the night.

“I think not,” Red said as he put the glass down. “You are my friend, and I do not want to mix business and friendship.”

“Please,” David said, leaning to the side, closer to Red. “My father…”

He trailed off, and Red shook his head slowly. “Is no concern of mine,” he said. “If you have no more money for me to win, perhaps you should leave.”

Red looked at David with narrowed eyes, and then they flicked to the doorway that led back towards the main hall of the gentlemen’s establishment. David was being dismissed, and he knew it. He stood, mustering up courage to keep some dignity intact, and he bowed his head after gathering his hat from a nearby rack.