As his colleagues perspired profusely, Angelo remained calm, collected, and confident. He was the proprietor of this establishment, and he knew that losing a few thousand pounds would not put a dent in his deep pockets. The young dealer, scarcely older than twenty-five, stood before him, his bow tie askew, and a small imperfection that irked Angelo to no end. With a barely perceptible eye-roll, he watched the dealer nervously adjust his tie and swallow hard.

Angelo's opponents began to sweat in fear as the game commenced, their palms slick with perspiration. But Angelo's nerves of steel held strong, and he knew he had this game in the bag. "All in," he declared boldly. He could hear the whispers of the crowd around him, doubting his skill despite his numerous past victories. The dealer hesitated, but Angelo's steely gaze quelled any objections, and the game continued.

At first, it was a simple game, a game of chance and luck, but soon, it became clear that Angelo's opponents were outmatched. As the game progressed, the tension mounted, and it was all too clear that the other players had made a grave error in challenging Angelo. By the end of it, they were weeping and tearing their hair out in frustration, unable to believe the extent of their losses.

Angelo watched them go, and his gaze turned towards the casino floor below. There, he saw the rich and the glamorous throwing their money away, betting recklessly, and losing everything they had worked for. But the sound of the slot machines and the smell of whiskey and tobacco in the air had an allure that was irresistible to many. Here, in this lavish, opulent casino, the guests could forget their humdrum lives, forget their troubles, and lose themselves in the thrill of the game.

But even amidst all the excitement, there were always those who tried to cheat the system. Angelo's sharp eyes caught sight of a group of men causing a ruckus at the craps table, and he knew they were up to no good. His voice boomed out over the noise, and the group of men turned to face him, their faces a mix of anger and fear.

But Angelo was not a man to be trifled with, and with a few words, he quickly put them in their place.

As they slunk away in shame, Angelo couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. This was his casino, his kingdom, and he was determined to protect it at all costs. He knew that no matter what obstacles came his way, he would face them with the same steely determination that had brought him this far. For here, in this world of glamour and chance, there was no place for the faint-hearted.

"Mr. Sorrentino" Angelo straightened himself. He did not need to turn around to know that the person calling out to him was Tito, his most trusted bodyguard.

"I can tell from your tone that you have nothing but bad news for me; now, can I hear this bad news?" Angelo urged him calmly, but inside himself, he was brewing with anger.

"He did it again," Tito informed him; he sounded almost out of breath. Angelo smiled; for years he had been urging Tito to lose some weight. How he had stayed alive this long in the dangerous world that they lived in, Angelo had no idea.

But unlike most people that Angelo knew, Tito was a sharp shooter and never missed a shot. Turning on his heel, he faced Tito, who always had a straight face and looked as though he was on the verge of murdering someone.

Angelo was unaware of how many people Tito had killed, and he never cared to ask; these types of things were never to be spoken of.

"Let me guess, our mysterious friend outbid us again?" he questioned.

"He did not outbid us; he simply moved the date of the auction up," Tito informed him; this caught Angelo's attention.

"Moved the date of the auction up? Interesting," Angelo said, smirking, but it was killing him on the inside.

"I apologize, Mr. Sorrentino, but we will get to the bottom of this," he promised Angelo.

"Of course I know you will, now get moving; we have a competitor to crush," Angelo told him. He watched as Tito and two of his other bodyguards stepped back and exited his private room.

Once they were gone, Angelo looked around the room, and all he could see was red. Not wanting to waste another second, he stormed out of his private room.

He needed to breathe, and he needed to do it now, and the best place to do that was in his garden.

**

"I know that you have a lot on your plate, but you cannot keep coming late all the time; I can only cover until you get caught!" Margaret advised Emily, who was rushing to put on her uniform.

Once again, she had arrived late to work, and the more she kept coming late, the more she was running out of excuses to give to her manager.

"I'm sorry, I had to run all the way here" Emily continued dressing while talking to her manager, Margaret, who looked at her with saddened eyes. Unlike most people around Emily, Margaret was one of the very few people who were aware that her son Gorgio had been sick since birth and was not showing any signs of recovery.

"Oh poor you—"

"Please, Margaret, don't pity me," Emily pleaded; the last thing she needed was either people pitying her or she pitying herself.

"Okay, I won't. But I want you to go inside the casino and serve these drinks" Margaret informed her, before handing her a silver tray containing eight glasses of expensive wines.

"Is there anything else I should know before I leave the kitchen?"

"Oh! Use the private garden," Margaret ordered, but not before Emily's eyes grew wide, almost terrified of the words that Margaret had uttered.

"The private garden?" Emily asked, hoping that her employer had made a mistake.

"Yes, I said the private garden! I know we're not supposed to go through there, but it's either that or enjoy being stared at like a piece of meat by those unruly old men," Margaret informed her.

Emily simply nodded her head and proceeded towards the private garden; although she had never set her eyes on Angelo Sorrentino, she had heard some pretty gruesome stories about him, and one of his rules was that no one should enter his private garden.

There was simply no time to stroll, so Emily took it upon herself to increase her speed.

"Hey!" she yelled. It was as if time had stopped, and she watched all eight glasses and the silver tray fly up into the air before landing on someone's expensive-looking tux.