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Chapter 66 by BreaktheBar BreaktheBar

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Undercover Poker Party, Part 3

“Gregory, a pleasant surprise,” Marc said, reaching out and shaking the older man’s hand. He was in his mid-sixties and Marc would never have thought he would catch the old financier at a poker game like this. Maybe at a VIP table where the buy-in was ten times the amount as Victor’s little game, surrounded by other men who had made their first millions during the Dot-Com boom and cashed in during the 2008 financial crisis by sheer luck of not being in the harder hit industries.

“What’s a man like you doing in a place like this?” Gregory asked.

“I was invited by a recent acquaintance,” Marc said truthfully. “And I am being joined by a much better friend this evening. Gregory, this is my dear friend Sinead. Sinead, my dear, this is Gregory Stanhope - a titan of industry.”

“Oh, lay off it, Marc,” Gregory chuckled, smiling slickly as he took Sinead’s hand lightly in a shake. “Charmed, dear.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Sinead answered, her smile saying one thing but the glint in her eye telling Marc that she was filing away every little fact for later perusal.

“Speaking of men finding themselves in places like this,” Marc said. “I’m here more as a courtesy to said acquaintance. What are you doing here, Gregory?”

“Well, I’m a guest,” the older man said. “My youngest daughter fancies herself as something of a poker player; wants to get herself into the big tournaments in Las Vegas and such. Turns out she was secretly using the allowance I was giving her to play. When she asked me to help her stake for one of those big games, I told her I needed to see her play when the stakes were real before I’d put up cash for that. She knew some people who knew some people, and got herself an invite to this game.”

“Ah,” Marc said, looking around the room. They had shifted a little way from the door and towards the bar. “This would be… Andrea? Wendy’s daughter?”

“Right, right,” Gregory nodded. He’d been divorced three times, having a kid or two with each wife. “She’s over… a, it looks like she’s making friends.”

Marc and Sinead both looked across the room to where a young brunette woman, maybe only nineteen at best, was talking with a couple of ladies who were in their mid-twenties and were likely strippers. All three of them were gorgeous, but where the strippers were dressed up, Andrea was dressed a little down compared to the other women in the room. She was wearing a button-down blouse and slacks, had minimal makeup and sunglasses up on her forehead. It looked like she was planning on giving away as little as possible during the game.

“Greg,” Marc said, lowering his voice a little as the main doors opened and Rachel ushered in a trio of men and a woman, all with dark skin and severe looks to them even if they were smiling. By their accents, he could tell they were Jamaicans. “I’m not looking to question your judgement here, but… this game seems like it’s a bit of a volatile crowd.”

“It’s about eighty per cent criminal,” Sinead added in.

“That’s exactly what she needs to prove herself capable of handling,” Gregory said. “If my daughter wants to be a professional gambler, of all things, I told her she should just go into the Stock Market, but no - she wants to play cards for a living. If that’s the case, this is the sort of element she’ll be rubbing shoulders with. Better that happen with me here than not, I say.”

“You’re… a wonderful father,” Sinead said.

“Well, thank you,” Gregory nodded with a smile. “Though, Marc, I will say that the same question can fly right back in your face.”

“Very true,” Marc sighed. “Though, perhaps - ah, you may want to go check on your daughter, Greg.” Marc had cut off because Andrea’s little trio of women had been joined by a trio of men, and it was very clear that the youngest of them was making a pass at his daughter.

“Mm,” Gregory grunted, narrowing his eyes. “A father’s job is never done.”

“Enjoy your night,” Marc sighed, giving him a pat on the back as Gregory headed off across the room.

“Jesus Christ,” Sinead murmured, turning her back to most of the room so she could speak quietly to Marc. “This place is…”

“A hive of scum and villainy?” Marc asked with a little smile.

“Are you quoting Star Wars to me?” Sinead asked. “Really?”

“You recognized it,” Marc pointed out.

“Whatever,” Sinead said. “Yes. It’s a hive. Those guys that just came in? They are the same ones who Victor meets with when making deals with the Jamaicans. Bad news. So is most of the room.”

“I had an idea of that,” Marc acknowledged. “Is it too much? Should we leave?”

Sinead hesitated but shook her head. “We just need to be careful.”

“Then the first step to that, ma petite rebelle, is to relax,” Marc said. “Which starts with us each having a drink.”

Marc and Sinead went to the bar, and Marc pursued the short list of wine that was available before ordering a glass for each of them. Sinead gave him a look that said she could order for herself, but Marc just gave her a little smile and put a hand on the small of her back. That seemed to dampen her verve to assert herself, which Marc noted. Physical touch, it seemed, was one of her receptive ‘love languages.’

They mingled a little, though Sinead purposefully took a back seat to remain less conspicuous, talking with some of the other obvious guests rather than the players. At the same time, Marc eased himself into his usual headspace of rubbing elbows at fundraisers and events - it really wasn’t that much different, talking with ruthless corporate raiders or with a member of the Hells Angels. They were all people, they all appreciated a good conversation that respected boundaries.

More folks slowly filtered into the room, with Victor showing up a few minutes after a trio of Native Americans who looked pissed off to be there, but broke into smiles as a waitress brought their pre-prepared drinks to them.

“Hello, friends,” Victor said, raising a hand to catch the attention of the room. “We’re just a little past the hour, so it’s time to get our friendly game underway. Rachel will distribute your seat assignments for the first round, so once you have those please make your way to your seats.”

Breakthebar erotica is powered by Patreon, where early chapters are released ahead for all of my series. Le Francais is a Commissioned Work. PM if interested in helping fund the series, or if you are looking to commission a story of your own!

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