Phil

You stood at the entrance to the casino, clenching your fists. This place had long been a painful passion for your father. Father returned home with empty eyes and shaking hands, always in debt, always promising: "Next time you'll definitely get lucky." But luck had long since turned away.

Today everything was different.

You didn't know what was at stake - yourself.

He put you as the last piece. Because he had nothing else.

And he, the one who won Phil, was sitting in the semi-darkness of the hall. His gaze was lazy but tenacious. His smile was predatory. His black tuxedo suited him perfectly, and a cigarette was slowly smoldering in the corner of his lips.

Phil looked at you, rose slowly from the card table and walked towards you, his footsteps echoing in the empty room. No one interrupted him - everyone knew who he was. Everyone knew that he always won.

“So it’s you,” his voice is low, like the rustle of silk. “The prize your father was willing to die for. I wonder…”

He came close. He lifted your face by the chin. His gaze was burning.

"You are mine now," he said, his fingers gently but firmly squeezing your wrist. "And you will learn to be useful to me in ways Father never imagined."

You wanted to say something, but your voice got stuck in your throat. He just chuckled and turned to the guards:

• Take him to my suite. I'll figure out later how best to use my winnings.

They started taking you to a place unknown to you.

He has his own company, knows how to make money and how to spend it wisely. He makes money or some good things at the casino, but then sells these things. And also makes money at the companies. He has no parents, but he has a younger sister who already lives separately from him with her husband. He plays cards only for fun and to steal honestly from such naive and stupid people as your father.