The grand casino hall shimmered beneath golden chandeliers, the air thick with anticipation and perfume. Velvet-lined tables gleamed under crystal lights, each one surrounded by glamorous guests sipping champagne and placing high-stakes bets. Laughter, jazz, and the clinking of chips filled the air.
A playful voice rang out over the mic.
"Helloooooo! This is Daisy, your co-host for tonight! Today is casino day, and everyone must place a bet on their companion!"
A roar of excitement swept through the room.
"Bet as much as you can! Courtesans, don't be petty now! Win or lose, raise your head like the queen you are!"
"That's right!" someone hollered from a table.
Then the lights dimmed, and all heads turned toward the entrance.
"Welcome our party host… Blue Walker!"
Gasps and murmurs echoed as Harper stepped into the spotlight.
"That's Blue?"
"She's dangerous tonight."
"She looks like a sin."
She moved like a force of nature, the room seemingly slowing down with each step she took. Her midnight-blue skirt suit hugged her figure perfectly, the jacket tailored sharp and cropped above her waist. A wide-brimmed hat, tilted slightly, shadowed one eye. Red lips. Smoky eyes. Black stilettos clicked across the marble floor as she held a briefcase in one hand.
By the poker table, Quincy let out a low whistle through his teeth, hiding a smirk.
She's all grown. Quincy screamed inside, pulse racing. His eyes traced every inch of her body like he'd been starved for years.
Without saying a word, Harper walked past the crowd and stopped beside him. She handed the briefcase to Freya, then shrugged off her jacket with deliberate grace, revealing a satin bralette beneath. Her stomach was lean and toned, her skin gleaming softly under the lights.
"The game can start now!" Daisy announced cheerfully.
The sound of chips being poured onto the table snapped the tension like thunder. Players took their seats—noble courtesans and their companions, each one dressed to intimidate.
"Place your bet!"
"$500k," came the first confident call.
"$700k."
"Well then… let's do $1 million."
The room murmured. All eyes turned to Harper.
"Aren't you betting, Blue?"
She didn't speak. Just lifted her chin slightly.
"Freya?"
The briefcase snapped open. Stacks of cash lined up like trophies of war.
"$3 million."
A wave of shock rippled through the tables.
"Is Quincy that good with chips?"
"Definitely."
Quincy smirked. "Tobacco."
Sage stepped forward and handed Harper a slender gold cigarette holder. She placed it to his lips and lit it. Smoke curled around them like silk. She took it from his mouth Pulled. Blew smoke into his face—slowly, intimately.
"…Lose the first round."
He grinned. "Okay, baby."
The game began.
Round One.
Cards flipped.
Queen.
Queen.
Jack.
Ace.
Collins called, and the others gasped.
"Wow! He won the first round!"
Harper, unfazed, nodded to Freya.
"Add to the bet."
The table stacked higher.
Round Two.
Jack.
Queen.
Queen.
Ace.
"Rowan won!"
Quincy leaned over, amused. "Babe?"
She blew smoke into his face and said, "Win."
He smiled darkly, eyes glittering.
"Add to the bet."
Freya pushed the entire briefcase forward. Gasps turned into stunned silence.
"$10 million."
Gasps.
"$5 million more," Daisy added with a wicked grin.Her escort scrambled to match it.
"Another $5m from me," Jade added coolly, eyeing Harper like a rival queen.
Cards shuffled. The table now felt like a battlefield. Sweat beaded brows. Eyes flicked across chips, hands clenched under the table. Everyone was trying to read each other—and read Harper.
Round Three.
King.
Queen.
Jack.
Ace.
A chorus of gasps.
"He got the Spade?!"
"Quincy won!"
Quincy leaned forward slowly, his smirk devilish.
"Quincy won this round!" Daisy shouted, stunned.
Some players cursed under their breath. Others looked sick.
Harper sat on the table, legs crossed, dragging the chips toward her slowly. Her hand moved like she was painting a masterpiece—elegant and unapologetic. cigarette dangling from her fingers.
Quincy watched her like a man in love.
"How did I do, baby?"
She didn't answer. Just smirked.
"Thanks for the money, guys!"
"You're a manipulator, Blue!" Jade hissed. "You knew he had the trump card. That's why you kept raising!"
Harper's expression didn't flicker. "Oh my… I didn't know that. Besides, y'all won the first and second rounds."
"That was bait!"
"I placed the most bet here, boo. Nearly $20 million. I could've lost that."
"You knew you wouldn't."
"Too much confidence in my companion. He never loses."
"You took my money, Blue!"
Finally, she looked at her.
"You're a noble courtesan. You can't lose a few million for your man? It's just a bet."
"Stop smiling!"
"Sorry ma'am."
She pressed her lips shut, clearly amused. Then turned back to Quincy.
"Come here."
He stood, lifted her into his arms without effort. She wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled.
"You look insanely hot tonight. I wanna devour you."
"As you should."
He swung her up onto his shoulder. She waved dramatically.
"Have fun y'all! Your dear host is going to bed!"
Someone grumbled. "That damn girl."
"Jade," Daisy called out, still smiling. "Please continue the game."
"She ate my money!" Jade snapped.
"Try your luck again."
Jade huffed and sat, lips tight.
"Drop $5m."
The chips hit the table again. But the fire had already been stolen from the room.
The door shut with a soft click as Freya quietly exited, her heels retreating down the hall.
Inside the bedroom, everything slowed—just for a second.
Then Quincy spun Harper around, slamming her gently but firmly against the wall. Her back hit the cool surface with a gasp, her hat tumbling off her head in a lazy arc, landing on the floor like discarded armor.
His eyes drank her in.
Ruthlessly.
From her smudged red lips to the elegant bralette barely holding back the tension in her chest, to the bare skin of her waist glistening under the dim lights. He didn't say a word. Didn't need to. His gaze devoured her.
Then—he lunged.
Their mouths collided, mouths crashing with desperate hunger. Tongues tangling. Her moan vibrated against his lips.
"Quincy!" she gasped, breath hitching.
He pulled back, hands already working the clasp of her pants. With a swift tug, he slid them down her legs, tossing them aside like they meant nothing. Her socks followed, peeled off without ceremony.
She reached behind her back and unclasped her bralette herself, the strap snapping free with a soft flick. The satin dropped, pooling to the floor. Her chest rose and fell—bare, flushed, waiting.
He scooped her into his arms again, more possessively than before, her thighs gripping his waist. She didn't resist—she arched into him, kissed his jaw as he carried her.
Quincy dropped her onto the bed like a prize—precious, but his.
She landed with a bounce, hair fanning around her like ink on silk. Their eyes locked.
He didn't rush.
His fingers slid over the hem of his shirt, pulling it off slowly. Deliberately. Muscles flexing as fabric peeled away. His chest glistened under the bedroom lights, the curve of his collarbone sharp, neck taut with restraint.
His eyes never left hers.
The shirt hit the floor in silence, but the tension between them was screaming.
Harper's breath caught as Quincy stood at the foot of the bed, bare-chested, shoulders broad and carved like stone. His gaze was molten—dark, consuming, and focused entirely on her as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
Her legs shifted slightly, thighs brushing together in anticipation. The room was thick with heat—desire clinging to the air like perfume.
Quincy climbed onto the bed, slow and deliberate, his weight making the mattress dip beneath him. Harper arched back onto her elbows, watching him move toward her like a predator closing in.
"You're so damn beautiful," he murmured, voice low and rough, the words dragging over her skin like velvet.
She bit her lip as he came closer, hovering above her. He trailed a hand from her ankle upward, past her shin, over the curve of her thigh—softly, as though memorizing her by touch.
Her skin shivered under his fingers.
His hand reached her waist and gripped it firmly. With his other hand, he brushed hair from her face and leaned in to kiss her again—this time slower, deeper, like he was savoring every second. Her hands slid up his arms, nails digging gently into his shoulders.
Their bodies pressed together, skin on skin, heat to heat.
"You drive me insane," he whispered against her mouth, voice thick with lust and something deeper—need, reverence, possession.
"Then lose your mind with me," she whispered back, pulling him down.
Their mouths collided again, messier now, desperate. His lips traced her jaw, her neck, lower. She gasped and tangled her fingers in his hair, arching into every touch, every kiss, every drag of his mouth on her skin.
He moved with purpose now, undoing the last barriers between them.
There was no noise but the sound of breaths caught and released, sheets rustling beneath them, and the muffled thud of a headboard hitting the wall in a rhythm uniquely theirs.
Time blurred.
The room was a storm of heat and motion and passion—an eruption of everything they had suppressed, every desire finally given permission to burn.
When it was over, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into his chest like a treasure he could never afford to lose. Their bodies slick with sweat, legs tangled together, heartbeats syncing in silence.
"I love you," he whispered, voice hoarse but honest.
She smiled against his skin, eyes closed. "I love you more."