Taking a Gamble
Summary: Rosemarie Hathaway loves to gamble. Her father, Abe Mazur, has enough money to let Rose indulge in her little obsession. He has so much, in fact, that it doesn't faze either of them when she loses. What happens when she meets Adrian Ivashkov, the gambler who understands Rose's need for gambling, as he has one too? Or, when she meets Dimitri Belikov, the one man she can't risk losing? Who will help her when she finds herself in deeper debt than even Abe Mazur can pay off?
I don't own VA.
RPOV
"Bust." I smirked. The corner's of the dealers mouth turned down slightly, though he tried to hide is obvious frustration. I already made about three hundred dollars, but I wanted a drink before I kept on going. I winked at the blue-eyed, blonde-haired dealer who was collecting the cards, then turned and looked at the crowd I always attracted.
"Even one as talented as I am needs a little refreshment every now and then when playing Blackjack, so you'll be seeing me in ten," I announced, rather cockily, over the blaring sounds of slot machines and profanity yelled by those who had lost money, sauntering off to the bar to get myself some good old Jack Daniels. I leaned against the marble bar waiting for the bartender to make an appearance. Soon enough, a girl who looked to be in her early twenties with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes approached and smiled cheerily at me. Her uniform was the same as every other employer except for the chefs and security guards: a white button down shirt with a buttoned-up burgundy vest, tie, and black slacks. Her gold name-tag read Alisha.
"What'll it be?" She asked in a tinkling voice.
"A glass of Jack Daniels, please, no ice." I requested, but my eyes were scanning the slot machines, while I started to come to the decision that maybe I had enough of Blackjack for one night.
"Sure thing, Sugar." She said, and proceeded to fix me my drink. She leaned over the counter and handed it to me. I said my thanks and my mind was already drifting from the appeal of the slot machines to the poker table. I set my whiskey down and cleared myself a seat. A snort came from beside me.
"You playing, sweetheart?" a deep and sultry voice sounded from beside me, and I turned to see a sexy smirk and piercing green eyes.
And immediately I knew who this was.
I'm a pretty big gambler, everyone knows this. Everyone knows that Rosemarie Hathaway has money to blow and she loves to blow it here. But after my years of gambling and creating, perfecting, and applying strategies the money stopped being totally blown and only increased. I'm not undefeated. I still lose, on the odd night I have, maybe once or twice a month, but when making a bet or playing a gambling game, I can certainly hold my own. I'd be lying if I said that my name wasn't well-known.
But Adrian Ivashkov?
I'm surprised his name isn't used in textbooks.
He is totally, and completely undefeated. He has a fortune that puts mine to shame, and I have a lot. My father is Abe Mazur, owner of a few casinos here in Las Vegas, Nevada, and is filthy rich. My mother, Janine Hathaway, had me young and Abe walked out. As I got older, my mother got more distant and decided to follow the dream she had before she got pregnant with me and it so happened that at the same time, Abe decided that he wanted to better get to know his daughter. This was around the time I was fifteen, and since then he's spoiled me rotten. It's his way of making it up to me. I was always quite rebellious, and hooked up with quite a few guys, and gambled. Even though I was now twenty-two, I was still a virgin. But Adrian Ivashkov? His father own's more than just a few casinos. His father is Nathan Ivashkov, and he owns the large, well-known, expensive hotels with the casinos put inside, like Caesars. As far as I know, he didn't have any family issues, but he was still pretty spoiled. He is the king of any slot machine, any table game, and any bets that could be made. The ultimate risk-taker. He goes through cash like he goes through women, and from what I've heard, he's had a lot of women. Tramps, high-class, even the biggest prude would drop their pants for Adrian Ivashkov. Who wouldn't, really? Emerald-green eyes, shaggy brown hair, a killer smirk with pink full lips with a prominent cupid's bow, and a swagger that had you turn your head to his presence. But he's also quite the alcoholic, and a heavy smoker.
And he's here. Playing this table. And you were on such a roll tonight, too, Rose. Wait, no. I'm not backing down. I never back down. And, I always have my little mantra for whenever I'm rethinking a gamble, I don't have anything worth keeping.
I straightened my skin-tight, simple black dress.
"Yeah, what's it to you?"
"Huh. Long black hair, brown eyes, killer legs, and a bad attitude. You're Hathaway." His eyes trailed lazily up and down, in a way that sent a rush through me that I only ever felt when I gamble. Well, wasn't this gambling now?
"Heavy scent of Cloves, empty beer bottle, green eyes and brown hair. You're Ivashkov." I leaned back and mimicked his movement with the eyes in a show of playful mockery, though it was really a way for me to check him out. Yeah, he's a really lady-killer.
He laughed. A throaty sound that would have been really sexy had it not been tainted by cigarettes.
"I definitely want to get to know you more. But first, how about you sit right across from me and we can enjoy a nice little game of poker?" He threw me a wink that was all fox.
I put my head high up in the air and, swaying my hips a little to give Ivashkov a show, strolled right passed the sorry suckers who were also playing at our table, and took a seat right across from Adrian. His poker-face was now on, placed perfectly, and I wanted to see how much I could make it slip. I stretched out my bare leg and ran my high black heel up his designer jeans, then quickly pulled it back down.
His poker face remained the same, except for a small twitch of his lips and a small, quick intake of breath, and I smirked, then graciously took my poker chips.
Maybe I had a chance at winning this.
Though it really doesn't matter if I lose, because it's not like I have anything worth keeping.
A/N: So. I'm writing a story. The first chapter is not as good as the second one (which I've already started) and it's kind of shorter than what I'm used to writing (outside of fanfiction) but I don't think it's that bad, I actually like it.
Now be like Rose and take a chance by sending me a review, you never know, you might win a prize in the next chapter. ;)
