Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Table of Fortunes

When night fell, the hour stole colour from the sky over the town of Brackenwell. The streets had turned mostly deserted with lanterns burning along the narrow roads.

Harold Belmont pulled his coat tighter around himself as he walked. His footsteps moved quickly as if he had somewhere important to be. He finally arrived at an establishment where one could hear the clatter of coins and chatter.

Straightening his shoulders, Mr. Belmont pushed the door and stepped inside.

"Rough day, Belmont?" one of the regulars called out, eyeing the bruise darkening Harold’s cheek. "Looks like fortune finally hit back."

"Quite literally," another remarked, which had a few men snort.

Mr. Belmont’s mouth tightened and he snapped, "Mind your business. As if you are any better than me," he muttered under his breath.

"Shall I pour you a glass?" asked the owner of the place.

"I don’t need the cheap thing. Bring me something decent," Mr. Belmont said with a wrinkled sneer.

"Of course, only the best. Though you know it needs to be paid up front," the owner informed with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Mr. Belmont shot him a look of pure disdain. Once upon a time, he would have never been spoken to in such a manner. In the past, men used to rise when he entered a room.

He had been a respectable man once who was nearly seated at the courthouse, almost counted among men of importance. Men bowed at him but then the damn war had ruined everything. He was swept aside and was left in a corner of the world that no longer cared for his name.

With a begrudging expression, Mr. Belmont produced a few shillings from his pocket and dropped them into the man’s palm.

"Thank you," the owner bowed and said, "I’ll have your drink brought over."

Mr. Belmont’s eyes drifted across the room as he weighed each man in there, searching for the weakest hands.

Then he noticed a particular table at the back of the room. Unlike the others, where dull copper coins lay in meagre piles, this one gleamed with silver and some pieces of gold.

Now that was a table worthy of him and his hope rose quickly. That was the money that could change his week or month!

Seeing how the three men seated there finished a round of the game, he made his way to the table while his cane clicked lightly against the floor.

"I was so close," one of them complained, tossing his cards onto the table. He watched the other member at the table push the coins before setting them aside. "Another hand and I would have had you."

"Being close to winning doesn’t matter. You still lost, Stuart," the dirty blond man replied with a smirk.

"You were just lucky, Jay," Stuart rolled his eyes.

Mr. Belmont paused beside them, letting his presence announce itself. But when no one paid attention to him, he spoke, "Gentlemen, mind if I join you?"

He rested a hand on the back of an empty chair, already assuming the answer would be yes.

"Do you have the money?" Jay asked, raising his brows as he sized up Mr. Belmont.

"I do," Mr. Belmont replied with confidence.

"Then take a seat. The more the merrier, don’t you agree, gentlemen?" Jay gestured to the empty chair.

Mr. Belmont accepted at once, sitting comfortably in it as if he hadn’t been hit by the debt collectors this morning.

The cards were shuffled before they were given to each of the four players. Mr. Belmont was more than pleased to notice he had received good cards.

Jay, the blond man to his left leaned back in his chair with confidence, rearranging the cards like someone who was accustomed to winning.

The man sitting directly in front of Mr. Belmont was quick to discard his cards. He scratched his chin and sighed as though already bored.

Then there was the person on his right, turning his cards with maddening slowness. It made Mr. Belmont increasingly impatient. The only good thing was that this person dropped cards that he needed and it made him chuckle inwardly.

These three men appeared to have more money than sense. Perfect, Mr. Belmont thought. He would be more than happy to take it from them.

When Mr. Belmont drew his final card, he slid it neatly into his hand and revealed his set with a triumphant smile. He declared,

"Looks as though I have won this round." He then reached for the coins as if they were already his rightful property.

"How unfair," Stuart sighed. "I seem to have lost this round as well."

"It appears fortune has taken a liking to you tonight. Beating me is no small feat," Jay remarked to Harold. "You must have experience."

Mr. Belmont was going to agree to Jay when the person seated on his right spoke,

"One can acquire a great deal of experience without ever winning," the gentleman looked at his own cards before setting them down.

Mr. Belmont scowled at the insult and replied, "Pardon me? If you didn’t know, experience is not the same as desperation."

"Of course not," the gentleman agreed with him. "Though the two often dine at the same table."

Mr. Belmont softly scoffed. He tapped his winning cards and stated, "Keep your wit. I will keep the winnings. Deal again."

Soon the next round of cards was dealt, and when Mr. Belmont won again, he proudly gathered the gleaming pile of coins with obvious satisfaction. Glancing at the gentleman on his right, he said with a pleased smile,

"I do hope you are taking notes. This is what competence looks like when it is properly applied."

But the person sitting on the right did not answer. He only set his cards down with a stare at Harold.

Confidence swelled in Mr. Belmont’s chest as luck continued to favour him. Fortune, at last, had remembered his name.

But by the third round, his good fortune wavered. Cards that had earlier fallen neatly into his favour now betrayed him, and before long, half of his winnings had slipped back across the table.

"Ah! You had my card!" Mr. Belmont grumbled, tossing his cards down in frustration. It was alright, he convinced himself. The night was still young and he had already won twice. He could win again.

"I did mention I am good at this," Jay chuckled, turning a gold coin idly between his fingers. "I cannot allow you to take everything. Where would be the joy in that?"

Mr. Belmont gave a tight smile. When he looked to the right, he caught the gentleman merely gathering the cards and straightening them with quiet efficiency, as if the loss or gain of coins meant very little to him. He noticed the person looked well groomed despite the casual disorder of his dark hair.

Jay continued to speak, "Still, I find myself growing bored as I have been at it for hours. Perhaps it is time I retired for the night."

"So soon?" Mr. Belmont asked at once, unable to hide his dismay. One of his golden geese leaving already? "Surely another round will not hurt."

"It would only end the same way," Jay replied with a faint yawn.

"Then perhaps we should make it more interesting," the person on Mr. Belmont’s right suggested. He leaned back in his chair as if he had been waiting for this moment. "Raise the stakes."

The other two men seemed to consider it before nodding. Reaching into his coat, the person produced a heavy pouch and let it drop onto the table with a heavy thud.

"Two hundred gold coins."

[Music Recommendation: Rise - Johann Johannsson]

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify