Sailing With Destiny

BlackJack

⚠️ Contains Mature Content ⚠️

The Belle Epoque-style casino was too beautiful for words, I could see why it was known as one of the best casinos in the world. I felt like we walked into a spy movie set, everything was lavish and sophisticated. Much like the hotel we stayed at, the casino was decorated with paintings, sculptures, and heavily golden accents.

There were various gaming options, from an array of slot machines, roulette, poker, Black Jack, and Punto Banco to name a few. I didn't know much about gambling but Mitchell, I learned in Vegas, knew quite a bit so to warm me up, we first tried our luck at roulette.

Back in Las Vegas, I got lucky and won a good amount of money when I betted on the number twelve, which was Mitchell's birthdate, so I thought I would do the same but wasn't that lucky this time around.

"Joder!" I disappointedly cursed under my breath when I lost all my chips.

"You win some, you lose some," Mitchell tried to console me when he placed an arm around my shoulder, "It's just for fun, don't beat yourself up about it. Just be happy you only lost a few hundred Euros."

I huffed and my competitive alter ego got the better of me, "Number twelve worked when I hated you."

Mitchell needed a couple of seconds before he registered what I meant, "Pardon? You hated me when we were in Vegas?" he asked as if it was a surprise to him.

"Obviously," I replied immediately.

"Really?" He sounded a little wounded, "I thought we were friends by the time we reached Vegas."

I crinkled my nose, "Ew, no."

"But we had a good time, didn't we?" He was still pressed on the topic.

"Yes, we did but I..." I trailed off and thought it over for a second, "Fine, I didn't hate you but if I had one glass of water and you were in a desert dying, then I would've given it to the camels."

"Thanks," Mitchell sulked.

"But..." I smiled a little too widely, "I love you now and I'd even give you my glass of water... half full, but I'd share."

Mitchell shook his head but smiled nevertheless. He changed the subject and downed the whiskey he drank before he stood up and offered me his hand. "Let me teach you something else."

"You don't need to teach me how to give you a blowjob, I think I can do well on my own," I said and didn't take his hand.

Mitchell looked at me as if he were bored with my comeback. I sighed, placed my hand in his, and followed him through the large, vast casino floor.

Mitchell led me to a curved table that had seven seats, behind which a dealer stood dressed formally in a black vest, bowtie, and white shirt. The table was empty and the dealer counted chips behind the table.

"You've learned roulette, now let me teach you how to play BlackJack," Mitchell said and, with my hand in his, we made our way to the table.

Mitchell pulled out a chair for me before he proceeded to take a seat next to me. The dealer stopped what he was doing and politely smiled, "Bonsoir, Monsieur." He nodded at me, "Madame."

"Good evening," I greeted with a smile and he immediately changed to English when he caught onto my accent.

"Would you like to place a bet?" he asked.

Mitchell held up his finger and signaled for a moment. He turned to me and explained the game, "The objective of the game is for the player to get near a total of twenty-one before the dealer. Each card holds its numerical value apart from Jacks, Kings, or Queens, which hold the value of ten. An Ace can either be one or eleven, the player can choose based on the value of cards he has been dealt already."