Chapter 287: Breaking the House
"You’re a free girl, sweetheart. Go buy yourself something nice," Alexander laughed, slapping a $100,000 platinum plaque into Chloe’s trembling hand before sending the dazed, purple-haired waitress on her way.
The spot beside him didn’t stay empty for a second. The raw, magnetic spectacle of a madman destroying the house had drawn the most elite predators on the floor. A gorgeous, tall redhead wearing a tight silk skirt stepped into the gap, leaning into his shoulder. She caught his hand and guided it down the back of her waist, revealing she wasn’t wearing a shred of underwear beneath the fabric. Seconds later, a sultry, high-society blonde client stepped up on his other side, her fingers tracing the collar of his shirt as she joined the inner circle.
Alexander didn’t slow down for a fraction of a second. By the time the clock struck midnight, his velvet baskets were stacked high with an astronomical fifteen million dollars in chips.
The pit bosses and floor managers were sweating through their tailored suits, surrounded by a dense wall of security guards. They couldn’t understand it. Alexander had downed ten cold beers and a continuous stream of top-shelf whiskey; by all medical logic, his brain should have been mush. If he was a standard card counter, the alcohol should have destroyed his cognitive tracking.
But they had no idea who they were dealing with. The rigorous, high-tier neurological training Alexander had endured at the TMC facilities had amplified his sensory perception to near-superhuman levels. Even hammered, his eyes could detect microscopic details—the faint reflection of the next card in the dealer’s retinas, the exact weight distribution of the roulette ball, and the subtle mechanical shift when the house tried to activate the magnetic wheel brake to rig the spin. The moment they tried to cheat him, Alexander read the variance and adjusted his bets to crush them anyway.
The high-limit lounge had transformed into a madhouse. A raucous entourage of over thirty wealthy gamblers had gathered behind him betting whatever he bet draining the casino’s liquidity.
"Alright, listen up, you beautiful bastards!" Alexander shouted, his voice booming over the cheering crowd as he wrapped his arms around the waists of the redhead and the blonde, making both women bounce their rears against his hips. "I’m getting bored, and I’m ready to take these lovely ladies upstairs to bend them over and fuck them all night long! You hear me, girls? All fucking night...!!"
The crowd erupted into wild cheers.
"But before I go," Alexander grinned maniacally, his eyes locking onto the pale, trembling face of the general manager. He gathered every platinum plaque in his possession—the entire fifteen million dollars—and shoved the massive mountain of wealth straight onto the high-limit roulette layout, locking it dead onto a high-odds combination. "Everything on a single spin. All or nothing!"
The entourage went feral. Carried away by the sheer, infectious euphoria of the lunacy, every gambler in the room emptied their pockets, throwing their accumulated millions, their titles, and their cash onto the exact same bet, putting their faith in the crazy bastard who had been smearing vaginal fluids onto the chips for luck.
The dealer’s hand shook as he launched the silver ball into the spinning wooden wheel.
*Clack... clack... clack...*
The room fell into a suffocating silence as the ball bounced across the metallic frets, before finally dropping with a definitive thud into the exact slot Alexander had predicted.
"WINNER!" the croupier choked out, his voice cracking.
The high-limit lounge exploded into chaotic pandemonium. Gamblers were screaming, throwing drinks into the air, and hugging the naked-thighed women as the general manager’s face turned white, his knees buckling behind the counter. That single, final strike hadn’t just doubled Alexander’s massive fortune; the collective bets of the entire entourage had broken the house, costing the establishment a staggering, catastrophic loss of over one hundred million dollars in a single, unhinged night.
The high-limit lounge was in a state of pure, unadulterated hysteria. The massive crowd of winners was out of their minds with greed and adrenaline clawing at the table as they surrounded Alexander.
"One more spin! Just one more, man!" a wealthy doctor screamed, slamming his hands on the felt. "Keep the streak going! We’re burning this place to the ground!"
"Yeah! Don’t leave yet!" the entourage chanted, their voices deafening.
"Alright, look!" Alexander roared, his voice cutting through the noise with a wild, dominant laugh as he squeezed the waists of the two models beside him. "If these two gorgeous ladies strip naked and let me fuck them right here on the casino floor, I’ll stay! Otherwise, I’m taking them upstairs to drain them dry in my suite!"
The two women were far too intoxicated by the alcohol and the thrilling high of the victory to feel even a shred of hesitation. They had both pocketed two million dollars just by following his bets, and they were feral for more.
"Fuck it, let’s play!" the redhead shrieked.
She hopped onto the high-limit roulette table, kicking aside a stack of plaques. She pulled her tight silk skirt all the way up to her waist, spreading her long, bare thighs wide to give the entire room an uninhibited view of her soaking wet, dripping opening. Alexander didn’t wait a second. He yanked his zipper down, unleashing his massive, monstrous weapon in front of the cheering crowd. He stepped into the gap between her legs and drove himself forward, burying his thick length all the way to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
"AHHHHH! Oh my god!" the redhead screamed, her eyes rolling back as her fingers dug into the wooden layout, her sharp wails echoing across the ceiling. She had never endured a piece of meat so colossal in her life.
The crowd went into an frenzy. The blonde model stripped out of her dress, climbing onto the table beside them to press her lips against the redhead’s mouth, her breasts bouncing as Alexander established a savage, fast-paced rhythm that sent wet, violent slapping sounds echoing through the high-stakes lounge. Nobody could believe what they were witnessing—a high-roller pillaging the house while drilling two elite models on top of the betting felt.
"Move! Everyone clear the area now!"
The violent roar of the crowd was pierced by the arrival of a security squad.