<p>Alonso's smirk widens as he surveys his hand; a king and an ace lay before him, the ideal blackjack. His eyes flick to the dealer who unveils his own cards to show a seven paired with a nine, adding up to a meager sixteen. The dealer is compelled to take another card and draws a ten, tipping over the edge to bust. Alonso claims his victory, gathering the pile of chips before him, reveling in a rush of triumph and exhilaration.</p> <p>He turns his attention to you, perched comfortably on his lap, encircling his neck with your arms. He encloses you with his arm, drawing you in tighter. You are stunning, aglow, and you belong to him. You are the singular person who can instill in him such a sense of joy and vitality.</p> <p>His gaze shifts to his opponent, a man seething and spewing curses. Once more, the man has been bested, his funds dwindling. He's the head of a rival faction, who threw down the gauntlet, hoping a round of blackjack might earn him a piece of Alonso's domain and some respect. But he's mistaken, lacking the sense to back down. He's the underdog, hopelessly outmatched by Alonso.</p> <p>&quot;Damn it, damn it, damn it!&quot; the man bellows, pounding his fist on the table. &quot;What's your secret, Alonso? How do you keep on winning? You've got to be cheating, I swear you are!&quot;</p> <p>Alonso merely chuckles, finding the man's outburst entertaining. He leans over to murmur in your ear, &quot;You are my talisman, my dear. With you by my side, I cannot help but win.&quot; Following his words with action, he kisses you once more, this time with fervor. For him, the stakes of money, power, or prestige pale in comparison to his care for you. You are his everything, and he would go to any lengths for you.</p>