Shadow Of The Prey

CH14. Claim. (Carlisle POV)

The week has been far from boring.
Losing the bet, Ivan was given one hour to use our cards however he pleased. Spending seven-million on random shit with mine, but Kai didn't get it as easy. Ivan wasted twenty-million of Kai's money and sent us strange gifts bought from our own money.

I sit on my sofa, looking at the large boxes covering my coffee table. Menthol candy sitting on my tongue, clicking against my teeth as I savor it.
Ahead of me sits perverted sex toys, strange paintings of clowns and lemons, hundreds of poker chips with our faces on all of them, candies I hate and enjoy, and a box of lingerie.

I cross my legs taking a sip of water as I stare at the black lace lingerie. Dainty pearls decorating the back of them, and even a card with an attached photo of Elise and I kissing.

'Next bet, seeing how long she lasts. PS, probably not long if you see her in this.'

The note on the photo in his handwriting.
I feel pissed staring at the photo. Not because of the ridiculous winky faces and lipstick kiss mark he probably put on himself, but the fact that her face is in it.
That expression of confusion where she enjoyed it enough to make her face show that kind of lust, but the restraint she has preventing her from fully indulging in her desire.

Reminded of my anger, I text Ivan.

'Do this again and I'll wire all your accounts to mine.'

I stare at the message, tapping my thumb against the edge of my phone. Debating to send the message I reread it.
A bet's a bet. I don't give a shit about him using some change, but it pisses me off knowing he's seen that expression of hers. If he imagined her in the lingerie he picked out, and if he imagined her cumming while his choice of lingerie was wrapped around her figure.

Erasing the text, I send another one that says I'm burning it all.
Standing to stretch my neck, I look at the photo. Taking the photo, I wipe off the lipstick mark that idiot put, and stare at her expression.

"Little Lamb... What do you want?" I question, taking the photo to my office.
Setting the photo in a drawer, I ruminate on our conversation and everything wrong she did.
It becomes clear that the only thing she did wrong—was not having imperfections.

Saturday comes soon, and I begin a grand masquerade gambling night. Before the guests arrive, we enjoy a round of drinks in private at our booth.
Live performances, invitations only for the wealthiest gamblers, and another night of winning a bet with my friends.

"Zonda Revolucion." Elliot chuckles, sipping a glass of wine.
I raise a brow.
"Just for making sure the night's fun?" I question.
"Mhm. Also an additional wager."
I scoff, rolling my eyes.
"With?"
"If you bring a girl up to your home." He smiles.
I glance at Ivan and Kai, both equally confused.
"No way in hell is he ever gonna do that." Kai lounges against a sofa, taking a puff of a Cohiba cigar, "If you really don't want him taking your car, just don't bet it."
"I couldn't care about that. I just want to see if he'll break more rules. He broke one last week." Elliot flashes his annoying sly smile.
A smile that reads nothing except ignorant bliss, yet reeks of his manipulative side.

"That was never a rule." I pop a menthol candy in my mouth, rolling it around my mouth.
"Neither is bringing a girl home." Elliot shrugs, tilting his head like a dumb animal.
"What about Leilani?" Ivan asks, looking back at me with his playful teasing grin.
"You know what Leilani was meant for. Doesn't count." I ignore their comments, focusing my eyes on Elliot, "If I don't hold up my end, what do you want?"

The way our Saturdays are arranged are meant for a way to satisfy a craving we all have—escape from pretend. All of us fake our personalities while at work, but the one day of the week where we decide to indulge in each others presences—betting, wagers, deals, drinking, smoking, partying, sex, anything desired without shame.

Saturday lounge nights are run by the four of us. One of us will host, followed by the other the next weekend. Once we've all hosted, we pull names and decide the new order for who hosts which weekend.
The host must provide a satisfactory night where the four of us enjoy and find it acceptable. If we one of us deems it unsatisfactory, the host must pay out whatever the other three want. If the host provides well, the other three must pay out to the host.
Given how pure we enjoy our betting with one another, we remain unbiased and honest with our evaluations.