Quentin was calm as he frittered away little bits of money. Not enough to matter... Just enough to make the old man feel lucky, and to give them plenty of time to drink. His plan was bold in its simplicity, and Quentin intended to give himself as much chance as possible. They talked too, about the city and business, though there was always a tight guard from the other... And often there were thinly veiled digs at the other.<br/><br/>But that evening wasn't about schmoozing Zoey's father. There was no gain in that. It was about biding his time, feeding him money and drink and cards until, finally, he would become too bold. It was about stripping everything from this man; taking all his money, fucking his daughter, and throwing him out. Already the drink was making Quentin quite interested in his slave, and he wondered why he'd let her dress so reservedly... He would fix it, soon. He just needed his go-signal.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>