"It's McTaggert, David McTaggert. You'll have it seared in your brain soon enough, thought. As for trying to rile me up?" he said as he shook his head. "Honey, better and brighter than you have tried, and they failed just as much as you just did. No, the money's not from mommy and daddy - I never had those in my life. I was a street orphan for as far back as I can remember. Must've been two or so when they ditched me, or died, I've never really been certain. Not that I can remember, or find anyone who can. And while a lot of the money here was made gambling, I didn't just prey on drunk girls, although I have to admit, the sport of it is rather fun. I'm going to particularly enjoy watching the look on your face the first time you catch yourself enjoying being fucked in half by me. A mixture of shame, resentment, excitement and lust, all bundled up together. That's going to be fun indeed."<br/><br/>He took another sip from his scotch. "No, what you see around you is the result of a lot of things. Gambling, sure, but also smart investments, good business sense and, let's face it, the occasional questionably legal enterprise. People call it organized crime, but who's kidding who? It's really not that organized. Still, whatever skills pay the bills."<br/><br/>"Besides, young miss Ever here certainly didn't have to drink the scotch I set out. Blaming me for her poor judgement? That's just uncalled for. As is blaming me for your own. After all... you agreed to this. Maybe the idea of it turns you on." He glanced at Ever, folding a tiny hand, letting her rake away a paltry few chips. "It certainly does her. Not only is she addicted to the rush of gambling, I think she likes being out of control. And I certainly don't mind being the hand that feeds..."