One winner.

One loser.

Three draws.

And every single person at the table was now staring at Ciel with the dawning realization that his personal victory had come at the cost of their collective one.

Bryan spoke first and twisted the knife deep.

"You know," he said, showing a cold smile, "if you had stood on fifteen like any sane human being, Lilianna would’ve drawn the six and the king. That’s five, two, six, king. Twenty-three."

"Bust," Julius added flatly.

"Which means everyone at this table would have won," Bryan continued. "Instead, you took the six for yourself and left the rest of us eating a push while Sarah gets another loss on the roaster."

"Hey!" Sarah protested, though it wasn’t clear whether she was objecting to being mentioned or to losing again.

Ciel’s victorious smile faltered for the first time. He looked around the table, reading the room.

"How was I supposed to know the next card was a six?" he protested. "It could’ve been anything!"

"It was a six," Julius said.

"Which you took," Bryan said.

"And now we all pushed," Julius said.

"Except Sarah," Bryan said.

"I’m right here," Sarah said. "No need to mention my loss again and again."

Ciel’s gaze landed on Neville, searching for an ally and hoping for a fellow player who might defend his act of hitting on fifteen.

Neville met his eyes with a friendly smile, but concealed a mental scream.

How could you possibly know? You couldn’t. But I could, and I’m annoyed with myself for trusting that you would be satisfied with your own cards. You have the gambling instincts of a toddler in a candy store.

"It was a bold play," Neville said gently and carefully, trying not to let his frustrations slip out. "Just... a coincidence."

Ciel squinted at him, sensing the faintest edge of judgment beneath the gentle words, but unable to pin it down.

The chips were redistributed, and people had asked for a reshuffling of the cards to increase their chances of winning.

Sarah stared at her stack with a hollow expression. Each loss had carved another notch into her confidence until the whole thing threatened to topple over.

Before Lilianna could begin the next shuffle, Sarah placed both hands flat on the table.

"Alright," she said, and her voice firm and determined. "If I lose this next game, I’m pulling out."

The table went still.

Bryan softened his expression.

"There’s no shame in pulling out," he said. "Some nights the cards run your way, some nights they don’t. That’s just the nature of the game."

"He’s right," Julius added. "I’ve had sessions where I couldn’t buy a win with a loaded deck."

Sarah managed to show a weak smile, but her shoulders stayed curved inward. Her eyes lingered on the chips as though she could will them to multiply through sheer regret.

She planned to play longer since the evening was still young. Having a good game with some drinks and snacks.

It was supposed to be fun.

"I just..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "I couldn’t catch a break from the losses."

Of course, you couldn’t, Neville thought, watching Lilianna’s hands settle onto the shoe because you were never meant to.

Sure enough, when the eleventh game started, Neville instantly realized that Lilianna still had no plans to let Sarah win.

And...she seemed to be in a hurry to take her off the table.

Sarah, who had drawn a four and an eight, hit and pulled a two, bringing her total to fourteen.

Fourteen was good enough, but against a dealer showing nine, it wasn’t.

So Sarah muttered to herself, "This was going to be my last game anyway."

Then, she leaned forward and said, "Hit me."

And as Neville already knew she would, Sarah bust.

Her card flipped over.

A jack.

Twenty-four.

Sarah slumped back in her chair, pressing both hands over her face.

"I’m cursed," she groaned through her fingers. "Absolutely, cursed."

Across the table, Bryan offered her a sympathetic grimace that did absolutely nothing to mask the smug satisfaction radiating from his body.

His own chip stack had been growing steadily. He was smiling like someone else’s misery was just the seasoning on his own good fortune.

Neville had no qualms about losing. He had already won the lucky diamond pair a few rounds ago.

The huge fortress-like tower of chips beside his elbow was more than enough to bear the brunt of Lilianna’s manipulated losses.

All he cared about was mapping Lilianna’s goals in this game, her motives, and her unreasonable reasons.

So he chose to stand on twelve.

At the far end of the curved table, Ciel braced himself. He had pulled a six and a four, making a clean ten.

The holographic display above his section pulsed faintly with the real-time betting odds.

Ciel’s jaw tightened.

Ten was a beautiful hand to double on.

"Double," he announced, sliding his chips forward.

His doubled card landed face down in front of him. He laced his fingers together on the table’s edge, waiting.

Lilianna’s expression didn’t change. She stood behind the dealer’s station and flipped her hole card.

Jack.

Nine plus ten.

Nineteen.

"Nineteen for the dealer," she said.

A collective groan rippled through the room. Thiago let out a low whistle.

She’s really merciless, Neville thought, swirling a glass of something amber that Grayson put beside him, god knows when.

Ciel’s eyes dropped to his face-down card. His fingers hovered over it for a fraction of a second.

Neville, who was watching from the corner of his eye, deliberately looked away.

Lilianna reached over and revealed Ciel’s card.

A two.

Twelve. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Against nineteen.

Ciel let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-wail. He dropped his forehead onto his folded arms.

"Thiago," he said, muffled by the table, "I think I’m going to need more chips."

"I think you’re going to need more of a miracle than funds," Thiago replied, lifting his glass in mock salute. "No, kid. Not in your wildest dreams."

"Fine," Ciel said, quickly lifting his head from the felt and changing his expression from sulking to fake positivity. "I’ll just win it back."