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... p> Oberen’s trembling fingers hovered over the card he had just plucked from my hand and slammed onto the table, not daring to flip it just yet, as if even touching it might snap the last thread of his sanity.

I watched him, still and patient, with Jazmin resting in my lap like a decadent afterthought.

Around us, the den watched with dead eyes—spectators too broken to gamble, too haunted to leave. They’d seen men lose everything here. They’d never seen a man like me.

Ober ...

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