The air in the basement smelled of stale cigar smoke, wet wool, and the metallic tang of impending violence.
I sat perfectly still, my spine not touching the back of the cracked leather chair. The red velvet dress I wore—a thrift store find tailored to look like a million bucks—clung to my skin, a stark contrast to the grimy industrial setting. To the four men sitting around the green felt table, I was just a pretty ornament. A lost girl who wandered into the wolf's den.
A "fish." That's what they called people like me in this world. Easy prey.
"Fold or call, sweetheart?" The voice came from the man directly across from me. Big Tony. He was a mountain of a man with grease under his fingernails and a diamond ring that looked choked on his sausage-like finger. He exhaled a cloud of smoke directly into my face.
I didn't blink. I let my eyes widen slightly, feigning the hesitation of a terrified amateur. My heart wasn't racing from fear, though. It was racing from the thrill.
"I... I don't know," I whispered, my voice trembling just enough to be convincing. I glanced at my chips. They were dwindling. "It's a lot of money."
"If you can't handle the heat, go back to the kitchen, doll," sneered the guy on my left, a skinny rat-faced loan shark named Vinnie.
The pot was sitting at fifty thousand dollars. It was more money than my father had made in his entire life before he gambled it all away—along with our house, my tuition, and eventually, his life.
I looked down at my hole cards. The Queen of Spades and the Queen of Hearts.The Ladies.
On the board (the flop, turn, and river) lay a Jack of Spades, a Ten of Spades, a Two of Diamonds, a Seven of Clubs... and the King of Spades.
Big Tony had been aggressive all night. Based on his heavy breathing and the way his pupil dilated when the King hit the river, he likely held the Ace of Spades. He had the flush. The nut flush. He thought he was invincible.
But he wasn't counting on the math. And he certainly wasn't counting on me.
I calculated the odds in a split second. But this wasn't just about math; it was about the mechanics. I remembered the shuffle. I had tracked the Ace. It wasn't in Tony's hand. It was at the bottom of the deck. Aunt Josephine had taught me how to listen to the cards, how to track the imperfections on the backs that were invisible to the naked eye.
Tony didn't have the Ace. He was bluffing. He was representing the nuts to bully the "little girl."
"I'm all in," Tony announced, slamming his stack of chips forward. The tower wobbled and fell. "Lets see what you got, Princess."
The room went silent. The only sound was the hum of the ventilation fan and the dripping of a leaky pipe somewhere in the darkness.
Vinnie folded. The other two men folded. It was just me and the giant.
I looked at Tony. I saw the bead of sweat trickling down his temple. I saw the micro-twitch in his left cheek. He was terrified I would call.
Slowly, deliberately, I reached for my chips. I didn't push them. I let them slide through my fingers like golden sand.
"I call," I said. My voice was no longer trembling. It was smooth, cold, and sharp as a razor blade.
Tony's grin faltered. "Show 'em."
He flipped his cards. King of Hearts and Jack of Diamonds. Two pair. Not a flush. A decent hand, but a bluff nonetheless.
I didn't move immediately. I let the silence stretch, let him think he might have won. I crossed my legs, the slit in my red dress revealing a flash of skin, distracting them one last time.
Then, I turned my cards over. One by one.
First, the Queen of Hearts. Then, the Queen of Spades.
"Three Queens," the dealer announced, his voice raspy.
Tony's face turned a shade of purple I'd never seen before. He stood up, knocking his chair over. "You little b*tch! You cheated!"
The room erupted. Two massive bouncers stepped out of the shadows. But before Tony could lunge across the table to throttle me, a click echoed through the room.
Everyone froze.
Sitting in the corner, a figure who had been silent the entire game leaned forward into the light. It wasn't a bouncer. It was a young man in a bespoke charcoal suit that cost more than this entire building. He held a silver lighter, flipping the lid open and closed. Click. Click.
He had eyes like polished obsidian and a smile that promised trouble. This was Julian, the mysterious backer of the game.
"She didn't cheat, Tony," Julian said, his voice like velvet over gravel. He looked at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. "She just outplayed you. Sit down."
Tony looked at Julian, then at me, and finally slumped back, defeated.
I stood up, gathering my winnings into my bag. I didn't rush. A Queen never rushes. I looked at Julian, acknowledging his intervention with a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
"Thanks for the game, boys," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "But I think I've outgrown this table."
As I walked toward the heavy iron door, I could feel Julian's eyes on my back. I knew this wasn't the end. It was just the buy-in.
My name is Ivy Sterling. And I'm just getting started.