I feel like I’m prying open the toothy maw of some ancient dragon to peer into his stomach.

I feel like I’m being interrogated by the most murderous man in the world.

I am not so egotistical and stubborn as to pretend I’m not afraid. I’m definitely afraid. In fact, I’m just about scared out of my damn mind right now. I am standing in the very belly of the beast, trapped in this tiny, buzzing room filled with camera monitors and endless keyboards and buttons.

It rather looks like a scene from some cheesy 90s flick about the Y2K scare. I know the people who work down here in this darkened, dusty, claustrophobic room must know my face by now. They are the ones who watch the screens, who stalk every winner and loser upstairs in the bustling rooms of the casino. They regard us shrewdly from below, judging and taking notes, deciding how strong or weak we are, how much of a threat we pose to the way of the world here in this microcosm.

Everything is shoved in together, the rights and wrongs and cosmic karma and great odysseys for money and pride, balled up into a tight fist. The casino is a clenched hand, a pressure cooker in which people at the ends of their old money ropes or on their first big new money spending spree. Everything is intensified by a thousand here. Everyone is under scrutiny, all the time, whether the eyes that watch us are visible to us or not.

Down here lives the oculus. This is where they watch us.

I’m standing under the grim, flickering light of a single bulb dangling from the ceiling. It’s a stark contrast to the wealth and luxury of the upper floors. Who knew that underneath the pomp and opulence of the casino floor there lay a dungeon-like chamber of pale, weary watchers?

Right now, though, all the people who usually work down here have been rushed out. I don’t know where they went, but when the door closes solidly behind me, I realize with a twinge of fear that I am all alone with Jerry Laskin. That is by design, of course. He wants me alone. He wants me vulnerable, off my game. He’s going to try and intimidate me into giving him whatever it is he thinks he wants from me. An apology? Probably not. He’s clearly not the kind of man who needs to hear “I’m sorry.” A confession? Most likely. Jerry will want to trick me into admitting exactly how I’ve been winning all these games.

But that’s not all he will want from me. I am no fool. He wants more than my admission of guilt, of how I’ve been using the power of psychology and counting cards to walk away with his money. He will want to punish me. I don’t know what sort of penal system he has etched out in his dark mind but I know it’s got to be something terrible. He doesn’t strike me as an especially forgiving man. And winning his money is possibly the greatest and most egregious sin I could possibly commit against him.

Men like Laskin—like Carl Owens—live for the money. He lives to see those dollar signs rolling in. It’s his obsession, his lifeblood. It’s what keeps him moving forward, his sole motivation outside of spite. Those are dangerous fixations, but he has clearly learned how to avoid taking the punishments for himself. He’s got an unending parade of lackeys and fallback guys to take the hit. He outsources his pain, his losses.

The winner takes all, and he always wins. But not this time. Not with me in the building. No matter how corrupt he is, no matter the kinds of criminal maneuvers he uses to get ahead, he can never compete with my ability to smash the competition.

I’m an enigma to him, and I can see a shining glint of curiosity in his beady black eyes as he looks at me. But I am first and foremost a threat, and that fact takes precedence over all else.

“I believe a congratulations may be in order here, yes?” he says finally, his voice every bit as gruff and gravelly as his appearance.

I force a coquettish giggle and bite my lip. I feel my cheeks start to flush slightly rosy pink. Perfect. Just as planned. This is my angle.

“Luck must be my lady tonight,” I remark with a playful shrug. “I just can’t believe it.”

“Hmm,” Laskin grunts, nodding very slowly. “I can’t believe it either.”

“Pardon me, but you said something about a VIP suite, and this doesn’t exactly look like any kind of suite at all,” I point out. I bat my eyelashes subtly and grace him with a smile.

“You’re right. This is not the suite I promised. This is, ah, a pit stop on the way, if you will. I hope that doesn’t bother you,” he says quietly, that false smile still plastered uncomfortably on his ugly mug.

“Oh, of course not,” I tell him with a wave of my hand. “No problem.”

“I just have some... questions. For the big winner,” he notes, his smile looking more and more sharklike as it remains frozen on his face.

“Ah. Well, in that case, ask away,” I reply cheerily. It’s important that I don’t show fear.

“I’m looking to expand, you know. Broaden my, ah, portfolio, if you will. Is that something you can relate to?” he asks rather cryptically.

I frown. “I’m sorry. I don’t follow,” I lie.

Jerry licks his lips, staring me up and down for a moment. He steps closer, and I can feel his rancid breath on my body. I don’t move. I hold my ground. It’s all I have. He could so easily break me in half…

Just then, the door swings open with a bang and we both look over at the doorway in shock. My heart skips a beat when my eyes meet his—it’s Dominick! Somehow he’s managed to find me. I stare at him with wide eyes, wondering what the hell he’s got planned. Laskin is every bit as confused and startled, and I can see an angry twitch working in his jaw.

“You’re interrupting something very important here, Dominick,” Laskin snarls.

“My apologies, sir. But there’s been a security breach I needed to inform you of. It’s serious. All hands on deck. Thought you might like to be made aware of the situation,” Dom rattles off matter-of-factly. Laskin tenses up, looking back and forth between Dom and me. I can tell he’s reluctant to leave me now.

Finally, though, he groans and snaps his fingers to beckon Dom into the room. “Take my place. Watch over our esteemed VIP winner for me while I go take care of business,” he ordered Dominick. “I won’t be gone long. Oh, and remember to treat our guest here with... respect.”

He winks at Dominick and then slips out of the room. Dom immediately shuts the door and rushes over to me, grabbing both of my hands tightly in his. There’s a bright fire flashing in his gorgeous eyes.

“How did you find me?” I ask in a hushed tone.

He shakes his head. “Never mind that. It’s not important. Right now, I need you to listen to what I have to say. Okay? Can you do that for me?” he asks fervently.

I frown at him, a little offended. “Yes, Dom. I know how to listen. I’m not a child.”

“Good. Then prove it. I have a lot to say. First of all, you know my boss Jerry Laskin, that man who brought you down here,” he began.

“Yes. We’ve met. He’s... enchanting,” I say acidically.

Dom gives me a warning glance and I sigh, pretending to zip my lips closed.

“Hadley, he’s been watching you. This is bigger than just some debt collection. Especially after the way you swept the competition tonight. You’re a prime target. This is why they haven’t taken you yet. Because of your ability to play. Carl didn’t offer you up just to... clear his debts. Or at least, not the way you thought. He wants you to play for him, and he’s not going to take no for an answer,” Dominick says grimly.

“Dom, I figured that much out on my own. Why do you think I came back here?”

“Hadley, no. This is bigger than either of us realized. He wants you to help him with this massive hostile takeover plot, and I can tell you from personal experience that he will use whatever methods possible to get you there. Not one of those methods is gentle,” he explains, glancing toward the door.

“We don’t have much time, do we?” I ask, knowing the security breach was a lie. He nods.

“Exactly,” he says. “We need to move quickly. I don’t know what he wants, but—”

“A massive hostile takeover that he needs a solid winner for? Dom, he’s going to be trying to take on the other casinos. Jerry Laskin wants to weaponize us. He wants to use us to take down the casinos one by one, lower their defenses, make them vulnerable. But why?”

“So that he can swoop in and take them for his own, at a very discounted price,” Dom says darkly.

“Like some fucked-up game of Monopoly,” I sigh. “Shit. What an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, the mafia is made up almost entirely of assholes, you’ll find,” he replies.

“Except you,” I clarify, looking at him sidelong. He smiles softly.

“Don’t count me out just yet. I may not be as downright evil as some of my colleagues but I think the title of ‘asshole’ still suits me pretty damn well. But either way, we’re both going to be assholes if Laskin pulls this off. You’ll be tied to the mafia, too. You’ve dealt in high-risk and danger before, but this… this would be an entirely different animal, Hadley,” he warns.

“We have to do something,” I murmur to myself. Then I suddenly look up at him with round, bright eyes. “This is going to be risky, but... Dom, I have an idea, and you’re not going to like it.”

Just as she’s about to tell me, the elevator beeps outside our room, and the door slams open.