Page 14 of Bozo

As I start to rake in the massive pile of chips, Baldy Guy slams his fist on the table. "You little shit!" he snarls. "You set me up!"

I meet his gaze coolly. "I played the hand I was dealt, same as you." I’m more than used to assholes getting rowdy because they lost. Don’t put it on me because you couldn’t fold when you should have. You should never bet money you’re not able to lose.

Slick Hair puts a hand on Baldy Guy’s shoulder. "Easy, Tom. The kid played fair and square."

Tom shrugs off the hand, his face red with anger and humiliation. "Bullshit! No one's that lucky!"

I start packing up my winnings, keeping one eye on Tom. "It's not about luck," I say, zipping up the duffle bag now heavy with cash. "It's about knowing when to fold." I’m being antagonizing on purpose. The man’s been a fucking prick since the moment I sat down.

Tom lunges across the table, his hand reaching for my collar. But before he can grab me, two burly security guards materialize, restraining him.

"That's enough." The new voice cuts through the commotion. The room falls silent as a tall, imposing man steps out of the shadows. I recognize him instantly—Lorcan Black, the man behind Na Cártaí Dubha.

Black's cold eyes sweep over the scene, lingering on Tom, who's still being restrained by the guards. "You know the rules, gentlemen. No fighting, no accusations. What happens at the table stays at the table."

He turns to me, his gaze appraising. "Impressive play, young man. Your father said you were good, but I didn't expect this."

I nod respectfully but say nothing. The less said to a man like Black, the better.

"Tom," Black continues, his voice deceptively soft, "I suggest you leave now. Your debt will be settled by the end of the week, or we'll have a problem. Understood?"

Tom's face pales, the fight draining out of him. He nods jerkily, and the guards release him. He stumbles out without another word, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Black turns back to me. "Connor, isn't it? A word, if you please."

It's not a request. I follow him to a quiet corner of the room, my grip tightening on the duffle bag.

"Your old man's in deep," Black says without preamble. "Deeper than you know. This win tonight? It's barely scratched the surface of what he owes."

I feel my stomach drop. Of course. Of fucking course. "How much?" I ask, my voice tight.

Black's eyes are cold, calculating. "Let's just say, even if you emptied that bag right now, it wouldn't cover half of it."

I clench my jaw, fury bubbling up inside me. That bastard. That lying, gambling bastard. "I'm not responsible for my father's debts," I say, fighting to keep my voice steady.

Black's eyes narrow, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice when he says, "No, you're not. But you are responsible for your own choices. And right now, you have a choice to make."

I tense, ready for whatever threat is coming. But Black surprises me.

He leans in closer, his voice low. "You've got talent, kid. Real talent. The kind that could make a man very rich or very dead, depending on how he uses it."

I don't like where this is going. "What are you suggesting?"

"Work for me," Black says bluntly. "Use that brain of yours to help run my games. In return, I'll wipe your father's debt clean. You'll be free of him, and your mother will get the care she needs."

I blink, caught off guard. "How do you know my mam?”

He smirks. “I know everything about every single person who comes to my tables, Connor.”

I clench my teeth. Off course he does. I should have realized. “What kind of job?"

"Nothing illegal, if that's what you're worried about," Black says with a wry smile. "I run high-stake games all over Europe. I need someone who can play, who can spot cheaters, who understands the numbers. Someone like you."

My mind races. It's a way out, a chance to pay off Dad's debts and maybe even save enough for Mam's treatments. But it's dangerous. Getting involved with men like Black rarely ends well.

"I need time to think," I say carefully.

Black nods. "You have forty-eight hours. After that, your father's debt becomes due in full." He hands me a business card. "Call this number when you've decided."

---