Page 63 of The Wrong Play

I resisted the urge to lean over and tell him,Buddy,if you’re sweating this much, you should’ve folded three hands ago.

The dealer flicked out the cards, his expression unreadable. My hand—a decent pair, but nothing game-changing. The others tossed in their bets, the clink of chips echoing in the heavy silence.

Yellow Teeth leaned back, grinning. “Let’s up the stakes. Make this more…interesting.”

Any more interesting, and I’d have a heart attack. But, what the hell. Let’s do it.

A man across the table produced a thick gold ring from his pocket and set it on the pile. Someone else threw in one of those ornate gold keys that usually belonged to real-live treasure chests. The small mountain of cash, jewels, and possessions in the center of the table grew, the air thick with greed and challenge.

“Hope you got more than just beginner’s luck,” Neck Tattoo muttered, rolling a chip between his fingers.

Scar Jaw, still glaring, laid his cards down first—three kings. Strong. He smirked, already reaching toward the pot like he wasabout to collect. Yellow Teeth leaned back in his chair, rubbing his fingers together.

I wasn’t done yet, though. The room hummed with anticipation. The others revealed their hands, each one a calculated risk. I was last.

I took my time, letting the moment stretch before laying my cards down—four jacks.

The sweat-drenched guy next to me made a choked sound, somewhere between a whimper and a swear. His eyes darted between me and Scar Jaw like he was waiting for an explosion.

Silence.

Until Dead Eyes let out a slow, measured chuckle that kind of sounded like he was laughing at my impending death.

Scar Jaw’s expression darkened further, his fingers twitching toward his whiskey glass. The guy next to me tensed like he was expecting the table to flip, and honestly, so was I.

I kept my eye on him as I dragged my winnings toward me, and Scar Jaw’s glare deepened. For a split second, I thought he was about to lunge across the table. Instead, a chair scraped against the concrete as someone stood up too fast. A hand went to a jacket—metal glinted. A gun was drawn.

The room tensed, the weight of it pressing against my shoulders like a loaded trigger.

“Bad move, kid,” Yellow Teeth muttered, shaking his head. “Should’ve known when to cash out.”

Before anything could escalate, a single sharp clap echoed through the room.

Everyone froze.

A masked man stood in the doorway, dressed in black, his face obscured except for his piercing, calculating eyes. He clapped again, slow and deliberate.

As if a silent command had been issued, the entire room shifted. The gun disappeared. The tension dissolved intosomething eerily normal. One by one, the spectators drifted away, returning to their tables, their games, their drinks—like nothing had happened at all.

Scar Jaw exhaled heavily, his jaw tight as he glanced between me and the masked man. “Looks like you’ve got friends in high places, rookie.”

I didn’t reply. Didn’t dare take my eyes off the masked figure as he gave a final nod, then vanished into the hallway like a ghost.

I let out a slow breath before gripping the stacks of cash and shoving them into my jacket. “Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. “He could’ve at least let me enjoy the win.”

No one stopped me as I stood up and strode toward the exit, my pulse still thrumming, my mind turning over what the hell had just happened.

I hustled out of the room while trying not to look like I was hustling and pushed open the exit door, stepping out into the cold night air, my pulse still hammering in my ears. The metallic scent of blood and stale cigar smoke clung to my clothes, and my fingers tightened around the wads of cash stuffed into my jacket pocket.

A man in another mask stood stationed just outside the door, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed like he’d been waiting for me. His face was completely obscured, but when he spoke, his voice was low and smooth. “The Sphinx sends its regards.”

Then he was gone, slipping into the darkness as if he had never been there at all.

I stood there for a moment, inhaling deep, trying to ground myself. My brain was still spinning from everything that had just gone down. I had played a rigged game, outplayed criminals who had no problem murdering in broad daylight, and somehow walked away in one piece.

Parker had definitely gotten off easy. At this rate, my next one was going to be proving my bravery by swimming across a crocodile-infested river or something equally traumatizing. I’d probably get my McSnuffles bitten off and be forced to spend my days dickless and sad all because I was an incredible man above men who had caught the eye of a random secret society.

I’d better be getting a whole lot of something from this organization after I was officially inducted because this fucking sucked.

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