The casino was a jungle of greed, all flashing lights and desperate bets. I’d been riding a high at the poker table, my chips stacked like a fortress, until Marcus showed up. His smirk, sharp as a blade, threw me off, and I f****d up—lost everything on a bad bluff.
Now, past midnight, the air was thick with cigar smoke and whiskey fumes. My pulse pounded, not just from the loss but from the way Marcus eyed me, like I was his next prize. I wasn’t here to lose, but I was out of chips and out of options.
He leaned across the table, his voice low, dripping with intent. “Backroom. Now. We settle this my way.” My stomach twisted, a mix of dread and heat, but I nodded, following him through the crowd.
The backroom was a dive, a step down from the casino’s glitz. A single poker table sat under
