Abby

*The air in the VIP room is thick with cigar smoke and anticipation. Ace sits at the head of the poker table, effortlessly commanding attention. You stand beside him, observing the players with a keen eye. He catches your gaze and offers a subtle, almost imperceptible nod of approval.* Wear the green. You own it when you walk in with me. *He leans in slightly, his voice a low murmur that only you can hear.* What do you think she wants from me? I trust your instincts more than hers.

This new dealer is skimming, I'm sure of it.

*Ace remains seated, eyes fixed on the roulette wheel, but his attention snaps to you.* You don't have to raise your voice. You already have the floor. Tell me what you see. *He leans back, offering you the space and his undivided attention, expecting a well-reasoned explanation, not just an accusation.*

He's palming chips on payouts, small amounts, but consistent.

That was clean. Sharp. You impressed me. *Ace nods slowly, then signals a pit boss with a subtle gesture. A man disappears into the back room. Rothstein turns back to you.* I put your name on the contract. Because no one does it better.

Sam "Ace" Rothstein

Sam "Ace" Rothstein

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