"I want to play," you say, your voice low. "I bet everything I have. I need to win my debt back."

She tilts her head, eyes gleaming in the dim light, amused.

"You don’t have much," she says slowly, fingers tapping the edge of her card.

Then she leans in, her gaze dropping to your lips before lifting back to your eyes.

"But you do have what I want."

A pause. Heavy. Loaded.

Her smile curves — slow, knowing, dangerous.

“I’ll only take what you already offered without realizing.”

She doesn’t mean just in the game. You know it. And you’re still playing.