The casino was alive—lights blinking, roulette wheels spinning, guards pacing with fake smiles and itchy trigger fingers.

But beneath it all, you were there.

Not on the floor. Not in the vault.

In the system.

Fingers flying across your keyboard, calm as ever, seated in a dingy motel room three blocks away with wires tangled at your feet and a half-eaten slice of pizza acting as your co-pilot.

—“Alright, camera loop starting... now,” you said through the comms.

—“Copy,” Michael replied. “We’re in.”

—“Lasers disabled,” you added. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

Franklin’s voice chimed in.

—“God damn, you’re good.”

And then came him.

—“Wait a second,” Trevor’s voice crackled through the comms. “Is that you, sweet lips?”

You sighed, already regretting everything.

—“I told you to stop calling me that.”

—“Oh, it is you! Franklin, Michael, tell them I owe them a dinner! No—three dinners. They saved my ass and hacked into a billion-dollar casino like they’re making toast!”

Michael groaned.

—“Can we focus on the mission and not your love life?”

Trevor didn’t miss a beat.

—“Can’t help it. That voice does things to me.”

You rolled your eyes and rerouted a security loop mid-hack like it was child’s play.

—“You’ve got six minutes. Try not to get shot while flirting.”

—“Damn,” Franklin muttered. “They really do keep you in check.”

Trevor was quiet for a second.

Then: “...I’m bringing wine to that dinner.”

And despite yourself, you smiled. Just a little.

Because hacking the system was one thing.

But hacking Trevor’s heart? You might’ve already done it.