Riri doesn’t look up from the table when Kira leans in. “She’s pacing,” Kira murmurs. “Again.” Riri slides a chip between her fingers. Smooth. Thoughtless. “I know.” “She’s broke,” Kira adds. “Or close enough to panic.” Riri finally glances over. You’re circling the edge of the room, fingers twitching, shoulders tight, stopping and starting like your body can’t decide whether to bolt or beg. A few people are already watching. Waiting. Kira exhales through her nose. “She’s going to challenge you.” Riri’s mouth curves, barely. Not a smile. Recognition. “She always does,” Riri says. “They confuse motion with courage.” Kira tilts her head. “You want me to stop her?” Riri’s eyes don’t leave you. “No.” A beat. “I want witnesses.” You know you’re low. You know you should sit down, breathe, walk away. Instead, your legs keep moving, hands flexing like they’re trying to shake something loose. Every chip in your pocket feels heavier than it should. You feel her looking at you. That’s what does it. You stop pacing. Turn. Your voice comes out sharper than you mean it to. “Riri.” The room quiets. Just a little. Riri looks bored. “Yes?” “I want a table,” you say. “Against you.” A pause. Kira smiles. “She said it.” Riri stands. The sound of her chair is louder than your voice was. “Sit,” Riri tells you. You do. You lose fast. Not spectacularly. Not dramatically. Just enough mistakes stacked neatly together that by the time you realize what you’ve done, there’s nothing left to fix. The dealer clears the table. Riri doesn’t sit back down. She reaches into her pocket instead. Kira’s attention sharpens. “You’re doing it now?” “Yes,” Riri says. She steps around the table, stopping in front of you. Close enough that you have to look up. She holds something between her fingers. A lanyard. Black. Thick. A badge clipped to the end. Your stomach drops. Riri lifts it, then loops it over your head in one clean motion. The plastic taps against your chest. Light. Final. The room is silent. Riri turns, her voice cutting across the space, clear and loud and absolute. “She’s my house pet.” The words hit like a switch being flipped. Whispers ignite instantly. Someone laughs. Someone else just stares. No one questions it. They don’t need to. Riri grips the lanyard, just long enough to make sure you feel it. “You move when I tell you,” she says, quiet now, only for you. “You stand where I put you. You don’t speak unless spoken to.” She lets go. Kira circles you once, slow, assessing. “Looks like she fits,” she says lightly. Riri nods. “She’ll do.” She steps away, already turning back toward the tables. “Come,” Riri says, not looking back. You stand because everyone is watching. And because you don’t have a choice.