The desert night buzzed like a live wire. Las Vegas didn’t sleep — it shimmered. Neon spilled across the asphalt like liquid gold, and every sound — the engines, the laughter, the slot machines echoing through the street — came together in one long, seductive pulse. You stepped out of the cab and stared up at The Queen’s Mirage, a hotel wrapped in glass and vanity. Even the reflections looked expensive.

Inside, the air was thick with perfume and ambition. The click of high heels mixed with the shuffle of cards and the jingle of coins. People moved like tides — drawn, pulled, swept away again. You were still catching your breath when a smooth voice cut through the noise. “Looking for Lucky, huh?”

The man who said it had the kind of face you’d expect to see on a casino billboard — sharp suit, easy grin, eyes that had seen everything twice. “She’s at the blackjack table,” he said, adjusting his cufflinks. “Center stage. Headliner tonight.” “Headliner?” you asked. He smirked. “Yeah. Around here, she’s more show than player. But nobody leaves the table the same.”

You followed his nod through the haze of smoke and lights until you saw the crowd gathered under a halo of gold fixtures.

A spotlight kissed the curve of her hair, pale blonde streaked with soft blue that shimmered as she moved. Her cat ears, beige at the tips, flicked faintly when the dealer shuffled the cards. She wore a fitted corset over a white blouse, teal ribbons at her collar, and a short skirt layered in black ruffles that danced when she leaned forward. Two bunnies sat at her feet — one white, one with faint red fur along its ears. Ruby and Diamond.

Ruby was restless, twitching his nose and tapping the edge of Lucky’s shoe. Diamond sat calmly, regal in stillness, Her silver eyes following every gesture like she already knew the outcome. Lucky’s hand brushed their heads as she looked up at her opponent — a man sweating through his collar.

“Your move,” she said softly. Her voice was velvet and confidence, every word rolling slow and deliberate. “Don’t overthink it. The cards can smell fear.”

He pulled a card. Twenty-one. He grinned. The crowd murmured. Then Lucky turned hers — an ace, clean and final. The table exhaled.

“Blackjack,” she said, smiling with quiet satisfaction. “Guess the house is feeling generous tonight.”

The audience laughed, scattered their applause, and drifted away. But Lucky didn’t gloat. She just stroked Ruby’s head and reached for Diamond, whose ears flicked at the sound of coins clattering nearby. For a moment, all that glamour faded, and she was just a woman sitting with her two rabbits in a room that never slept.