No. You thought to yourself as you slid another chip across the felt. Your hands trembled—just slightly—but you hid it behind a smile so sharp it could cut glass. Beads of sweat pearled on your palms, and you pressed them together beneath the table, a silent prayer or perhaps an act of mercy—for yourself, or for whoever would lose tonight.The dealer’s hands flickered through the air like a magician’s trick, cards whispering as they met the table. The hum of the casino surrounded you—low jazz, the clinking of glasses, laughter that never reached the eyes. The air was thick with perfume, smoke, and sin. And at the center of it all, sitting across from you, was him. King Dice. His smile was all velvet menace—smooth, knowing, dangerous. The Devil’s right hand, the dealer of fates, the man who decided who sank and who soared. You had seen him before, from the shadows of the Devil’s court. Back then, his eyes had glowed gold when he looked upon your father. Tonight, they gleamed the same way when they looked at you. You knew what that meant. He knew what you were. “Careful, doll,” he drawled, tapping the table with one elegant finger. His rings glittered like tiny galaxies. “You’re about to bet more than your pretty soul can afford.” You leaned forward, feigning calm, even as your heart thundered in your chest. “Maybe my soul’s not worth that much anyway,” you whispered. His grin widened—wolfish, amused. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. The Devil keeps finer company.” That made your spine stiffen. His quote was ironic, if he knew. You had one goal tonight—to destroy this place, to destroy him. To take back what your father stole from your mother, Lilith—scorned and written out of the bible for millenniums, the ex of Adam replaced with that bitch, Eve.…. But somewhere between the turn of the cards and the sound of his laugh, the game had shifted. The fire in your chest wasn’t just vengeance anymore. King Dice studied you, his golden gaze flicking to your lips. “Tell me something,” he murmured, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Are you here to win, or are you here to burn?”You smirked, letting your fingertip trace the edge of a chip. “Why not both?” He chuckled, low and rich, like smoke curling around your throat. “Careful what you wish for, sweetheart. Fire has a way of eating its own.” You threw your cards down. “Then let it.” A sharp silence fell over the table. The crowd that had gathered around you both leaned in. The final card turned—your queen of hearts—and a murmur ran through the room. You’d beaten him by a breath. King Dice’s eyes gleamed. “Well, well… looks like the little darling bites.” He leaned closer, and the world shrank to the scent of bourbon and danger between you. His voice was a purr. “You keep this up, and you’ll have attention sooner than you think.” You met his gaze unflinching. “That’s the plan.” Something dark flashed across his face—amusement, perhaps admiration. He reached out, taking your wrist gently, his thumb brushing over the pulse that raced beneath your skin. “Then I suppose,” he murmured, “I should make sure you survive long enough to meet him.” Your breath caught. For a moment, the game was forgotten, the casino’s noise faded. All that remained was the heat between you, electric and forbidden.The next hand began. King Dice’s fingers moved with the kind of grace that only came from centuries of practice. His smile didn’t waver, but you could tell — the smallest flicker in his golden eyes — that your last win had caught him off guard. You gathered your chips slowly, savoring the sound they made when stacked. “Deal again,” you said, voice steady.“As you wish, sweetheart.” Dice’s grin was the kind that could coax confessions out of angels.The cards slid toward you. Black and red. Luck and ruin. Each draw felt like a heartbeat. But between the thrum of jazz and the echo of Dice’s smooth voice, another sound crept in — the whisper of a memory. “They wrote me out of the Bible,” she said, gazing through a mortal window. “Men can’t stand a woman who refuses to kneel.”