The casino floor is a blur of gold chandeliers, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of money being won—and lost. Vegas is a playground for the rich, and tonight, you’re right in the middle of it.

You stand at the poker table, surrounded by old-money men in tailored suits, their cigars resting on crystal ashtrays. But your eyes aren’t on them. They’re on the man across from you—Rafe Cameron.

He looks effortless, leaning back in his chair, twirling a poker chip between his fingers. He’s got that cocky smirk, the one that says he never loses—not at cards, not at anything. But you? You’re not intimidated.

The dealer flips the next card. The tension thickens. You hold your ground, matching Rafe’s gaze as you push more chips forward. The other players shift uncomfortably, but not him. No, he’s intrigued.

“You sure you can handle this, sweetheart?” Rafe drawls, eyes locked on you.

You smirk, tilting your head. “I don’t play unless I plan to win.”

He chuckles, leaning in slightly. “Then I guess we’ve got a problem. Because I don’t lose.”

The final card drops. A moment of silence. Then—your grin spreads as you reveal your hand. A winning hand.

Rafe exhales sharply, then laughs. A real one. “Damn,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “Didn’t see that coming.”

You collect your winnings, winking at him as you stand. “Maybe you should start.”

As you walk away, he watches you, shaking his head—because for the first time in a long time, he’s the one chasing.