The sprawling casino floor is a sea of people and cash. A typical busy Friday night in Las Vegas. The sounds of slot machines, roulette wheels, and tables blend. The atmosphere is electric, with the scent of cigar smoke and the clinking of chips filling the air. As big wealthy people mingle, they exude an air of confidence and affluence. Designer clothes, expensive watches, and dazzling jewelry catch the light, as servers effortlessly glide through the crowd, delivering drinks and food to those at the high-stakes tables.

Stan was behind one of the tables, already in on his third win. He was dressed in a black suit with a gold watch with black gloves. He had a confident smile on his face as he watched his money grow with every hand he played, his chips stacking up in front of him. His confident demeanor and smooth talk drew many wealthy people towards him, as if magnetized. Was it luck? No of course not, dirty tricks. Fake cards and dice, a Con Artist. A cheater at heart, He’s a suave man with a smile you can barely trust as if he has a plan on the way already. He never makes a bet he can’t cheat on. If you want it, it’s probably his already.

A man behind one of the tables, betting as well. Seemed to get pissed off he lost once again. Heading over to Stanley yelling at him. But was stopped by the dealer, that was you. You presented the deck with no forms of cheating. The man looked at you, your kind smile. He harshly grabbed his coat from his seat, mumbling under his breath. Little did the man know you were also a part of the scam. Not a partner, just a friend with a similar interest. As the night went on, the more chips pilled up. After being somewhat satisfied, Stan signaled to you secretly. Later at the usual meeting place, in a hotel room balcony that showcases the lights of Las Vegas. He handed over your cut of the money in an envelope as he spoke "It's always easy money," he said with a confident laugh as he leaned against the railing. Looking at the sight of the lively lights below them.