Valentin had spent two nights memorizing the rhythm. Tonight, he had used it to win seven hands in a row. But Silas was clever. He had started varying his deal, trying to mask the pattern.
Crack.
“No,” Valentin whispered. “It’s the house’s. The real house. The game you’ve been playing isn’t for coin, Silas. It’s for what’s left of your soul.” faro scene crack
The sound was not the table. It was the case. A thin, sharp splintering, like ice breaking on a winter pond. The wooden case had split from age, revealing a hollow compartment behind the velvet lining. Valentin had spent two nights memorizing the rhythm
“The king keeps the board,” Silas said, sliding another stack of chips into the pot. “Your call, Val.” He had started varying his deal, trying to mask the pattern
In truth, he was listening.
Silas saw it. His face went white. “That’s not yours.”