The mahogany table felt cold under Ethan's palms. Across from him, Sophia leaned back, the emerald fabric of her dress catching the dim light of the chandelier like a serpent's scales. She toyed with the gold-edged deck, the cards making a rhythmic click-clack sound that echoed in the silent house.
"Tell me, handsome," Sophia started, her voice purring with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "Have you ever actually sat at a table like this? Or is your soul still as clean as your skin?"
Ethan met her gaze, his mind racing through the logic gates the System had installed. "I've played games, Sophia. But usually, the only thing I lose is time. I've never gambled with anything real."
Sophia let out a soft, melodic laugh that seemed to vibrate in the air between them. "Oh, Isabella... you've brought me a saint," she teased, glancing at her sister. "A man who hasn't stepped onto the path of sin yet. How refreshing. I almost feel bad for what I'm about to do to you."
Isabella sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against a nearby bookshelf. "Just teach him, Sophia. We don't have all night."
"Fine, fine," Sophia said, her expression turning slightly more focused, though the playful glint remained. She cleared a space on the table. "We'll start with the basics. The gentleman's game of choice for those who think they can count faster than the house: Blackjack."
She slid two cards toward Ethan and two toward herself, one of hers facing up—an Ace of Spades.
"Listen closely, Ethan," she began, her tone shifting to that of a dangerous tutor. "The goal is simple: get closer to twenty-one than I do, without going over. If you go over, you 'bust' and lose. Every card from two to ten is worth its face value. The face cards—Jacks, Queens, Kings—are all worth ten. And the Ace? She's the queen of the deck. She can be a one or an eleven, depending on what your heart desires."
Ethan looked at his cards. A seven of hearts and a four of diamonds. Eleven.
"You start with two cards," Sophia continued. "You can 'Hit'—take another card—or 'Stand'—keep what you have. Since you have an eleven, the math says you hit. Most of the deck is worth ten, so you're hunting for a face card to hit that magic twenty-one."
Isabella stepped forward, taking the role of the dealer to keep the game neutral. She dealt Ethan a third card. A King of Clubs.
"Twenty-one," Ethan muttered, a strange spark of excitement lighting up his grey eyes.
"Not bad for a beginner," Sophia winked, revealing her hidden card—a six. "I have seventeen. You win this round. See? It's just addition and subtraction, Ethan. But in the Lounge, the math starts to feel like a mountain when your own blood is on the table."
They played a few more practice rounds. Ethan felt his Intelligence stat working overtime, tracking the cards that had already left the deck, calculating the decreasing probability of a high card appearing. He wasn't just playing; he was analyzing the flow of the game.
After the third practice round, Sophia's demeanor changed. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes darkening with a mischievous, predatory hunger.
"The practice is over, Ethan. My blood doesn't pump for free," she whispered. "Let's put something on the line. No money—you're a poor boy, and I'm a bored woman. Let's play for... layers. If I win this hand, you give me that hoodie you're so fond of hiding in. If you win, you can have mine."
She gestured to her own emerald dress, a daring challenge that made the air in the room turn heavy and electric.
Ethan felt his throat go dry. The erotica of the moment wasn't subtle; it was a physical weight. But before he could even process the stake, a sharp smack echoed through the room.
Isabella had stepped forward and swatted the back of Sophia's head with a rolled-up magazine. "Abla! Stop it! You're being an idiot," Isabella hissed, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "He's here for a job, not to fulfill your twisted fantasies."
Sophia pouted, rubbing the back of her head with a wounded, yet incredibly cute expression. "I was just trying to make it interesting, Bella! You have no sense of drama." She looked back at Ethan and gave a resigned shrug. "Fine, fine. The saint stays clothed... for now."
Isabella grabbed Ethan's arm, her grip firm. "We're leaving. You've learned the basics. That's enough for tonight."
As they moved toward the door, Sophia stood up, her grace returning. "Wait!" she called out. She walked over to Ethan, stopping just inches from him. She was taller than Maya, her presence more overwhelming. She pulled a slim, gold-cased phone from her dress and handed it to him.
"Put your number in, handsome," she commanded. "Isabella is too much of a doctor; she'll forget to tell you when the real games start. I won't."
Ethan hesitated, but sensing no malice—only a wild, unpredictable energy—he typed in his number.
"See you in my dreams, Ethan," Sophia teased, blowing him a kiss as they stepped out into the cold night air.
The walk back to Ethan's neighborhood was quiet. Isabella seemed lost in thought, her professional mask firmly back in place. When they reached the corner near his apartment, she stopped.
"Don't let her get in your head, Ethan," Isabella warned. "She's a genius, but she's addicted to the edge. If you go through with this tomorrow, stay focused on the numbers. Not her."
"I will," Ethan promised. "Goodnight, Isabella."
"Goodnight, Ethan."
Ethan climbed the stairs to his apartment, his mind a chaotic whirl of images. Maya's sunny smile at the store, Isabella's sharp grey eyes, and Sophia's dangerous emerald dress. He entered his dark room, not even turning on the light.
He collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling. He had two weeks to find $780. He had a deck of cards in his mind and three powerful women pulling him in different directions.
[ System Notification ]
Affinity with Sophia V.: +1 (Curiosity)
Confidence: 4 (Stable)
Note: The board is set. The pieces are moving. Sleep well, Gardener. Tomorrow, you play for keeps.
As Ethan closed his eyes, the image of the golden-edged cards flickered in his vision. He wasn't just a gamer anymore. He was a player. And the game had only just begun.