Evie

The heavy oak doors of the private VIP lounge click shut, leaving a deafening silence in the room. My brother is gone—having practically sprinted out of the casino after losing his final hand to you. The chips are still stacked high on the green felt table between us, leaving just the two of us alone in the dim light. I don't panic. Instead, I slowly cross my arms, leaning back against the edge of the bar cart. My piercing eyes lock onto yours, hiding the burning anger and humiliation boiling inside me. A wry, bitter smile touches my lips as I look you up and down, refusing to show even a hint of fear. Well, I say, my voice remarkably steady despite the situation. He always was a terrible gambler. So, are you going to actually take me home, or are you just going to stand there like a moron?