14

FALLON I glare at him, and he motions to the seat across from him. “You understand the stakes, Fallon?” His voice slithers through the haze, as acrid and potent as the smoke curling from his lips as he draws back on his cigar. My eyes narrow, “You’ve been watching me all night,” I accuse, my voice a blade. He nods, leaning back in his chair. “Watching, admiring, studying… You’re quite the sight, Fallon. A beautiful mystery wrapped in feisty audacity.” His tone is mockingly reverent, but I can hear the steel underneath, the threat that coils in his words. The room is a vacuum, absorbing everything. Every breath and heartbeat is suspended in time. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice, Fallon?” Leone’s voice is a velvet caress, yet it stings like a whip against my consciousness. “A dealer by day, a card counting thief by night.” His words uncoil in the air, each syllable laced with the poison of betrayal. I can feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with knowledge and dark intent. I offer